Charlotte

I hadn’t thought before I told Lowell to stay, but I don’t regret it. Not in the slightest. Simply feeling his warmth next to me as I fall asleep, for the first time in my life—which sounds insane because I’m not that young—I’m not sleeping alone. Of course, Kimberly running in my room when she is scared at night or doesn’t want to go to bed doesn’t count. I usually like to think I am all about my space and wouldn’t want to share my bed especially, but the way Lowell hugs me and wraps his arms around my middle even in his sleep is a feeling worth sharing anything. I’ve grown used to him driving my body mad and then leaving for the past month, so it’s quite the adjustment even now, not being alone, or at least not replaying things while I’m alone. It becomes especially worth it when we both wake up in the middle of the night, or one wakes the other, I don’t know—and he has me deliciously slow again until we fall asleep in a tangled mess.

It seemed like minutes ago that happened when the warmth of his body wakes me up. Behind me, his chest presses to my back along with the rest of him, and I had no idea he was such a human space heater. My body is clammy as I pull away from him, turning to see his face relaxed in sleep, his snores a little more than silent but not unbearable. His full lips are slightly apart, the lines of his angled jaw pointed yet relaxed as he sleeps. The deep ridge of his brows is still drawn together, lightly colored over his thick lashes and his button nose. I wonder how his face is so perfect, and he doesn’t have to try at all.

I can tell it’s early because Kimberly hasn’t woken up to watch cartoons in the media room, and the sun is very high coming in from my panoramic window. I get up to close the curtains a bit, careful not to wake Lowell, and then head to the bathroom. I shower and brush my teeth, even wash my hair because I feel like it. Sunday is usually the only day I have an extra ten minutes to do it. I get out, wrapping my head in a plush white towel and then myself in the same. I move to my dressing room to lotion down, which is the ‘his’ side of the master bedroom closet I closed off and converted with built-in drawers and a vanity to complete the whole ‘dressing room’ thing I was going for. I see it, and for a moment I stop and think I was so set on being alone when I bought this house, not rented. I had planned it would only be Kimberly and me.

Now I don’t know if that’s changed. I know I think I want it to, and it’s scarier than anything.

After I lotion down and throw on a plain brown knee-length dress, I let my hair air dry and add my product to it before I return to the bedroom. I already heard noises in the bathroom, but there is a separation in the walls, so I ended up coming out of the other side. An immediate smile finds my face, though, when I see Lowell seated up in bed completely naked, abs and semi-erect cock on display.

“Good morning,” he drawls, his voice deep for so early in the morning. I patter over to him sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Morning.” His eyes are so bright when I smile at him and so is his smile.

“You have toothbrushes to last you a century.”

I giggle, almost out of embarrassment. Catherine often says I am a hoarder, and I haven’t felt the same way since. I like to be prepared but apparently that’s weird.

“It was a bargain sale.” My eyes travel down his wide muscular chest, his pecs aren’t too raised, but down the center and sides, he is ribbed. His body is cut like every muscle makes it a point to be seen. Among other things.

“You need to put that away. I have to start breakfast.”

He arches his brow, and I swear he makes his cock twitch too. “This early? Relax, it’s Sunday.” He smiles, probably partially due to not having any practice or interviews today.

“Yes, we do a lot on Sundays.”

“That defeats the purpose.”

He reaches for me, and I know if we make contact, I will be done for. I deftly move away to stand up, leaning down to kiss him instead.

“Get up and help.” I pat his hard slab of muscles on his stomach and pull back, tasting him on my lips and swirling around in my head. The effect he has on me doesn’t make much sense, even now.

“Fine… what do you plan on telling Kimberly? Another story?” He stands and towers over me, but I still feel like I can hold my ground.

“No. If she asks…”

“Tell her I’m your boyfriend,” he interrupts, and for a moment my mouth is slack as I process what he said.

“I… I don’t want her knowing what it is.”

He chuckles. “Kids know what married couples are, what’s the difference?” He steps closer to me, and his natural scent permeates me, the blaze of his blue eyes even closer.

“I don’t know.” I sigh.

“Maybe you’re not ready to be my girlfriend?” His voice breaks in a slight way, but his expression holds still.

“It’s not that, Lowell. I don’t want to move too fast.”

“Too fast?”

“Let’s talk about this later, okay? Preferably after coffee.” I’m walking away from him before he says anything, but he catches up to me quickly, in between me and the door in seconds.

“Char, we have to talk about this. Don’t keep putting it off and making me run after you naked. I want to be with you. I want us to be a family. Don’t you want the same, too? That’s all I want to know, right now.” His palms line down my shoulders, over the skin of my arms leaving tingles after his touch.

I stare into his eyes, and everything else seems to disappear. The intensity in his gaze starts to be the only thing I can focus on and how I feel about him.

“I do want that, Lowell. I just…” His finger presses over my lips before I can respond.

“That’s all that matters, Char.”

