What If (If Only.... #2)(58)

“I’m not going anywhere,” I tell her.

She lets out a long breath and joins me at the foot of the bed, unraveling the towel before resting her head on my shoulder.

“Okay.”

On the rare occasion I stay the night at my parents’ house and Nat’s around, she sometimes goes out on her own, leaving Violet to spend the night in the room my parents have made for her. I don’t know what Nat does when she’s out, but it’s nice to see her take time for herself. Watching Violet is beyond easy. The girl can practically take care of herself. And when I tuck her in at night, I always know Nat is a phone call away, or my parents are down the hall. The responsibility of taking care of Vi has never been solely placed on me. Not for real, anyway.

But as I tuck Maggie in now—groggy from her medication and the aftermath of the migraine—I’m struck with an awareness. If I f*ck up with Maggie in any way, I have no back-up, no support. I’m on my own.

I lie behind her on top of the blanket, my finger tracing circles on her shoulder.

“You’re going to go downstairs with them, right? I won’t be able to sleep if I know you missed the rest of the night with your friends.”

Even as she says them, her words slur with a heaviness of sleep I can’t begin to comprehend.

“I’m not drunk anymore,” she assures me with a small but painful laugh. “The migraine and the meds knock me out.”

I kiss her cheek, and she sighs, her eyes closed and her breaths deepening.

“Thank you,” she says dreamily. “It was a really good night until it wasn’t. I don’t expect you to know how to handle…” The rest of the sentence drops off, and I want her to stay awake long enough for me to convince her.

“It still is a good night,” I say quietly, but she doesn’t respond. “Maggie? Are you awake?” Again, nothing. “Nothing’s changed. I want the full deck,” I say, my lips brushing her temple.

It hits me how much I want it, how much I want more not only with Maggie, but more.

I look at the clock on the nightstand. Eleven-twenty. If I know him at all, I know my father is awake, catching up on paperwork in his home office or enjoying his Jack on the rocks on the screened-in porch.

Full deck.

If I’m going to be all-in with Maggie, I have to do the same with the rest of my life. I have a choice. I’ve just always opted for the easy way out, even if it means sacrificing what I want. I have to stop hoping my family will get sick enough of my bullshit to not want me to fulfill this plan they’ve set out for me ever since I was born with the one piece of anatomy my sisters didn’t have. I thought it sentenced me to a life of becoming not only my father in name but in everything else. It’s what I’ve been raised to believe and what I’ve been trying to escape. For the first time I need to choose what I want. Even if I have no idea what that is. Even if there’s risk. And f*cking hell, there is risk.

I stare at his cell number on the screen of my phone. All I have to do is tap send to change everything.

He answers on the first ring.

“Hey, Dad. We need to talk.”





Chapter Twenty-One


Maggie


Coffee with the Scotland gang isn’t as mortifying as I expect.

“We missed you last night,” Jordan tells me. “I’m so glad you’re feeling better.”

“Thank you,” I say.

“I once got so drunk I woke up on a round-about in the middle of town.” This from Duncan, and with it Elaina rolls her eyes while the rest of us laugh.

“And you wonder why it took me so long to kiss you. That is why. You were a boy. I had to wait for you to become a man.”

Elaina sips her espresso like it’s water, and Duncan whispers to the rest of us, “Probably shouldn’t tell her it happened after she snogged me, aye?”

She smacks him on the shoulder. “I can hear you!”

Again the laughter and Duncan telling her, “I know!”

This is how our short and final visit goes until it’s time to leave. Duncan and Elaina are staying a few more days with Jordan and Noah, first at Jordan’s family home in the suburbs, then in Ohio, where Jordan’s in grad school and where Noah teaches.

“You guys should come to my parents’ place. It’s less than an hour away.”

Jordan’s invitation is sincere, and had last night not gone the direction it did, I might hope for Griffin to accept. But I’m relieved when he shakes his head.

“We should get back,” he says, with no further explanation, but Jordan offers us both an understanding smile.

She hugs me tight. “He’s worth the fight,” she whispers.

I swallow hard at her wish because less than twenty-four hours ago it was mine, too. But it was a silly wish, a silly wish for a girl who’s way more of a handful than any guy could bargain for, especially this one. Griffin has enough to deal with without having to worry about the next time I disintegrate in public. He said so himself. And let’s face it, my track record for the past couple weeks has been shit.

Something is up with him, though. He gave me space this morning because he could tell I needed it, so we haven’t talked much. He should be sad to say good-bye to his friends. Maybe he is, but for some reason he’s beaming, an unwavering smile on his face despite Elaina and Duncan tearfully embracing him. He and Noah even hug, proof they must have smoothed over any strain they may have felt in each other’s presence.