The Secret Hook-Up

Fuck.

Fuck.

I’m staying in Copper Valley so I can be here if my niece needs anything.

That’s what I’ve told every fucking person who’s asked for months.

And the one night she needs me, I didn’t have my phone close enough. I wasn’t paying attention.

Once we get to her, I know I’ll be able to forgive myself.

But I don’t know if Addie can.

“I’m coming with you,” she tells me when I rush back into her bedroom, looking for clothes.

Her tone is so dead serious.

No-nonsense.

Badass.

Closed off.

“You don’t have to—” I start, but she cuts me off with a curt, “Yes, I do.”

Fuuuuuck.

Just fuck.

Is this it?

Is this when she tells me we can’t be together because we’re bad for the other people in our lives?

And why is that at the top of my head when Paisley’s calling me in a panic, feeling unsafe somewhere?

I need to get her and make sure she’s safe.

Then I’ll handle everything else.

We’re out the door and in the parking garage in record time.

She doesn’t argue when I tell her I’m driving.

She doesn’t say much of anything at all.

I’m white-knuckling the steering wheel with so much I want to say that I can’t find a place to start.

None of it matters until I have Paisley safe and sound.

I break every traffic law known to man while following my GPS’s instructions to the location Paisley gave me. When we arrive at the house a few blocks off campus, I barely get the SUV in park before I’m charging out of the car.

Addie leaps out too.

There’s a party going on inside the house. Someone in there scared the fuck out of my niece, and I’m going to fucking handle it. I’m halfway to the front door when Addie says my name.

She repeats it before I stop and look back, realizing she’s not keeping up.

And she’s not keeping up because she’s stepped into the shadows and is crouched with an arm around my niece.

“I’m sorry,” Paisley sobs quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, ma’am,” Addie says, equally quiet but so very, very firm. “We do not apologize for needing help or for wanting to feel safe.”

I suck in a breath.

“C’mon,” she adds. “Let’s get in the car.”

Paisley doesn’t hesitate. She’s on her feet faster than Addie is. When she reaches my SUV, she climbs into the back seat, and Addie follows her.

I trail both of them, feeling abnormally useless, but still ready to charge back into that party and solve things.

As soon as I figure out what needs to be solved.

Who needs to be solved.

Then, nothing’s stopping me from taking care of shit.

“What happened?” Addie’s saying as I climb into the passenger seat.

Closer to the house if I need to find someone.

“He wouldn’t quit dancing so close,” Paisley whispers.

“Who?”

“This dumb jock.”

“What sport?” I ask.

Addie shoots me a shut up look that sears my soul.

Not because I can’t handle her taking care of Paisley.

More because that fear is sitting just underneath my heart. This is it. This is her excuse to leave me. This is how it gets fucked up.

I’ll do something wrong.

She’ll think this never would’ve happened if we hadn’t been ignoring the rest of the world in favor of each other.

“Did he hurt you?” she asks Paisley.

My niece shakes her head. “He just…scared me. It’s dumb. It’s⁠—”

“Your safety is not dumb,” Addie says.

Paisley makes a noise.

“No, look at me. You get to feel safe. Okay?”

Paisley’s chin wobbles as she stares at Addie.

“You deserve to feel safe,” Addie repeats. “You get to take up space. You get to have needs. You deserve to be happy. And you do not ever, ever have to apologize for any of that, or minimize the bad things other people do to you.”

It’s the second time she’s said it, and it hits me harder this time.

Addie’s been through bad things. Likely things just like this. And I want to hide both of these two women away from the world so nothing can hurt them ever again.

But neither would let me.

And they shouldn’t.

They shouldn’t.

They deserve to experience the world and play ball and dance and party and have fun, and they deserve to do it safely.

And I want to be there for both of them, every minute, making sure nothing hurts them.

But I can’t.

I can’t.

So I have to trust that they’re smart and strong enough to take care of themselves.

That they’ll call for help when they need it.

Just like Paisley did tonight.

“He plays basketball.” Paisley’s breathing is ragged as she starts crying again. “And he wouldn’t quit touching my friends either. He—he hooked up with one of them last weekend, but then he got weird, so she didn’t want to see him again.”Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

“Where are your friends?”

“They left. I didn’t know they left. They brought me here. I didn’t know how to get home. I’m sor⁠—”

She cuts herself off and looks at Addie.

“Good job,” Addie whispers. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you for coming to get me.”

Addie wraps her in a hug. “Absolutely any fucking time at all. I’m going to get you a list of backup numbers since Duncan and I both travel so much, okay? Safe people. Good people. You can share them with your friends too.”

My heart starts beating again.

The night lies, my therapist used to tell me. It tells you the scary things that you want to believe.

The night is lying to me.

The night is telling me Addie will use this—will use us missing a call from Paisley—as an excuse to break up with me.

That she’ll say sure, we got to her safely this time, but what if we don’t the next time?

Except she’s already solving that problem.

We’ll get you other numbers to call if one of us doesn’t answer.

One of us.

Fuck me.

I need to quit being scared too.

I need to quit being scared that I’m not enough. I need to quit being scared that I’ll let her down. I need to quit being scared that she doesn’t need me.

She shouldn’t have to need me.

I just want her to want me.

“I was drinking,” Paisley whispers.

Addie makes a noise. “You’re in college. That’s expected.”

“I didn’t drink much though. I didn’t—I didn’t want to be dumb.”

Being involved with Addie is an exercise in feeling useless.

She meets my eyes while she hugs my niece, and the sad smile that crosses her features almost makes my heart crack.

Paisley’s safe.

Addie’s a fucking goddess who clearly knows how to handle this better than I do.

At least the Paisley side.

I’ll be having a talk with the basketball coach myself very, very, very soon.

Possibly within the next two hours. I don’t give a fuck what time it is.

I’m having a talk with the hockey coach, football coach, baseball coach, soccer coach, and any other coach I can find on this campus too.

I can wait until the sun’s up for those though.

Just like I’m sitting here hoping that that sad smile from Addie is all I hate parts of this world and not we fucked up so badly that this is a sign we can’t be together.

It’s I hate parts of this world.

It has to be.

The night is lying in trying to make me think otherwise.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” Paisley’s voice is muffled against Addie’s shoulder.

“Of course.”

“I have a class at ten.”

“We’ll get you back to campus before then.”

We. Again with the we.

She’s not bailing on me. I hold onto that thought as hard as I can.

“I’m sor—thank you,” Paisley says.

I look back at the house.

Party’s still raging inside.

“Is he still there?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “He left with friends. I saw them right before you called me back. Uncle Duncan, please don’t make a scene. I just—I just want to go home.”

I glance at Addie.

She’s still straight-faced, but there’s a tic in her jaw.

Betting she doesn’t like don’t make a scene any more than I do.

She nods to me. “Let’s go home.”

I circle the SUV, climb into the driver’s seat, and fire up the engine.

We’re going to my house.

Paisley will get a bed.

Addie will have to call a ride if she wants to tell me this is a sign we can’t be together.

But I hope she doesn’t.

I hope this is all just my own irrational fears.

Guess we’re about to find out.