37. NINETEEN #2
If I’d wanted to have meaningless sex, then I could have gotten away with it, so why haven’t I wanted to?
I have a terrible feeling I already know the answer.
“Everything looks great, man,” Roman says as I set the last serving dish onto the dining table and take the seat beside Eden.
“I still can’t believe you cooked.” Aspen reaches for the dish closest to her and piles a heap of mashed potato onto her plate. “Is it safe to eat?”
Brynn laughs, serving tiny helpings onto two plates for the girls. She sets one in front of Ivy, who’s sitting between us, then slides one across the table to Salem, who’s sitting in a highchair next to Leo. “Alex used to cook for me all the time when we were growing up.”
Aspen sags back in her seat with a look of genuine surprise. “That’s…unexpected.”
I reach for Eden’s plate to serve for her, but she bats my hand out the way with a glare.
“I can do it myself.”
“I know.” But she’s been sitting there, waiting for everyone else to make their plates without making a move to sort her own. “I just want you to eat while the food is still hot.”
“I was being polite.”
“Don’t be.” I nudge her plate. “Eat.”
Tentatively, she reaches for the dish closest to her and spoons some greens onto her plate. “So bossy.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet.” I wink, and her face flushes pink. “Take a steak.”
God, she’s so fucking pretty. Her eyes, big and brown, with those long dark lashes that flutter against her cheeks every time she blinks. The delicate slope of her nose. Her heart-shaped lips that taste like cherries.
I need a new excuse to kiss her again.
It’s been a few days since I was last able to find a reason to do it, and I’m experiencing withdrawal. But if I were to kiss her now, everyone would lose their shit. Not only because all the adults at the table know our relationship isn’t real, but there are kids present. You gotta be respectful.
Aaaaaand, I’m staring.
Again.
Reluctantly, I drag my gaze away from her and immediately find Roman staring pointedly at me. My stomach tumbles with guilt, as if he’s caught me doing something I shouldn’t. Which is weird. I was only looking at Eden and thinking how pretty she is.
I think a lot of women are pretty. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s not like I’m acting on my attraction or leading her on. There’s nothing untoward going on here, so there is absolutely no need for Roman to be judging me.
He leans back, swinging his arm around the back of Leo’s chair. “Eden, how has it been living with Alex?”
She pauses, her fork midway to her mouth. “Bit of an adjustment, but it’s been good. It’s nice to sleep in a proper bed for once.”
“He plays video games with me!” Macon exclaims, his mouth stuffed with potato. I notice that he hasn’t served himself a single vegetable. “And last night, he made us burgers and fries in that cool oven with the baskets.”
He means my deep fryer.
“How domestic.” Roman’s smirk grows tenfold. “Have there been any grownup sleepovers?”
Eden’s eyes narrow as she processes the implication. “We’re just friends.”
My oldest niece drops her fork on her plate with a clang and slaps her hands on the table. “Are you friends that kiss?”
“No!” Macon is visibly horrified by the suggestion. “They don’t kiss. That would be gross.”
Leo leans into his daughter. “Honey, you have got to stop asking people that question.”
Ivy scowls. “Why can’t I ask that question, Dad?”
“I think it was a fair question,” Roman pipes in around a mouthful of masticated steak, pointing his fork at Ivy in endorsement. “I’d quite like to know the answer myself.”
Aspen claps her hands together and unhelpfully chimes in, “Me too.”
Brynn shakes her head, shooting daggers at Roman for encouraging her daughter. “It’s personal. People might find it invasive.”
“Do you find it invasive, Uncle Alex?” she asks me directly, her eyes sparkling with innocence. It’s a lie. She isn’t innocent at all. Seven, though she may be, she has the wits and cunning of a military tactician.
Eden shifts in discomfort. Her eyes flick repeatedly to Macon, her lip lost between her teeth. I know how important it is to her that Macon doesn’t become entangled in the lies of our fake relationship, so I need to nip this in the bud now.
I give my niece a soft smile. “No, Ivy. We’re not friends that kiss.”
She sags back in her chair with palpable disappointment.
Me too, kid.
“Anyway…” Eden says in a bid to redirect the conversation. “Macon’s been given a new project at school. Why don’t you tell everyone, buddy? Maybe they can help you with ideas.”
“Oh, okay.” He puts down his fork. “We’re doing a fundraising competition for a charity in the city, and whoever raises the most money gets to be principal for the day. My best friend, Harlow, wants to do a bake sale, but I think that’s kind of boring.”
