Reed tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Dad won’t let that happen, baby.”
“Your dad doesn’t have a say in it.” My throat tightens to the point of pain. “Steve is the one who gets to decide, and he wants me to live with him.”
Easton makes a growly sound. “It doesn’t matter what Steve wants. You belong with us.”
He’s right. I do. Unfortunately, Steve doesn’t agree. At lunch, he even asked me to consider legally changing my last name from Harper to O’Halloran. If I was going to change it to anything, it would be Royal, but I didn’t say that to him. I simply nodded and smiled and let him babble and babble for hours. I honestly think he just likes hearing the sound of his own voice.
“Stop stressing,” Reed advises, running one hand over my lower back.
“I can’t. I don’t want to live with him and that bitch. I won’t.”
“It won’t even come down to that,” he promises. “The thing about Steve—he’s all talk and no action.”
Easton nods fervently. “It’s true. You totally nailed it when you called him a man-child. Uncle Steve is a big kid.”
“Easton’s right. Steve has all these big ideas but he never follows through on any of them,” Reed admits. “He gets distracted.”
“Yeah, by his dick,” Easton says, and I cringe at that. “He could be in the middle of a board meeting and you put a hot chick in front of him and he’s outta there.”
Yeah. My father sounds awesome. Not. “Please don’t talk about my dad’s penis in front of me. That’s disgusting.”
“He’s just caught up in this whole I’m-a-father thing,” Easton says with another shrug. “Once that wears off, he’ll probably forget you exist.”
I know he’s trying to reassure me, but he only succeeds in bumming me out even more. Every new thing I learn about Steve brings a new knot of anxiety to my stomach.
And now I’m scared again, but not at the idea that Steve might not like me.
I’m afraid I won’t like him.
14
Ella
Since Val doesn’t have a car, and I don’t have a job anymore, there’s nothing stopping me from driving her home after school on Friday. I was hoping we would catch up during the drive, but she’s surprisingly quiet, so at the next red light I glance over and come right out with it.
“You’re mad at me, aren’t you?”
Her gaze flies to mine. “What? No! Of course not.”
“Are you sure?” I say anxiously. “Because I’ve been a really crappy friend this week. I know I have.”
“No, you’ve been a busy friend.” She smiles sadly. “I totally get it, Ella. I’d be distracted too if my boyfriend was being accused of murder.”
“I really am sorry I haven’t been around. Life…sucks.”
“Tell me about it.”
We trade grim smiles.
“What’s going on with you and Wade?” I ask as I drive through the intersection.
“Nothing.” Her tone is vague.
“Nothing? Seriously?” They’ve both been super cranky every day this week, barely even looking at each other at lunch. That’s not nothing.
I turn onto Val’s street and slow down in front of the Carrington mansion. Before she can escape, I click the locks so she can’t open her door.
Val snickers. “You realize this is a convertible, right? I can just climb out.”
“Well, you’re not going to.” I give her a stern look. “Not until you tell me what’s up.”
“Nothing’s up.” She sounds exasperated. “Wade is…Wade. We’re not together.”
“But do you want to be?” I press.
She heaves a huge, exaggerated sigh. “No, I don’t.”
I narrow my eyes. “Really?”
“Yes… No… Maybe. I don’t know, okay?”
I sigh, too. “Are you pissed at him because he hooked up with someone else?”
“Yes!” she bursts out. “Which is so stupid. It’s not like we were even going out in the first place. We just fooled around a couple of times in the bathroom. But…I was having fun again, you know? I wasn’t obsessing over Tam anymore.”
Sympathy tugs at me. Val took her breakup with Tam, her old boyfriend, pretty hard. I was so happy to see her finally getting over it.
“And then Wade asks me to hang out one weekend,” Val goes on, “and I was busy, so he was like, okay, rain check. So I get to school on Monday and find out he made out with Samantha Kent on Sunday at the golf club! That is so not cool.” Her expression clouds over. “It reminded me of Tam screwing around on me and…” She trails off.