He kisses me then but doesn’t lean down to do it. His arm wraps around me and draws me up to him, my toes barely touching the ground when my lips collide with his. There is so much fervor in the kiss, so much passion I become dizzy with the swirl of his tongue and pressure of his lips on mine. My arms link around his neck holding on for dear life as I dissolve into the kiss with him. When we finally part, we’re both breathless. His chest heaves as he sets me down and looks at me at the same time. His lips are swollen from our kiss and curl up at the end with a smile.

“Now, what are we having for breakfast?”

I let Lowell wake Kimberly and get her washed up because he insists, and I know he’s never done it before. But it makes me happy that he’s so excited about it. I know it’s early on, but I don’t think it will wear off. Lowell isn’t easily passionate about things, I know that much.

Ever since college, football was his star and moon. When I was with him, I still felt that, and maybe I could be half of that one star in his life, but we separated too quickly. Now, I don’t know. I have to be guarded. He lives a relatively public life, and I never wanted that for Kimberly. Even when my salon took off, and LA celebrities came with their Vlog channels, reality shows, and such, I had to turn a lot of stuff away because I didn’t want that publicity for myself or Kimberly. At the game yesterday, it kept running through my head—who would see us with Lowell, and then after when he said people had recognized him—having little mini panic attacks giving me a headache, and I’m worried. But to have a real family, all of us together, would be worth it. I need to get myself together.

I beat the eggs a little too hard, and they got frothy and came out fluffy as I imagined. My lazy breakfast is bacon and eggs, so that’s what I made, but Kimberly likes to add bread so I toast some and lay out butter and jelly. Footsteps pound down the staircase overhead, and they appear around the corner a few moments later.

“Hello, Mommy!” Kimberly runs toward me in her orange sweatpants and matching sweater. I can tell Lowell tried something with her hair and then gave up because it’s half in a ponytail.

“Hi, chickie, what took so long?” I lift her up, with some difficulty, to kiss her cheek and then set her back down just as fast.

“Daddy told jokes. And he couldn’t do my hair.”

I laugh since I expected as much.

“Did he?” I grin at him, pouring himself coffee from the pot. He’s wearing jeans from yesterday and the white t-shirt he had on under his Henley. He looks like a parental dream and Mom’s fantasy when he sits at the breakfast nook with Kimberly and sets her on his lap.

“What will we do today, Mommy?”

We sit together eating. I’m usually not too hungry in the mornings, so I sip at my coffee and nibble on bacon. Meanwhile, Kimberly and Lowell are on their second serving.

“Whatever you want.” Though a lazy day at home sounds like a good idea, Kimberly is very active, and I’ve grown used to it. I don’t want to hinder her in that department either.

“I think I want to go to the park. Please.” She grins, jelly around her mouth and eyes twinkling.

I giggle once. “Sure.”

“And you’ll come, too?” She nudges her dad, sitting next to him, and looks incredibly tiny because of it.

“Sure, Keeks. Whatever you want.” He winks at her, and she smiles wider. It’d be a lie if I said I have never seen her smile like that unless she is smiling at him.

Lowell decides to meet us at the park so he can change, taking an Uber back to his house from mine. Kimberly and I burn time cleaning the kitchen. She actually helps, and then we get ready. We’re almost matching. It’s one of the fun things I do sometimes—it’s the fun part of having a daughter first. My jeans are whitewashed and fashion ripped, my sweater orange and open at the back with a criss-cross shape. Her jeans look mostly the same besides the rips, and her orange sweater is cute and frilly at the bottom.

I take a picture of her and send it to Catherine, who gets fake pissy saying I don’t invite her to do stuff with us since Lowell showed up. She soon says she was joking, but I still think about it.

Before, our weekends would be the three of us doing something together, and we haven’t done so in the past month. But when we figure things out, I’m sure we’ll all spend more time together. My parents are a different story. I am not excited about that at all. They hated how I got pregnant not only out of wedlock but without a boyfriend in sight, but they love Kimberly now.

“I brought snacks.” Kimberly runs into the garage with one of her little fashion bags in tow, this one a bright orange backpack half as big as her.

“Okay.” I laugh, hoping she doesn’t sit and eat the whole time, which she does do.

The drive is quick as this particular park is between the two communities. A little posh for my liking—all the kids smell of hand sanitizer and their mom’s Chanel, if it’s their mom who is there and not the nanny. Anyway, I find a good spot to park close by the in-ground play area. Most of it is the fun swings and slides and a volleyball and basketball court for the older kids.

“What’s all this?” Kimberly looks out the window and rolls it down herself. I remember how I took the child lock off, and now I regret it.

“Don’t do that Kimberly. And I don’t know.” I stall the car, not even parking yet, when I look closer at the crowd of people circled around shouting.

I still park, and we get out. As I get closer, I’m next to floored but somehow not surprised. The crowd is shouting and pressed together because Lowell is there, unassuming in his jeans and plain blue Henley, but they know who he is.

