Chapter Twenty-One
MILLER
I was pissed.
Livid.
Beyond ready to break something with my bare hands. And I had practice in exactly six hours.
Which meant, either we talked or we slept.
How the hell did the media get ahold of that sort of information? Especially since it clearly wasn’t something either of them felt the need to tell me?
Kinsey came back into the room, her face unsure as she slowly crawled onto the bed, the towel still wrapped around her small body. “I don’t know how the hell they found out, but because Anderson’s been a real prick lately, I imagine he’s behind it. My adoption was just another thing that made him jealous of Jax. It was the tipping point between us, he could never handle the relationship Jax and I had—have.” Her eyes filled with tears. “But, Miller, I’m still his sister, in every way that matters.”
“That’s what you lead with?” I tried and failed to keep the edge out of my voice, but something about the situation was pissing me off, and I had no clue why.
“What?” Kinsey pulled the towel tighter like she was trying to protect herself from me, like I was about to hurt her. “What do you want me to say? That I’m sorry I didn’t tell you? When would you have liked me to give you my life story, Miller? Hmm? Was it before you slept with me the first time? Or after? How about in between naked times? Or no!” She snapped her fingers. “Wait, I got it, at the airport, right? When you gave me your cell number . . .” She made a face. “Oh, that’s right, you didn’t. Or how about all of those times you emailed? No, that wouldn’t work either, well, maybe right when I got back from Europe. Yup, that works perfect, except this happened.” She gestured between us. “And I’m sorry that I’ve been a bit distracted lately but, come on!” Tears spilled onto her cheeks. “When is there a good time to tell someone you care about that the two people in her life who should have loved her the most chose drugs over her? Hmm? Or that the minute they got out of prison for selling drugs, the only reason they reached out to me was because they’d discovered that the family who’d adopted me had a son in the NFL? By then I was old enough to know that the only thing they would ever want from me or from my family would be money.”
Chills racked my body. “What?”
“Jax is my brother,” she said defensively. “He’s always been my brother, ever since I was eleven he’s been my brother . . . but before then . . . he was just . . . my next-door neighbor. The kid whose house I slept at when my parents were on benders. His dad—I mean, my dad, my mom—they’re my real parents, they’re the ones who gave me Christmas presents when I didn’t even have a candy cane in my house, they’re the ones who remembered my birthday, they made sure I had new winter boots, that I had a jacket for school, Mom would even take me for ice cream after the first day of school and ask how it went, they’ve always been my parents.” She crossed her arms, as a few tears slid down her cheeks. “I just, I didn’t want to bring up everything, not with . . .”
“Your dad’s illness,” I finished for her, rubbing my hands over my face. “And all this Anderson shit . . .”
“I think he still hates Jax because of it and blames Jax for our relationship ending when really it was because he was an abusive controlling psychopath. But, for a while he made me feel . . . good and then it was like I was trapped in my old house just waiting for someone to rescue me.” She blinked back tears. “He was always accusing Jax of looking at me like he wanted me.”
“Kins.” God, I was a dick. “Tell me you know I’m not like that, that I would never lay a finger on you, or even think that there was something between you and your brother. Tell me you’re not putting me in the same category as Anderson.”
Her shoulders slumped. “I know you’re not him, but you got so upset and—”
“Upset,” I interrupted, “because I care about you, because I want to know you, I want everything, every damn piece of you. So when I learn that you’re adopted from the news instead of you, yeah, I reacted, and I’m sorry, but know that I’d never treat you the way that jackass did.”
She gulped.
“Besides, I was having one of those moments, the kind where an asshole takes control of my mouth and I let him.”
She sniffled.
Shit.
“My dad was”—I coughed—“is an alcoholic. Once my mom died he just . . . wanted the bottle more, I think he just wanted the pain to go away, but when you love someone that much, I don’t think it ever really does.” I let out a rough exhale. “I don’t even see him anymore, not for lack of trying, the guy asks for money, I give it, and sometimes he texts me an update on his life. We all have messed-up pasts, you know?”
Kinsey reached for my hand and squeezed.
I sighed. “We should go to bed.”
“Yeah.”
“Together.”
“You actually claiming me, Miller?” she teased.
“Yeah, friend.” I tugged her against me. “But lose the towel.”
“I’m a lady.”
“Yes,” I said gruffly against her neck. “You’re my lady.”
She giggled. “That sounded so cheesy and yet, my stupid heart just flipped.”
“Damn right it did.” I pressed a kiss to her temple. “Because I’m Quinton Miller, that’s why.”
I got an elbow in the stomach. “Temper the arrogance.”
“It’s confidence.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah.” I turned around and flipped off the light then brought her body into mine, tucking her where she belonged, by my side. “For example, I’m confident I’m going to wake up at least once and sink between your thighs. I’m confident you’ll let me.”
Her breath hitched.
“I’m confident that tomorrow morning, when I press a kiss between your legs, I’ll curse the fact that I have to go to practice, and you’ll curse the fact that if you’re late you’ll have to do burpees.” I turned her to face me. “I’m also confident that it’s going to take a hell of a lot of hits to keep my focus on the game, instead of your face.”
“Just my face.”
“These too.” I grabbed her boobs playfully then gripped her ass. “And this, let’s not forget this.”
She arched that perfect ass into my hand.
“Careful,” I ground out, my fingers digging into her flesh. “I’ll take it as another invitation.”
“Funny, since I’m confident that you want to be invited in.”
“Always.” I laughed. “Except we really do need to sleep, day one is grueling.”
She groaned and then wrapped her arms around my neck. “No more secrets.”
I stilled. “Kins, we can’t tell Jax.”
“But—”
I kissed her doubts away. “Wait until after a few games, alright? Let him get used to seeing us together. Especially now that I know why he’s so protective of you.”
She frowned. “Because he’s a big brother?”
“No, Kins.” I sighed. “Because when you needed a hero the most, it sounds like he put on a fucking cape and rescued you like big brothers are supposed to . . . Because when you cried, when you were all alone, he was the one who dealt with the tears. Because when he closes his eyes at night, his only mission is to make sure those tears don’t happen again. Take it easy on Superman, it can’t be easy wearing a cape all the time.”
“Or spandex,” she added with a giggle.
I laughed. “Yeah, that too.”
“I’m gonna go talk to Dad after practice tomorrow, wanna come?”
I flinched. I didn’t mean to.
“Or not.” She started to move away.
“No, that’s not it.” I locked my arms around her. “I just—don’t you want some alone time with him?”
She ducked her head against my chest. “My dad knows everything about me. Let’s . . . at least be honest with him about this.”
She was asking me to tell her dying father that I had feelings for her.
No pressure.
“Alright.” I tried to breathe, but a pressure built up against my chest. “I’m not the best with death.”
“Funny, you were amazing with that little boy today.”
I sighed; she had no idea the toll it took on me emotionally not to burst into tears or just run away from it all—because even though my demons were different than hers, they still existed.
Loneliness still haunted.
Emptiness still lingered.
“Thanks, Kins.” That was it. A thank-you, a silent message to stop talking and sleep so I could figure out all the shit in my head, starting with what the hell I was going to tell her dying father, when I wasn’t even sure I knew what was going on.
Sleep didn’t come for another hour at least.
And when it finally did.
I dreamed of my mother’s face.
Her smile.
And the utter loss I’d felt when she was out of my life, when Emerson followed, and the numbness that took over the minute I realized the only person I could count on in this world was me.