Page 103 of Second-Rate Superstar

My heart twisted inside my chest. It was a beautiful picture Natalie painted of paternal love, but one I hadn’t seen in action until now. It wasn’t just that my own dad was nothing to write home about, but that Braxton’s had no issue mistreating him in public. I knew Braxton would move heaven and earth to be the kind of father Jaxon was to his kids. That thought helped dull the pain to an ache.

We would do better for our family—no matter when that was.

Was it weird that I’d accepted the eventuality of a life with Braxton? It wasn’t a question of “if” anymore, but “when.” And after last night, I couldn’t imagine letting anyone else get that close to me. It took an insane amount of trust, which I didn’t give freely. That man held my heart—my life—in his hands.

The stomping of boots startled me, and I jolted enough to have coffee sloshing over the side of my mug and onto the floor. Muttering to myself about being clumsy, I snatched paper towels to clean the mess as the Slate crew strode noisily into the kitchen, each sporting rosy cheeks.

“Guess it’s time for an early lunch break to warm up before they head back out.” Natalie winked, catching my eye.

Feeling the need to be helpful, I offered, “I can help.”

“I think the day calls for grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup.” She moved past me into the large pantry before returning with large cans of condensed soup.

Jaxon plopped Charlie onto the island, and that’s when I realized we were missing someone.

“Where’s Braxton?” I asked.

Eyes shifting to his wife before returning to meet my gaze, he replied, “He said he might be in later.”

My heart sank, and nausea churned in my gut.

I’d brushed off waking up alone due to the time. Then, when Natalie told me they all went skating, I would never have expected him to just sit around, waiting until I woke. But now? He actively chose not to come inside with the rest of the crew. He was avoiding me.

I’d thought what we shared last night was special. It had certainly felt that way to me. But what did I know? I’d never had sex before. Maybe the endorphins messed with my head, making me think it meant more than simply chasing a high. Or perhaps he was still upset I hadn’t told him I was a virgin. Now that I thought back on it, I’d been the one pushing after he wanted to slow things down. More than once. And now he couldn’t bear to face me.

Then, my mind went to the absolute worst-case scenario—that now that we’d slept together, I no longer provided a challenge. That all of this had been an act, a game, to get into my pants. That Braxton was cut from the same cloth as my father and Levi but had hidden it better.

If last night had felt like a magical dream, this morning was a nightmare.

“You should go out and join him.” Natalie’s soft voice spoke to my right.

Great. These people had already seen me fall apart in front of them once this weekend. I couldn’t let it happen again. I was a big girl who’d made a conscious choice to sleep with Braxton. I couldn’t control his actions after the fact, only my own.

Schooling my features, I shook my head, grabbing a pan to heat the soup. “No, I think I’ll stay in today. I’m behind on my writing. Might as well take advantage while everyone is out.”

Yeah, that’s just what you need. In the frame of mind you’re in, you’ll likely end up writing some bullshit third-act breakup, and your readers will hate you for it.

Thankfully, Natalie didn’t press the subject, working alongside me, making no less than a dozen grilled cheeses that the kids scarfed down before bundling up and heading back outside.

As I was settling onto the couch with my computer perched on my lap, ready to let my feelings flow through my fingertip—confident that I’d end up deleting most of it anyway—Natalie came to stand before me.

Peering up, I could tell by how she twisted her hands that she was trying to decide whether to intervene now that the kids and Jaxon were gone. Her brown eyes were warm and full of compassion, but she must have decided against whatever case she intended to make as an excuse for Braxton. Smart lady. I wasn’t in the mood and didn’t want to come off like a bitch to his sister-in-law.

Instead, she asked, “Would you mind keeping an eye on Max for a bit so I can watch the kids outside? He’s all fed and changed, and down for a nap. You won’t have to do much other than ensure the house doesn’t burn down.” That got a small smile out of me, so she continued, “I’ll leave a monitor for you, and if he fusses before I’m back, just place a hand on his belly and rub, and he’ll likely conk back out. I know it’s a lot to ask—”

“I’d be happy to,” I cut her off. Honestly, I was glad for a chance to be alone until I sorted out the doubts swirling in my mind. “Go enjoy your children while they’re young.”

“Flies by faster every year,” she mused with a faraway smile, gazing out the window to where her family must be, off in the distance. I’d tried looking out there earlier but could barely make them out.

Natalie left me to bundle up and head outside. For a while, I sat there and stared at my blank computer screen. As much as I wanted to expel the toxic thoughts from my mind, I’d read one too many storylines about deleted files finding their way to someone and ruining a relationship. Once I finished having my pity party, I would talk to Braxton. That was the only way I could know what he was thinking and why he was keeping his distance after we’d shared such an intimate experience.

So, I closed my laptop and laid down on the couch, my eyes trained on the video monitor and baby Max’s steady breathing. Surprisingly, I found comfort in his innocence. His whole life was ahead of him, and I began creating stories in my mind about what that life might possibly be like. Anything was better than thinking about my own life. Even if only for a little while.

Max stirred only once while Natalie was gone, and her instructions to rub his belly worked like a charm. He was a beautiful baby, but I was still a little nervous about picking him up, so I was thankful when he went right back to sleep.

Ditching my plans to write while the house was silent, I picked up my e-reader, torturing myself by digging into miscommunication scenes I’d marked in various books. It was a reminder that Ineededto talk to Braxton. I didn’t want to see us fall into the same trap as fictional characters who lettheir emotions win out over common sense and maturity. I was smarter than that. I knew what needed to be done. The only problem was working up the courage to actually do it.

There was a light knock on the door, and I jumped up, rushing to answer for fear that whoever was there would knock loud enough to wake Max again. Twisting the deadbolt, I threw open the door. On the other side stood a woman I recognized from the video at Jaxon’s milestone game.

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