“Grown-up reasons.” And because I need to change the subject from that. “You’ve stayed here before, huh?”
She nods vigorously. “Uncle Micha has a princess room for me. It’s my favorite.” Then she frowns, her body sinking in on itself. “Other than my old room at my mom’s and stepdad’s.”
I didn’t know she had a stepdad. I wonder if he’s still in the picture.
“I get that. Moving is hard. I moved recently too. It’s not fun.”
She shakes her blonde head, her curls bouncing. Other than the dark eyes, she looks so much like Aston. I never met his ex-wife, so I have no clue what she looked like.
“What was your favorite thing about your old room?”
“My rainbow fairy lights and my pictures.”
“We can make some new pictures if you want. I love to draw, and I’m pretty good at it.”
A smile lights up her face, but before she can say anything, her father comes back over and interrupts us. “Can I talk to you?” Aston asks, a hard edge to his voice.
“Sure.” I smile sweetly at him, which makes his jaw twitch a little. Fun.
“Zo-Zo, you can go up to your room. I’ll come get you in a few minutes.”
“Okay. Bye, Sky.” She jumps up to give me a high five.
“Bye, Zoey. It was fun meeting you.”
She scampers up the stairs, and I turn to Aston, only to havehim grab me by my arm and drag me back into the kitchen. “You’re not wearing pants.”
“Your powers of observation are masterful.”
He gives me an unimpressed look.
I throw my hands up in the air. “Get over it. You weren’t supposed to be here. I was alone. It’s not like my ass is showing. Either look or don’t.”
He grunts. “Micha said he can’t kick you out.” He paces in front of me. “But we can’t live here together. You know that, right?”
I huff a breath. “I already live here, Aston. I have been for six weeks.” And this house has become my sanctuary. My happy place. It’s a home I feel good and safe being in.
He stops and stands over me, staring down at me as an aggravated growl hits his lips. Before I can comprehend what he’s doing, he grasps my hips and lifts me until I’m seated on the counter.
“What the hell?” I swat his hands away.
“You’re too damn short to have this conversation with. This is better.”
I roll my eyes, fold my arms, and cross my knees, which covers my underwear but manages to hike up my shirt even more. Something I’m positive he notices. “I don’t like being manhandled without my permission.”
That pulls him up short, and he tilts his head. “What does that mean? You like being manhandled when you do give permission?”
I honestly said it as a joke, but it sounds kind of hot in the right situation with the right guy. “None of your business.”
He sighs. “Skylar, these past six months have been hell. Zoey’s mother died, and her stepfather decided he didn’t want any parenting responsibility for Zoey and essentially booted her out of their house the week Astrid died. I punched him out at the funeral because he had it coming, and I wasn’t in the bestmental state, and my kid was heartbroken on top of being heartbroken. I broke his jaw, and because he’s a lawyer and a dick, he had me arrested for assault and then dragged me through court over it. I had to deal with that and with Child and Family Services coming into my home to make sure Zoey was safe. Can you imagine that? All of that turmoil and upheaval for a five-year-old? Everything is finally settled, and now we’re here, trying to restart our lives, but so are you, and now my best friend is telling me you have to stay.”
I get it. He’s hurting, and they’ve been through unspeakable pain over the last six months. I’m not insensitive to that, especially for Zoey. But that doesn’t stop me from feeling rubbed raw and left outside naked. I don’t even know if that makes sense, but that’s how it’s been for me with nearly every guy in my life. Not my friends and not my father or even Micha. They’re men.
I’m talking about guys. Teased and belittled and made to feel small and insignificant. My entire life, that’s how it’s been for me. I was in a bad relationship for longer than I should have been with a guy who wasn’t good to me. With a guy who repeated the same bad behavior others did throughout my life, only worse, while gaslighting me and telling me he loved me. Then he started getting aggressive. It took a while, but I left him. I’m here, and for the first time in my life, I feel strong, capable, and in control.
Now the guy who gave me the best kiss of my life at a party two years ago, the same guy who called me a drunken mistake, is trying to kick me out onto the street.
“Where do you propose I go?” I ask in a small but unmistakably bitter voice. I don’t want to cry, but this morning took a miserable turn for me.
