Page 37 of Blurry Little Lines
“I do recall her hair looking a lot more in place when she strutted into that fitness room and shut the door.”
“I work around her schedule. A quick blast of fitness is known to mess up hair.” I keep my face straight, but my father knows damn well when I’m lying. I did enough of it through my teenage years.
“You’re right. I saw nothing out of the ordinary.” He holds his hands up and backs away. “Give your mother a call. She is torn up about the way you left things.”
“The wayIleft things?” If I remember correctly, I was to blame as a child whenshedecided to storm off to Georgia, not out of brunch.
I finish up the day and head back to Kelsie’s for James’s party. After singing happy birthday, eating the coolest rocket ship cupcakes that were arranged to look like it was a single cake, James spent all his extra energy running around the rooftop as he played with his gifts. And Mallory spent all her energy chasing him around, asking for more recognition on the handmade card she created for him with intricate detail.
That evening, after Kelsie puts the kids to bed, I notice her bedroom light on and the door open. Our evenings are spent talking about our day or involve music. I pop my head through her doorway and see her room is empty. Peeking into James’s room, the two of them are cuddled up in his bed. My heart warms and I feel my smile stretch across my face. I pull the blanket up over Kelsie and head back to my room, setting the alarm to make sure she’s up in the morning.
Chapter 16
Kelsie
Ifinishofftheweek arriving home after my children’s bedtime. This week has mentally kicked my ass. I take a deep breath, which turns into a yawn, before entering my house. Laughter floats through the air, and I’m thankful to have people who love my children almost as much as I do. I hope the kids are tired enough to go to bed. Walking farther into the entryway, lasagna hits my nose. It’s no doubt Adam’s. I wish I had an appetite. I head to the kitchen and am greeted by my children held upside down. Adam and Max each have a child they’re swinging around.
“Careful, they’ll puke.” Lauren laughs. “Hey, Kelsie.” She smiles when she spots me.
“Hey, sis.” Adam sets Mallory down. “How was work?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” It’s been hell with this new project and going back to work full time when Max moves out might be a new type of hell. “I’ll push through it.”
“All right, kids, you remember our deal,” Max begins. “Your mom is now home, so you need to go brush your teeth and get into bed.” I watch them run down the hallway.
“How do you get them to listen on the first try?” I ask, feeling defeated.
“I explained things to Mallory as if she and I were in a business contract. If she breaches it, then I won’t make any deals with her again.” Max smiles like what he accomplished isn’t monumental. “Are you hungry?”
“A business deal? Why didn’t I think of that?” I sigh and instinctively slouch into his chest as his arms wrap around me.
“You’re doing an amazing job, Kelsie.” He kisses the top of my head and steps back to release me.
"I need to go tuck them in.” I pull my shoulders back and they crack. “Sorry, guys. I won’t be joining the Friday hangout tonight. Feel free to stay, though.”
“We can take off.” My brother winks at Lauren. “I’m sure we can find something to do to occupy our night.”
“Goodnight, guys.” Max nods and follows me down the hall to help with the kids.
Mallory informs me of the group of seven girls she invited for brunch and a rooftop swim for this Sunday as I leave her room. I’m too tired to argue how I should have been the first to know about this and instead, I respond with adon’t pull that move again. James is thirsty, then hungry, and then needs to pee twice before he finally stays in his bedroom. As I fall onto the couch, Max picks at his guitar quietly. I close my eyes for a minute to collect my thoughts before I begin to talk about my day. Max’s guitar is so soothing, and I get lost in him humming the song.
The next morning, I wake up in my room, wearing my large university tee. I have no recollection of changing out of my work clothes or heading to bed. Max is too good of a guy.
I refill my glass of champagne and add frozen strawberries into the flute. Mallory’s brunch and swim party weren’t too dreadful since the children came without their nosey parents. The house remains momentarily quiet as I pack the kids’ snacks for school and clean up the kitchen. Max walked in after the kids were in bed and headed for the shower. I considered downing this champagne and joining him for a bit of stress relief, but I remained strong. Sex with Max had been nothing short of mind blowing, but I feel things are getting too comfortable between us. Meaning, my heart is opening up in a way I want to keep closed.
Stress builds from work, Max, the rare texts Benson feels the need to send when he’s close to the hotel, or emails from my lawyer regarding the divorce. I bring the glass of alcohol to my bedroom and set it on the nightstand. Dimming the lights, I turn on my essential oil diffuser and lean against my bathroom door with a sigh. Showering seems too big of a task tonight. My heart rate picks up as I try to breathe through the anxiety building in my stomach and veins. I enjoy being in control of everything, but sometimes, I wish someone else would take the reins.
A clearing of a throat startles me.
“Are you all right?” Max stands against my bedroom door frame with his arms crossed and his schoolboy grin.
“A lot has gone on this week, but whatever. I’m used to stress.” I fight to keep my eyes on his, but of course, his bare chest needs attention. And dammit, I need to hide those gray sweats hanging loose on his hips.
“Do you trust me?” His hair is damp, and his body is still glistening from the shower he took.
“Besides the elevator, you’ve never given me a reason not to.” I answer to theVon his hips.
“Step one is to go take a hot shower and clear your head.” The demanding deepness in his voice alludes to another side of him, and I feel I have only scratched the surface with what it is.