“What’s so funny?” Mitch raises an eyebrow at me.
“Nothing,” I wheeze.
“What?”
“You were so fucking hot and awesome in there, Daddy,” I blurt as I scramble into Mitch’s lap and shower him with sloppy kisses. “So fucking hot! Can we go home and fuck now, please?” I pant like a dog in heat.
“Easy now,” Mitch laughs, squirming under my kisses. “We gotta make a stop first.”
“Nooo,” I groan. “I thought Cal already got everything for tomorrow.”
“Don’t be a brat,” Mitch says in that deep voice of his, and I positively shiver.
“You like it when I’m a brat,” I pout.
“I do, but now’s not the time, Tyler.” Ugh, I hate it when he Tyler’s me. “Now buckle up, baby.” That’s better.BabybeatsTylerany day of the week.
“Where’re we going?” I sigh as I fasten my seatbelt.
“Your place,” Mitch says, starting the engine. And my stomach drops. It just drops right out of my sore butthole.
“My place?” I quip. “Why are we going to my place?”I thought we were going home,I almost add, but then I realize, like the delusional idiot that I am, that my place ismyhome, whereas Mitch and Cal’s house istheirhome. Not mine. And suddenly it’s like I can’t see properly. Or hear anything. I see Mitch’s lips moving as he pulls out on the street, but there’s just this loud ringing sound in my ears. It’s like I can’t breathe, my heart pounding like crazy in my chest, my future dissolving in front of me. And then the car stops and Mitch is shaking me, his mouth moving, his eyes worried.
“Ty? Ty? Baby, what’s wrong? Come back to me, Ty. Come back.” It’s like he’s speaking through a thick cloud of cotton. And then it’s like I’m the one wrapped in cotton, two strong arms around me, Mitch’s familiar scent engulfing me. “Come back to me, Ty,” Mitch pleads against my ear as he presses scruffy kisses everywhere he can reach.
Pushing away from him, I blink my eyes, looking up at him. He looks devastated. Poor Daddy. He looks how I feel on the inside.
“Where did you go?” he pants. “What happened?”
“I don’t… I don’t wanna go back to my place,” I force out, my voice nothing but a pathetic whisper. Mitch looks at me, puzzled at first, until something seems to dawn on him.
“Shit, baby, I’m sorry,” he says, clasping my cheeks in his big, warm hands. “I didn’t think. I’m sorry.” And it’s like I have cotton for brains now because I don’t understand a thing. “We’re just gonna grab your stuff and then we go home. Okay? Okay, baby?”
“My stuff?” I blurt, dumbfounded.
“Yeah. Your stuff,” Mitch smiles shyly, a wet sheen to his eyes. “We, uhm… we talked about it. Cal and me. While you were gone. And we both agree.”
“On what?” I ask as hope builds inside my chest. “What did you agree on, Daddy?”
“That… I mean, only if you want to. No pressure at all,” he blabbers, his cheeks painted in pink. “That maybe you could come live with us. Cal and me. And Bree, too. In our home. It could be your home, too. We could be a real…”
“Family?” I finish his rant, the angels now back to singing, this time Labrinth’sForever.
“Yeah,” my Daddy breathes. “A real family.”
“I wanna!” I yell, my seatbelt off, then scrambling back into his lap. “Isooowanna,” I cry and laugh against his neck. “I want nothing more than that,” I snort. Yep, that’s me. Super charming when my Daddy is blowing my fucking panties off with the ultimate romantic gesture.
“Yeah?” Mitch laughs too, squeezing the living daylights out of me. “You wanna? You wanna be ours?” he growls.
“I was always yours, Mitchy,” I smile against his musky skin. “Yours and Cal’s,” I pant. “Now can we pretty fucking please go get my stuff so that we can go home and fuck?!”
“Sure,” Mitch shrugs, slapping my ass. “Let’s go, baby.” He maneuvers me back in my seat, strapping me back in and pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. Then he starts the car and we drive through the quiet night, Mitch’s hand resting heavily, protectively, possessively on my thigh, right above my tattoo. And it’s true. My heart is too big for just one of them. Maybe that’s why it was so restless all along, my heart. Not anymore, though. Not anymore.
Epilogue
Mitch
Last night was a crazy rollercoaster of emotions. It was hard enough sending Ty off to see Catarina and Dale, but hearing his frail, hurt voice on the phone after another verbal abuse session by that asshole nearly tore me to shreds. Then the faceoff with that piece of shit. My hands were itching to rearrange his face, but I know all too well how that song goes. So I opted for just placing my palm smack in the middle of his face. If it wasn’t because I could tell that Catarina was so out of it mentally, I would’ve given her a piece of my mind, too. I may still do it one of these days. She may have checked out of her own life, but that’s no excuse for enabling Dale in his continued abuse of Tyler. It ends now, though. Ty’s with us. With Cal and me.