“Alex could cut his hair and auction it for you on eBay,” Roman pipes in. “You’d get a lot of money for it, and I wouldn’t be forced to look at that hideous man bun ever again. Two birds with one stone and all that.”
“Don’t be petty just because you’re balding,” I fire back at him.
Self-consciously, he rubs a hand over his buzz cut. “I’m not balding.”
“Then why do you cut your hair so short?”
“Helps me run faster.”
“Bullsh—” I remember the children. “Sugar.”
Brynn smiles warmly at Macon, blatantly ignoring us. “That’s cool. Do you know what charity you’re fundraising for? Maybe you could use that to inspire some ideas.”
Macon nods. “The Poppy Fields Children’s Home.”
Brynn freezes. I go rigid. And Leo’s eyes bounce from me to his wife and back again like he’s watching a tennis match.
They’re the only two people at the table who know I grew up there. Brynn, of course, because she was there with me, and Leo because he married her. Ivy might know too, since she’s aware Brynn spent time there, but we’ve never talked about it between us.
Roman, though, despite being one of my best friends, has no idea.
It’s not that I don’t trust him. I just don’t want to talk about it or have him look at me differently if I do. I don’t want soft looks and awkward man hugs or, God forbid, pity.
That time of my life doesn’t matter now. It’s not important anymore, regardless of what Dr. Sharma thinks.
“That’s where I used to live!” Ivy yells excitedly. “That’s so cool!”
“Really?” Macon’s eyes light up. “What do you think I should do? I really want to win.”
Their enthusiasm breaks the tension, and I let my body deflate.
Ivy taps her finger on her chin, humming as she thinks. “I like the idea of cutting Uncle Alex’s hair,” she says. “We could do it with one of Daddy’s beard shavers.”
“You mean my razor?” Leo asks with amusement. “I’m not sure it would be big enough to cut through that mop on his head. We’d need a hedge trimmer.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“I like his hair.” Eden sets her cutlery down on her empty plate. “It suits him.”
The room falls into surprised silence, but I’m too buzzed by her admission to let it settle.
“I could kiss you right now.”
I mean, I could. I totally could.
My gaze falls to her lips. Hers falls to mine. If I leaned in just a few inches, I could steal a kiss from her right here. I could make it so quick that no one would even notice, and then maybe my mouth could finally stop tingling like it’s been edged all night.
Roman scoffs. “That’s because you get to pull it.”
I flip my middle finger at him as discreetly as possible—little eyes and all that. Not because of his shitty comment—God knows how much I’d love that woman to pull my hair—but because he ruined the moment. And it was such a good moment too.
Macon gapes at his mother. “Mom! You shouldn’t pull Alex’s hair. That’s so mean!”
“Thanks for that, Ro.” Eden shoots him daggers. “It’s okay, buddy. I don’t actually pull his hair. Roman’s just joking.”
“Oh.” Macon looks relieved at that and goes back to shoveling mashed potatoes into his mouth.
I take the momentary lapse in conversation as an opportunity to lean into Eden’s side. “Are you having fun?”
She glances around the table, at Ivy who’s singing to herself as she eats, and Salem who’s made such a mess of her face that it’s going to take an hour in the bath to wash the food out of her hair.
Then to Brynn and her sister, who are talking between themselves about something or other, and finally, my two best friends.
Her smile is soft when she finally meets my eye again. “It’s chaos, but it’s kind of brilliant.”
That’s exactly what it is.
I love having my family over. I always have. Being around my favorite people is the only time I’ve ever felt truly content. Regardless of how loud it gets or how many times they make fun of my hair, there’s peace to be found in the chaos.
And I didn’t know how having Eden, Aspen, and Macon here would affect the dynamic, if it would be awkward having everyone together, or whether they’d feel included enough.
It’s obvious to me now that I never should have worried.
Aspen, despite how much of a menace she is, is sort of like having another little sister. Macon is just the coolest dude I’ve ever met, and Eden…well, I’m not really sure what Eden is.
She’s not my girlfriend, but it would be weird to call her a friend.
I can’t call her my lover, since we’ve never slept together, and there isn’t—and never will be—love involved between the two of us.
She’s not quite a business partner, more like a partner in crime.
An accomplice. A co-conspirator. A woman who I can’t stop thinking about.
But whatever she is, here in my home with my friends and family, I can’t deny that she just…fits.