“It’s Daddy. I knew he was famous…” Kimberly gasps, and as soon as I hear her door click open, I quickly stop her and shout too loud, too fast. She whips around to look at me with her eyes glistening.

“Sorry, hon, wait a second. Okay?” She nods and shuts the door.

I cut the engine and get out coming to her side to help her out of the car seat, though she already has it unbuckled.

“Come on.”

“Will we say hi to Daddy?” She holds my hand tightly and trots along next to me.

“Not now.” I swallow hard. I don’t know what to do. I don’t want all those people taking photos of him to catch Kimberly in the crossfire, for him to see us and then make it obvious.

I decide the best thing and then crouch down to Kimberly in front of the car where he might not see us.

“Okay, why don’t you go ahead and play, and we’ll meet you there. Not too far, and remember—”

“Your rules, I remember.” She glances over at the crowd of people and then back to me, the scowl on her little face like she knows what’s going on. But she still skips away, and I follow her with my eyes.

I wait a bit watching her on the mini obstacle course and then Lowell until the crowd dissipates a bit. People stand by on the edge, nervous maybe, I don’t know, but he finds it safe to come my way once he sees me.

“Hey.” He smiles at me, and mine doesn’t quite come through.

Everything from this morning and last night comes flooding back to me. But now I see what I was really worried about—I had to experience it to know. Keeping Kimberly from her father, worried about what people will say about us together. I can’t be ready for it that fast, and Kimberly shouldn’t have to either.

“Lowell… I think you should go.”

His smile falls. “What?”

I shake my head stepping back when he comes closer. I cross my arms as I feel eyes on me everywhere.

“The crowd of people was my fault. I usually wear a hat in places like this.” He smirks, but I can’t find it funny right now.

“People are still staring, Lowell.”

“But I—”

“Please,” when a swarm of people starts coming his way, waving, I feel everything cracking around me, and I want to escape.

“I don’t want to make a scene or something worse.” Like him taking photos with other kids but not being able to play with Kimberly because then people will harass her too. Boundaries don’t exist for people like Lowell or the people in his life. I can’t keep him from his daughter, but I can’t subject her to this life either.

“Char, don’t—”

“Lowell Blake!”

“Hey, it is him!”

One after the other, they say things along the same lines. I step farther back until enough people separate us, and he gives up.

I mouth, “I’m sorry.” And I join Kimberly on the playground, turning her from the crowd of people around her father.

“I think I figured it out, boss.”

I turn to Dani, pulling away from my thoughts. I spend more time at work, so I’m not on my own too much, doing stuff the manager should be doing. Dani doesn’t seem to mind, though.

“What?”

She sits across from me at my desk with her new neon green hair and matching eye makeup.

“Where the money has been going.” She drops a thin stack of papers on the table.

I look through them—a hiring information sheet for one of my newest employees only a few months ago. She’s young, conventionally pretty, and also a model. She does a lot of ebony features and such.

“It matches up to when money started disappearing. So, I talked to her.”

“You asked her about it?” I gape. Dani shrugs like it’s no big deal, but I know a false accusation could have been really bad.

“Yeah. Deftly. She was hired to work here—”

“Hired to… what?” I shuffle through the papers—a quick list of expense reports and how much money had gone missing. It’s exactly enough to look like I am skimping on taxes which could have easily brought the attention of the IRS and the Small Business Bureau.

“To work here, to get access to the books, which weren’t kept too safe, but we can talk about that later. She seemed nice as if she wasn’t doing it to be malicious.”

“Then why?” I interrupt. I wish I could have talked to her myself, but my mind has been occupied the past few weeks with avoiding Lowell and protecting Kimberly.

Dani sighs. “For her modeling. Some guy had all the contacts she needed. He met her at a party before the playoffs. He’s a sports agent, so I don’t know why he cares about models. Anyway, this Donnie guy promised her all this stuff that got better the more she did…”

“Wait, who? You said Donnie?”

I run cold at the mention of his name, like that day in the parking lot… goodness, less than a few weeks after I hired Regina, the model slash hairstylist. She was actually good, though. I’m not sure which one she was faking at.

“Yeah. Why?”

I shake my head at her, dismissing her as nicely as I can, so I can freak out by myself.

I didn’t think I underestimated him, but apparently, I did since he is capable of this. Almost ten thousand dollars from here and there in the business, perfectly placed, would have flagged my salon, which he must have wanted. When he said ‘or else,’ I thought he was some stuffy man trying to keep his talent to himself and the money. Obviously, he doesn’t know the half of it since Lowell and I are barely even together, and I haven’t taken a cent of his money.

To say I’m angry is an understatement. Hurt mostly, and I don’t deserve this at all. Because of who I got involved with, once again. The worst part is I don’t even know who to tell or who to call to ask for help. Catherine would have a mouthful to say, which she already has about Lowell recently. But she’s it. Concerning Donnie…

There is only one person who can help me with this.