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Do you think I’m going to give up easily? Let me put it this way. In my profession, you can make millions, or be in a wheelchair for the rest of your life but tell me, what kind of life are you living if you can’t tell a good story as to how you went out with a bang?
Do you see that guy by the pool? Not the one wearing his daughter’s floaties around his ankles and wrists so he can float effortlessly and work on his tan. I’m talking about the one who’s contemplating jumping off the roof and onto his brother—the one wearing the floaties—and kind of hoping it kills him.
Thankfully, for both of us, the thoughts are fleeting.
That guy, he’s not himself. Not anymore, not really, not at all. He’s the one in love with the adrenaline that the frightened girl gives him. The rush. The one that when they’re together, it’s explosive, undeniable, impulsive. You get the point. In other words, he wants restiveness and she’s exactly the kind of girl who pushes me toward that. I want the fights and the I hate yous. I want the anger, the resentment. I want all of that because it gives you something to fight for. If there’s no conflict, no meaning, what’s the point?
Do you see what I did there? How eerily similar we are, yet completely opposite in our attraction?
And she’s marrying someone else. How is that even possible? How could she?
Yes, I lied to her, but it was for her own good. She found out at twelve that her mother was raped and she was the product of it. For twelve years she believed the man who protected and looked after her was her dad. And he is for all intents and purposes. Just because she doesn’t have his blood running through her veins doesn’t mean he’s any less her father.
So forgive me for not wanting to further taint her image of a man who has done everything in his power to make sure she’s taken care of, loved and his number one priority. It’s more than I can say for my mother. She took one look at Tiller and said, “Fuck this shit, I’m out.”
Probably not how it went down, but if I had to guess, that bratty little shit of a kid had something to do with it. Anyways, you get the point. She didn’t need to know about her dad’s infidelity. What would it really solve?
Absolutely nothing.
While I contemplate, okay, obsess over my current dilemma, Tiller kicks his foot and splashes my face with water. “I liked you better when you were trying to kill me.”
Squinting into the sun, I glare at him. “I still might.”
He smirks and rips the floaties off his ankles and wrists. “You don’t have it in you anymore.” Standing in the shallow section, he raises his arms, taunting me.
I stand, as if I’m going to walk away and then I turn sharply on my heel and lunge for him. He goes down without a fight, laughing and swallowing water. We wrestle around for what seems like forever, nearly drown ourselves, until Scarlet and Amberly rush outside.
“Tiller, your balls!” Amberly yells at him, planting her hand on her hip with disapproval. “Roan, get off him. I want babies from him soon.”
That catches Tiller’s attention. He stands and slaps me on the cheek before facing Amberly, his eyes wide. “You do? Why?”
Scarlet tilts her head at Amberly whose cheeks are now red, a vast difference from her lilac hair. “You want to reproduce withhim?”
Amberly snorts and motions with a flick of her wrist at River. “He already reproduced once. Couldn’t be that bad.” Just as those words leave her lips, River, who’s wearing only underwear, her ratted hair tucked under Tiller’s race helmet, walks right off the pool deck and into the deep end of the pool. No floats, no mind to the depth of the water or the fact that she’s wearing a helmet on her head. All in.
Tiller lunges for her and brings her up within a second. She coughs, shakes her head in surprise and smiles at him. “That was fun!”
He holds her against his chest and removes the helmet. “No, that wasn’t. Don’t jump in the pool with a helmet on, Crazy.”
Her smile turns to a frown. “Why not?”
I wade my way to the edge of the pool and jump out. Reaching for a towel, I smile at River. “Because your dad did that as a kid, and look at him.”
Blinking slowly, she glances at me, then her dad and squeezes his cheeks together. “I think you’re pretty.”
We all laugh, because it has nothing to do with what just happened, but River’s really good at never making much sense.
Carefully, Tiller sets River back on the pool deck, hands her the floaties and reaches to snatch Amberly up in his arms. He’s soaking wet, yet she doesn’t care, and giggles. “Let’s go make some pretty babies.”
While they take off upstairs, Scarlet tilts her head in my direction, her eyes on River in the pool again. “I doubt that’s going to last long.”
I shake water from my hair and onto her. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t get my hair wet!” She slaps my face. Third time today I’ve been slapped. Berlin lobbed me upside the head with the goddamn bunny first thing this morning. I wasn’t even out of bed yet. “It takes me forever to dry it.”
I roll my eyes, uninterested, and reach for my phone on the patio table to check the time. I have a meeting in LA with Shade to go over the new apparel line for our clothing company. We purposely didn’t invite Tiller because he always says something to fuck it up.
“I mean with Tiller and Amberly.” She’s focused on her hair and making sure it’s a little less frizzy now. Impossible. She always looks like she stole a lion’s mane. “His balls are black. How can he get it up?”