I reach out and gently squeeze her arm. “I get it. You got burned and you’re not looking to get burned again. You were too good for Tam. And you’re too good for Wade.” I hesitate. “But for what it’s worth, Wade seems to feel really bad about everything.”
“I don’t care. I told him before we hooked up that I wanted it to be exclusive. If he’s with me—even if it’s just casual—then he’s just with me.” She stubbornly sticks out her chin. “He broke the rules.”
“So I take it you’re not coming to the game tonight?”
“Nope. I’m staying home and waxing my legs.”
I laugh.
“Want to come over?” she asks. “We can make it a spa night.”
“I can’t,” I say glumly. “Unlike you, I don’t have a choice about going to the game. Callum told us last night that the whole family is going—no exceptions. It’s a show of force.”
Val’s lips twitch. “I didn’t realize we were at war.”
“We might as well be.” I shove a strand of hair out of my eyes. “You’ve heard all the whispers at school. People are saying the most terrible stuff about Reed, and apparently some of the Atlantic Aviation board members are giving Callum grief about it, too.”
“Are there reporters camped out in front of the mansion?”
“Shockingly, no. Callum must have thrown his weight around or something, because any other case like this would cause a huge media storm.” I slump down into the seat. “Reed’s lawyer wants us to act like Reed did nothing wrong. We’re supposed to stand together as a family and all that.” Only I’m not supposed to stand too close. Reed didn’t tell me that, but Callum took me aside the other day and suggested that we cool it on any PDA.
She rolls her eyes. “And going to a football game will convince people that Reed is innocent?”
“Who knows.” I shrug. “Plus, Callum thinks it’s a good time for Steve to ‘come out’ to the other families. He’s hoping maybe it will cause enough of a stir and take the heat off Reed.”
Val’s dark eyes probe my face. “How’s that going, anyway? You and Steve.”
A groan slips out. “Not great. He keeps trying to spend time with me.”
She mock gasps. “How dare he!”
I can’t stop a giggle. “Okay, I know that sounds crazy. But it’s weird, okay? He’s a total stranger.”
“Yeah, and he’s gonna stay that way as long as you keep avoiding him.” She wrinkles her nose. “Don’t you want to get to know him? I mean, he’s your dad.”
“I know.” I chew on my bottom lip. “I tried to be open-minded when he showed up at school on Monday and insisted we spend the day together, but all he did was talk about himself. For hours. It was like he didn’t even notice I was there.”
“He was probably nervous,” she suggests. “I bet this is hard for him, too. He comes back from the dead and finds out he has a kid? Anyone would have a hard time with that.”
“I guess.” I unlock the doors. “Anyway, you may leave now, milady. I need to head home and get ready for the game,” I say in a tired voice.
Val snickers. “Careful, girl. Your enthusiasm is so contagious I might do cartwheels all the way to my front door.” She pulls on the door handle and hops out of the car, then taps the doorframe and grins at me. “Good luck tonight.”
“Thanks,” I answer.
I have a feeling I’m
going to need it.
* * *
There is an ocean of space around us. An ocean.
All week, I’ve seen kids at school whispering about Reed, but I didn’t think those whispers would extend to Callum. Callum Royal has always seemed untouchable to me—confident and in control, a captain of industry who everyone sucks up to. The last time he came to a game, there was a ton of sucking up. Every other second, a parent stopped him to chat about something.
Tonight, Callum is getting the silent treatment. We all are—me, Steve, and the twins. We’re sitting in the stands in the row right above the home team bench, and everyone around us is sneaking peeks in our direction. I can feel their accusatory gazes boring into the back of my head.
And as uncomfortable as it is for me, it’s a million times worse for Reed. He can’t play tonight because he still has stitches in his side from the stabbing orchestrated by Daniel Delacorte. He’s benched for another week, but he’s still expected to stand on the sidelines.
I wish he could sit up in the stands with us. I hate how alone he looks right now. And I hate that people keep whispering and pointing at him.
