“And?” Chase prompted.
“And I listened,” I said. “They were adamant that I always have protection, but I also made it clear I’m not going to hide away and stop living my life.”
Jase smirked. “Hence the very public good-luck kisses.”
I shot him a look. “Oh, don’t even start. You two kissed on the field after the game.”
“That was a spontaneous team-bonding moment.” Dylan snorted.
“But you stole my move,” I deadpanned.
Gage chuckled. “I don’t think anyone missed the message.”
Eventually, the conversation drifted to the Seawolves' schedule, travel plans, and what else I would do while in town.
When Chase yawned, Gage stood and stretched. “All right. I think that’s our cue to call it a night.”
“We’ll see you in the morning,” Chase told us.
“Goodnight,” we all called out as they left the kitchen.
The three of us waited until we heard their door close before exchanging a glance.
Jase leaned in. “Farthest room from theirs?”
I laughed softly. “Absolutely.”
We tiptoed up the stairs and down the hall to Dylan’s room, as if we were sixteen again and sneaking around.
The door closed behind us and we spent the rest of the night trying to be as quiet as we could.
The next morning,the five of us crowded into the kitchen again, moving around each other as we made breakfast. Actually, the guys made breakfast, and I supervised.
As I watched Jase flip pancakes while Dylan stole a piece of bacon from the baking sheet, my heart did that little flippy thing it always did whenever I was with them, and it made me think how different my life looked these days.
I loved my family fiercely, and I always had. My childhood was full of opportunity and privilege, yet it was also structured, polished, and carefully managed, with household staff on hand to ensure everything was perfect. It was the kind of life people loved to reduce to headlines and clichés.
In the Statler-Matthewson house, nothing felt staged or formal. It was laid-back, fun, and sometimes a little loud. I smiled to myself, imagining what the tabloids would say if they saw me here, barefoot, drinking coffee from a Seawolves mug,perfectly content. Turns out the girl they called spoiled was happiest with life’s simple things.
My phone buzzed on the counter, and my pulse quickened when I saw the text from my mom:
Turn on the news. Now.
I frowned and set my coffee down. “This can’t be good.”
Jase straightened at once. “What’s going on?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. My mom said I needed to turn on the news.”
Gage picked up the remote, aimed it at the TV, and then selected one of the twenty-four-hour news channels.
On the screen, an anchor sat behind a desk and said, “Earlier today, as the president departed the White House, he was asked several questions about his daughter and her relationships, which have been making headlines since last night’s baseball game in Portland. Let’s take a look.”
The footage cut to the White House lawn, where my dad was getting ready to board Marine One but stopped to answer questions from the press pool.
“Mr. President, are the reports about your daughter true?”
“Is Faye Donnelley in a polyamorous relationship?”
