Page 135 of Unravel Me

Adam’s hand slips over my hip, pulling me close, his lips at my ear. “You okay?”

“Oh shit.” I clap a hand to my forehead. “I haven’t said a word yet, have I? I’m Rosie.” I hold my hand out, then pull it back. “Oh right. We already hugged.” I wipe my palms on my jeans. “I’m nervous.”

“You know what’s great for nerves?” Cara asks, transferring Connor to her hip and looping her arm through mine. “Frozen margaritas.” She leans close as she leads me down the hallway, the sound of…singing?gracing our ears. “You’re gonna need at least five.”

The sight in the living room is interesting, to say the least. Every bit of anxiety I’ve been holding onto at the thought of meeting Adam’s family melts away as I watch Carter Beckett and his sister, Jennie, putting on a whole-ass show while they sing the karaoke version of “I Just Can’t Wait To Be King.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah,” Cara whispers. “You wouldn’t believe how often this happens.”

Garrett slips up beside us, sipping a can of cherry soda water. “Jennie’s ass looks unreal in those jeans, huh?”

“Shutup, Garrett!” Carter screams, spinning to us. He stops when he sees me, tossing his microphone over his shoulder. “Ollie! Rosie’s here!”

Footsteps patter, and a moment later a petite brunette slides into the room, holding her teensy tiny twin. “Oh my God.” Are those…tears? “Finally.”

Jennie dances over, a brilliant, dimple-popping smile on display when she bounces to a stop in front of me, her long chestnut hair tied back with a ribbon. “Hi. I’m the funnier, better looking, and more mature Beckett sibling. Can I give you a hug?”

“I’d love one,” I say, swallowing down the emotion crawling up my throat as she gives me a squeeze, so warm, like being wrapped in sunshine. Everyone is so damnnice, and I had no less than three anxiety attacks today over the prospect of meeting them.

Carter saunters over, and I swear to God, I’m doing everything in my power to not look at his crotch. It’s been shoved in my face seventeen thousand times at the bus stop, I almost feel like we’re friends.

“Carter Beckett, NHL captain, Calvin Klein underwear model, GQ’s Sexiest Man, and DILF extraordinaire.” His chest puffs with pride, and he shrugs. The humble brag rolling off him in waves is astonishing. “Some people also call me Mr. Incredible.”

“Oh for God’s sake, Carter.” Olivia rolls her eyes and sighs. “I’m sorry. He’s…well, he’s like this all the time. I’m Olivia, and I’m stuck with him for the rest of my life.” She passes her daughter off to Carter and squeezes me against her. “It’s so good to meet you, Rosie.”

Carter shoves his adorable daughter in my face. “And I’m Ireland, my daddy’s biggest fan and his pride and joy.”

“Hi, Ireland,” I snicker, shaking her tiny hand. “You are just perfect, aren’t you?”

“I-lan!” Connor squeals, tugging at Carter’s pants until he plops her down on the floor in front of him. “Woooah-ho-ho,” Connor wonders aloud, crouching to look at her, hands on his knees. He waves at her, then pats her fluffy, dark curls. “Hi, I-lan. Hi, baby.” He smiles, eyes alight, and points at his chest. “Conn’a hug I-lan?”

“Olivia!” Carter shrieks, waving aimlessly. “Get the camera! It’s happening!” He tears the video recorder from her hand when she returns with it, and sinks to his belly on the floor, eyes glittering as he records my son hugging this sweet little girl. “Her first friend.”

He stands, running his hand down his chest as he sighs, and it’s then I notice his shirt. It’s a picture of him and Ireland,Daddyscrawled overtop of it. My gaze goes to Ireland as Connor releases the giggling girl, and I fold my lips into my mouth when I spy her onesie.

Because the picture on it matches Carter’s, and scrawled on top of hers?Daddy’s Princess.

Adam shoves a frozen margarita into my hand. “You’ve met everyone, seen the Beckett siblings do karaoke, and been subjected to Carter’s shirts, which, by the way, he has a whole closet full of. You deserve this. Cara put extra tequila in it.”

The extra tequila is wonderful, and so is the strawberry daiquiri Cara makes me next, but if I’m being honest, it’s the people that make this night so effortless. To exist here with them, to be at ease with being myself. Watching them welcome Connor into their family, dancing around the living room with him, interacting with him the exact same way they do Ireland. There’s no difference here, not with them. Family is family, plain and simple.

And they’re treating us exactly like we’re theirs.

“He keeps whacking me in the balls every morning. Like, as soon as I step out of bed.”

“Maybe sleep with underwear on?” I suggest to Jaxon, who is apparently being abused by Mittens every day.

He flashes me a look of disgust. “No way. I like to free-ball it. My boys love to hang free.”

“Okay, well, you could slip a pair on before you get out of bed.”

“And take ’em off two seconds later when I go for my morning pee? Nah.”

“I might be out of solutions for you then, Jaxon. Wrap your junk, or Mittens will continue to use it for batting practice.”

He huffs, sinking back against the couch, but smiles at his screen saver. It’s his and Mittens’ faces, smooshed together side by side. “He’s lucky he’s so damn cute.”

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