“That’s the Royal boy,” some woman hisses loud enough for all of us to hear. “I can’t believe they let him come here tonight.”
“It’s shameful,” another parent agrees. “I don’t want him around my Bradley!”
“Someone needs to talk to Beringer about this,” a male voice ominously chimes in.
I wince. So does Callum. Beside me, Steve seems totally unconcerned by all the negative attention. As usual, he’s talking my ear off, this time about some European trip he’s planning for us. I don’t know if us means me and him, or if that includes Dinah, too. Either way, I’m not interested in going on a trip with him, even if he is my father. He still makes me so nervous.
The funny thing is, I can totally see why my mom was drawn to him. In the week he’s been back, he’s been filling out. His face is no longer gaunt, and his clothes are actually starting to fit his lean, muscular frame. Steve O’Halloran is decent looking—for a dad—and his blue eyes always hold this boyish twinkle. Mom had a thing for the playful types, and Steve definitely fits that bill.
But as his daughter, and not someone who’s romantically interested in him, I think the boyish act is kind of annoying. He’s a grown-up. Why doesn’t he act like one?
“You’re sulking,” Sawyer murmurs in my ear.
I snap out of my thoughts and turn to the younger Royal. “No, I’m not,” I lie, before looking past his shoulder. “Where’s Lauren?” Technically, Lauren is Sawyer’s girlfriend, so she’s usually his date for these types of things.
“Grounded,” he answers with a sigh.
“Aw. Why?”
“She got caught sneaking out to meet me and—” He stops when he notices Steve listening in. “Me,” he finishes. “Just me.”
I hide a grin. I don’t get Lauren Donovan at all, but I think it’s kind of ballsy that she’s so open to dating two boys. I can barely handle one.
Speaking of my one, Reed looks miserable on the sidelines. His gaze is glued to the touchdown zone. Or the end zone? I can’t remember what it’s called. No matter how many times Reed and Easton try to teach me how the game works, I still don’t like or care about football.
I can tell Reed is upset that he’s not out there with his teammates. The defense is on the field—I know this only because one of the blue-and-gold jerseys down there reads “ROYAL.” Easton is lined up in front of an opponent. I see his mouth moving behind his facemask, which tells me he’s making some smartass comment.
Yup, he totally is. When the play starts, the opposing player lunges at Easton like he wants to murder him. But East is dangerous out there—he sweeps by his opponent, who falls to his knees, while two other Astor Park players tackle Marin High’s quarterback before he can throw the ball.
“That was a sack,” Sebastian says helpfully, leaning over his brother to explain the play to me.
“I don’t care,” I reply.
On my other side, Steve chuckles. “Not a fan of football, I gather?”
“Nope.”
“We’ve been working on her,” Callum says from the end of the row. “But no luck yet.”
“It’s all right, Ella,” Steve tells me. “The O’Hallorans are a basketball family, anyway.”
Just like that, I tense up again. Why does he keep saying stuff like that? I’m not an O’Halloran! And I hate basketball more than I hate football.
I muster up a smile and say, “Harpers are anti-sports. All sports.”
Steve’s mouth curves in a tiny smirk. “I don’t know about that… If I recall correctly, your mother was very…ah…sporty.”
My mouth slams shut. Was that some sort of disgusting innuendo? I’m not sure, but I think it was, and I really don’t like it. He’s not allowed to talk about my mom that way. He didn’t even know her. Not outside of the biblical sense, anyway.
On the field, the Astor Park offense is lining up. Wade is our quarterback, and he’s shouting unintelligible words to his teammates. I think I hear him yell “STUDMUFFIN!” at one point, which prompts me to poke Sawyer in the side.
“Did he just say ‘studmuffin’?”
Sawyer snickers. “Yeah. Peyton Manning has ‘Omaha’—Wade has ‘Studmuffin.’”
He might as well be speaking gibberish. I don’t know what a Peyton Manning is, and I don’t bother to ask. Instead, I watch as Wade throws a perfect spiral on the first play, which lands right in the capable hands of some Astor kid running fast down the sidelines.
