Page 22 of War

“Try not to forget about me tonight, yeah?” He pulls my fingers to his lips and kisses them. As the light ahead turns red, he stops and eyes me. “You look beautiful.”

Heat creeps into my cheeks. “Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.”

He’s dressed in a deep green sweater and a pair of corduroy pants, and as always, his dark hair is trimmed short, and it’s gelled and professional. His brown eyes are warm as they rove over me, and his face is smooth. He spends quite a bit of time and money on his skincare routine, and it’s paying off.

When the light turns green, Xander blows out a breath. “I just wish we were celebrating anywhere but his house tonight. Maybe next year we can spend the holidays with your family.”

Humming, I focus my gaze out the window. Christmas at War’s house will surely be different from how my family celebrates.

My mother always went all out, with decorations and magic galore. I don’t see Tyler Warren going that route, even if his house is as far as it can get from the bachelor pad one would expect him to have. I actually can’t see him hosting Christmas, period.

His father suggested we all spend the evening at the lakeside home so that Tyler wouldn’t have to travel with the kids. The entire family was just as shocked as me to learn that Tyler was raising three children. Apparently there’s an older boy named Brayden, along with Josie and Scarlett. Obviously I’m ecstatic about seeing Josie. We’ve been FaceTiming daily since I saw her at the hospital, but we haven’t had that playdate yet. She’s off school for the next two weeks,so with any luck, we can see each other at least once more during the holiday break. Despite my eagerness to see my sweet girl, I never could have imagined spending my first holiday with Xander at the home of my sworn enemy.

The two men couldn’t be more different.

Xander is sweet, and despite the night out he had with the Bolts players, I’ve never known his eyes to wander. He hasn’t ever stood me up. If anything, he’s always around. Sometimes even when I don’t necessarily want him there. Hell, he comes to more of the Bolts charity things than War.

Not to be cheeky, but War just skates by on his talent and good looks. He shows up—late—and charms everyone around him with ease. He never gives his full attention to any conversation or topic, always scrolling through his phone when we’re out at bars—because yes, my best friends are with his best friends so we’re often together—zoning in and out of conversation, unless one of the guys is talking to him. They’re about the only people in existence he deems worthy of his sole focus. The girls he hangs out with? Never. He’s a playboy interested in only one thing, and he somehow manages to find women who are clueless enough, or maybe desperate enough, to give him what he wants despite the minimal effort he puts in.

“Excited to see Josie?” Xander asks, pulling me from my musings.

My chest tightens. “I really am. I’ve never wanted kids, but I’d do just about anything for her.”

Xander’s warm eyes find mine again. “I know, baby. Because you’re an angel.”

As we turn onto War’s street, darkness settles around us, bringing with it a sense of dread.

“And,” Xander says, oblivious to the shift, “I’m so glad you’re mine.”

NINE

TYLER

“What about this one?”Josie says from her room.

With Scarlett in my arms, I stride down the hall, headed downstairs, since my family should be here soon.

Everything about this holiday is strange. I’m pretty sure I shocked the hell out of my father when I called to tell him that I’m now a father with three kids in my care.

But it’s going to be fine. Everything is fine.

I stop outside Josie’s open door and peek into the pink room, finding her standing in front of Maria. She’s wearing a green dress, but she’s tugging on it, as if she’s uncomfortable. Maria tuts gently and grasps her arms to stop her from fussing with the skirt. It’s made of some type of mesh material and juts out and away from her body, kind of like a tutu.

Honestly, it looks like it belongs on a younger girl. Like Scarlett. I look down at the two-year-old and realize she’s wearing the same green dress. Where they got these matching outfits, I haven’t a clue. All I know is the girl who’s always smiling does not look the least bit happy.

With a quick knock, I push the door open farther. “Hey, fighter, you almost ready?”

Josie swallows down her frown, takes adeep breath, and offers me a smile. “Yeah. I was just finishing up. Do you think your parents will like the dress?”

Her words stop me in my tracks, and suddenly, I feel like I’m six again. Or seven, eight, nine. Somewhere around there, and even years after. Pick an age, and I have a story about a time I tried to change myself in hopes that I’d be what Dory or my father wanted.

It never worked, by the way. Dory wouldn’t have liked me even if I’d been a carbon copy of her own precious son. My dad? I can see now that I wasn’t ever a disappointment to him. He just wasn’t emotionally available, nor was he always physically there. But I craved that connection. Especially after my mother passed.

Changing myself, searching for the secret that would lead them to care about me, took up far more mental capacity than I’d like to admit.

Thank fuck I’ve had enough therapy to handle this moment right here. Failing Josie isn’t an option, and I won’t allow her to fall into the same insecurities I spent years working through.

As I settle Scarlett on the floor, she happily plucks at the tutu on her own dress, oblivious to the heaviness that’s settled in the room.

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