Page 43 of Blurry Little Lines

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Page 43 of Blurry Little Lines

“Emmett.” I drop my voice an octave, but the denial tone cuts through.

“Look, bro, I may be five years younger than her, but I’ve grown up watching you two interact. There is definitely something special there. Even if you two are both too stubborn to admit it.”He’s not wrong.

“I need to get going, so I’m back in time to watch James while Kelsie takes Mallory to swim.”

“Look at you, all domestic now.” Emmett laughs. “That’ll be me in five to ten years. If the right girl comes along. I’m too busy to date, so she’ll work around my schedule.” He picks up the phone and gathers his gym bag. “I want a company helicopter and my folks said they won’t approve until I show I’m stable enough to hold a relationship. Fucking lame, bro.”

“Yeah? Sounds like you need to get your dreamy head out of your ass and figure out what you want.”

“I know what I want. First, I’ll cross a helicopter off my list. It’s hard to enjoy that with six kids.” He winks. “I just need a game plan to make it happen soon.” Most of the Wheaton money is in a family trust and large purchases need to be agreed upon and signed off for.

“You better start speed dating and looking for a woman.” I put the equipment away.

“I’m not wasting my time looking for one. She’ll have to conveniently pop into my life, so to speak.” He has a lot to learn. “If she really wants me, then she can prove she is able to put up with my ways for some time. If so, I’ll deem her worthy to show more interest.”

“Goodbye, Emmett.” I end the call, shaking my head, and I walk the few blocks back to Kelsie’s.

Kelsie is rushing around the kitchen, still in her work dress and the same pair of heels that were previously around my neck the other day at the gym. I wonder what little lace number she’s wearing today. I clear my throat, pushing thoughts aside, and remember what time it is. She should be in her casual shorts and a comfy V-neck t-shirt that shows off her perky tits. She looks up from the counter, relieved I’m here.

“Did you just get home?” I ask, looking down the hall.

“Yeah, a few minutes ago.” Kelsie’s head whips back and forth to the fridge and the counter, flustered. “Mallory, come on! We are going to be late.”

“One second.” I pick her up under her arms and lift her onto the counter to command her full attention. “Take a breath. It’s swim practice, not the Olympics.” I hold her eye contact as my hands slide down her calves to remove her heels. “Go change and have a relaxing evening with James. I’ll take Mallory to practice.” I prepare myself for an argument, but her eyes soften.

“Thank you.” Her voice is hushed and her eyes dip to my lips.

“I’m ready.” Mallory walks into the kitchen. “Hey! You get mad at us when we sit on the counter.”

“When you buy your own counter, you can sit on it as much as you’d like.” Kelsie clears her throat, and I back away. “Mallory, you still didn’t eat.”

“Grab an apple and the cracker box.” I nod at the cupboard as Kelsie glares. “No, it’s not a complete meal, Kels, but she’ll live. I promise.” I roll my eyes and head out the door with Mallory.

We arrived at her swim team practice just in time. I spent the next hour and a half listening to the group of mothers gossiping. Who cares what so-and-so said. They attempt to make small talk with me, but their flirty eyes give me an uneasy feeling. You’re here with your child and wearing wedding bands. Lay the fuck off.

“You were at the last competition. I remember that face.” The woman smiles. “Are you related to Mallory?”

“I’m just a family friend.” Kelsie has managed to blend in and keep a low profile so Mallory can enjoy and interact with children outside of the elite world and private school, without being treated differently. Though the Wheaton name is well known, Mallory’s last name lacks the prestigious title. Which still bugs the hell out of me because Benson is a piece of shit. Sure, the odd article about the Wheatons will pop up somewhere in a tabloid magazine, but it doesn’t seem like too many people read those anymore.

Practice is over, and Mallory and the teammates run to the snack counter while the moms hang back and continue their conversations.

“Make sure you ask the other kids if they want anything.” I hand her a fifty as her eyes light up.

“Thank you, Max. You’re the best!” She gives me a hug and runs the five feet back to the counter.

“He’s cute. Is that your dad?” one of the girls asks as they huddle in line.

“No, that’s Max. He’s the best dad I’ll never have.” Pain and pride hit my chest at the same time. “He’s my mom’s best friend.”

“Isn’t your mom single now?” another asks as Mallory nods, forcing a fake smile. “Maybe your mom will think he’s cute enough to date.”

“They wouldneverbecause they both know they have the love curse.” I feel my face contort, even though I want to remain as if I’m not eavesdropping.

“The what?” the oldest looking girl asks.

“Well, this girl at my school said some people aren’t meant to be loved.” Mallory shrugs. “Like my dad doesn’t love me, my brother, or my mom. Some people are cursed to not be loved or have a relationship. You can’t be dumb enough to try again if it left you.”The fuck, Mallory?“My parents couldn’t love each other enough. James and I took too much from their love tanks.”

“Patrick broke up with me. Am I cursed?”




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