My phone buzzes in my purse. I pull it out and find a text from Val.
Ugh! He’s not allowed to play this good!
Instantly, my head swivels to search the crowd, but my best friend is nowhere to be seen.
Where r u?? I text back.
Concessions. No food at home so I drove here to buy a hot dog.
I snort out loud. The twins glance over, but I wave off their curious stares and send another message to Val.
U r SO busted. U came 2 C Wade!
NO. I was hungry.
For Wade.
I hate u.
Just admit u like him.
Never.
Fine. Then at least come up and sit w/ us. I miss ur face.
A loud cheer rocks the stands. I look down to catch the tail end of the play—another perfect pass from Wade. I’m not surprised when Val texts back immediately.
Nah. Going home. Stupid idea 2 come here 2nite.
Sympathy floods my system. Poor Val. I know this thing with Wade started off as a rebound for her, or maybe as a way to pass the time before she was ready to seriously date again after her breakup, but I’m positive she’s developed real feelings for the guy. And I think Wade likes her, too. They’re just too stubborn to admit it.
Like you and Reed? an inner voice taunts.
Okay, fine. Reed and I were the same way in the beginning. He was such a jerk to me, and I spent weeks fighting my feelings for him. But we’re together now and it’s awesome, and I want Val to experience that same awesomeness.
“Who are you texting?”
I instinctively slap my hand over the screen when I realize that Steve is peering at my phone. Why the hell is he trying to read my texts?
“A friend,” I answer tersely.
His narrowed gaze focuses on the home bench, as if he’s expecting to see Reed typing into his cell phone. But Reed has his hands on his knees and is intensely watching the game.
I don’t like the suspicion in Steve’s eyes. He already knows I’m with Reed. And even if he doesn’t like it, he has absolutely no say in who I date.
“Well, why don’t you put the phone away?” he suggests, and there’s a bite to his tone. “You’re out with your family. Whoever you’re talking to can wait.”
I shove the phone back in my purse. Not because he ordered me to, but because I might’ve hurled it in his face otherwise. Callum never cared if I texted my
friends during a football game. If anything, he was happy that I had friends in the first place.
Beside me, Steve nods in approval and refocuses his attention on the game.
I try to do the same, but I’m all riled up again. I want to catch Reed’s eye and mouth to him how much I dislike Steve, but I know Reed will just tell me to ignore him, that Steve will get “bored” of this father stuff eventually.
Except I’m starting to think that’s not going to happen.
15
Reed
After the game, Dad and Steve insist on taking us out for a late dinner at some French place in the city. I don’t want to go, but I’m not exactly given a choice. Dad wants us to be seen in public. He says we can’t hide, that we need to act like nothing’s wrong.
But everything is wrong. All those stares at the game tonight… Shit, my back and my ears are still burning from all the condemning eyes and scornful whispers that pierced me.
At dinner, I sit in stony silence and wish I were at home, preferably with my lips on Ella’s and my hands all over her body.
Beside me, East stuffs his face like he hasn’t eaten in weeks, but I guess he’s earned the right to pig out. Astor Park kicked Marin High’s ass tonight. We finished the fourth quarter four TDs ahead, and everyone was in high spirits afterward.
Well, except for me. And maybe Wade, who—for the first time since I’ve known him—didn’t announce that he would be celebrating the win with a BJ followed by lots and lots of sex. He was in a crappy mood as he stripped out of his gear and stomped out of the locker room. I think he said he was going home, which, again, isn’t very Wade-like.
On my other side, Ella is also stone-faced. I think Steve said something to rub her the wrong way at the game, but I’m not going to ask her about it until we’re alone. Steve’s been on some weird power trip ever since he came back from the dead. He keeps talking about how he has a daughter now, so he has to set a better example. Dad, of course, nods in approval every time Steve says shit like that. In Callum Royal’s eyes, Steve O’Halloran can do no wrong. It’s been that way for as long as I can remember.