Page 71 of Trusting You
And it’s true. I’m the only one Paige told. No one, not the birth certificate, not the hospital staff, not the hospice, knew who the father was.
Astor’s stare hits me again. “Would you? Have continued to keep Lily a secret from us if you could?”
“That’s an unfair question,” I say quietly, and I don’t think she heard.
“It’s clear how much you love Lily,” Astor continues. “Yes, the lawyer part of me is all sirens, thinking at any second you could take that baby and run. Yet, you’re still here. You’re living with my brother, helping him through a really tough time, when he’s not letting anyone else close enough to try. So, I wonder, what is it about you? What is it that Locke sees in you?”
I shake my head. “I can’t answer that.”
“You can’t answer a lot of things.”
“Am I under interrogation?” My hackles rise. “I’m trying to answer anything you ask, but you’re requesting some really tough shit that it would take the universe to figure out.”
Astor leans back.
“I’m one person,” I continue, “in a really complicated situation that I’m not so sure I’ll ever understand. But I’m here for Lily. Her. I’m not trying to steal her or get into Locke’s pants, or rob him of money or anything else you and Locke’s crew are thinking I’m gonna do. I want what’s best for that baby, and keeping her away from her father when she’s already lost her mother is not it.”
There’s a visceral pause between us, threads of atoms tightening in our blank space until the corners of Astor’s mouth tilt up.
“You’re too nice,” she says, bringing her drink to her lips. “I really wish you were a bitch so I could hate you without guilt.”
“I’m honest,” I grind out, then deflate and sip through my straw. “And I’m fucking tired.”
A bright peal leaves Astor’s lips. “Okay, the jig is up. I didn’t want to be here tossing verbal arrows at you, though I admit I’m enjoying it. I’m protective of Locke. Worried about him. And I need to do everything in my power to make sure you’re legit.”
“I don’t have anything to hide. Really,” I assure. “I only want to spend as much time with Lily as I can, before…before…” I can’t even finish. Clearly, I have my work cut out for me before I pack up and leave her here.
Astor says, after a time of deep study of me, “Strange, but I believe you. And I’ll relieve you and change the subject, but I want to give you a single warning. One thing Locke hates is secrets.” Her gaze goes distant before firing up and becoming alert again, so fast I barely caught it. “So, you better make sure you really are here for the right reasons.”
“I have no ulterior motive,” I say, but it didn’t come out as strong as intended. I’m thinking about Locke, bare-chested, lines of muscle and taut tendons, about his golden, naked skin hovering so close to mine I can feel the electrical imbalance in the air.
I may not have arrived with ulterior motives, but now all I can think of is how he is in bed. With me. And if I admit that to Astor, I’m sure she’ll sigh with disappointment.
Yet another girl who shows so much promise, falling for her unreliable brother.
I’m different from the rest, but not in a special snowflake way. I know that screwing around with him could deteriorate any remaining relationship with Lily, and I can never, ever let that happen—no matter how much my hormones want to betray me. No matter how much sexual restraint it takes to keep him at arm’s length.
Astor senses the change, and her expression tightens with suspicion, but she doesn’t push the subject. She doesn’t have to. I know she’ll be watching me.
What she doesn’t know is, I’ll be watching myself.
“Locke’s been through…a lot,” she says with a pensive swirl of her straw. “Not to say you haven’t, but that’s what makes it more concerning. The two of you have been through ridiculous shit that people our age shouldn’t have to deal with yet. And I’m worried that’s bringing you close to him, but not in a healthy way. In an isolating, lonely way.”
She risks a glance at me, and for a minute, I think I’m staring at Locke, that it’s him attempting to understand me, warn me, that we can never work even though we both want it badly.
“He…” Astor trails off, licks her lips. “Fuck, I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I’m seeing a lot of things I shouldn’t. Like how you and my brother are with each other. The way whatever room you’re in…shrinks…with something so all-consuming you guys don’t know there are other people around. No one except Lily, that is.”
Astor’s picturing the three of us as a tight-knit family, and I lick my own lips in response because that very realization has been drying up and crumbling my heart since the moment I noticed it, too.
“So, you need to know,” Astor continues, more determined. “When Locke was injured, he was bedridden for a long time. It gave him too many moments on his back, way too much boredom. He’s always been intense. Deeply addicted to his sport, committed to success. His drive was a force, and it bowled anyone else who didn’t believe in him out of the way.” She shakes her head as if attempting to get back to the point. I’m afraid to say anything to interrupt. “It nearly killed him, being told he couldn’t play anymore. Or even be benched. He was out, for good.”
“I saw the video,” I can’t help saying. “It was terrible.”
“Even worse to witness it firsthand,” Astor admits. “As soon as the doctor gave him the news, I knew I was at risk of losing my brother. Whatever remained in him without football…God, I didn’t even know. I hadn’t seen that part of him in so long. He’d become so arrogant, so into himself and his wins. But now, he has nothing. So…he turned to the worst.”
I lean in closer.
“He found he liked his pain killers, Carter. A lot. Coupled with alcohol, he discovered how he could escape his new life, and he liked being in that place. Didn’t care if it killed him.”