Page 24 of Heat Stroked


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Confusion silences both of them.

I lower the paper. “The risk taker version of me that would do things like give this crazy hookup a try, doesn’t always play out so well. It won’t tarnish my reputation to go to court and possibly jail over something I didn’t even do. I’ve been there before. But if you’re worried that your daughter’s domestic dispute could be a problem, you have no idea what real problems are.”

“Baby—”

“Stop calling me that, Roarke.”

His expression hardens, but this is the way it has to be. The sooner he stops calling me Baby, the sooner I can forget what a good Daddy he is. Well, not exactlyforget, but I can move on.

Bennett takes over, “Who’s taking you to court? What happened? Maybe we can help.”

“The damage is already done. And honestly, I’ll feel a lot better if I only have myself to think about. This is goodbye.” My flimsy apartment door suddenly weighs a thousand pounds. I can barely move it, but I have to.

My normal self would fall back into their arms, which probably makes that the bad decision I would be wise to avoid. They’ve been good to me, good for me…and in the short time we’ve been together, I’ve grown, which is why I find the fortitude to make the right decision.

I close my eyes, ignore my broken heart, and muster herculean strength to close the door.

But I fail. There’s a stronger force at play. A force that comes with the name of Daddy.

His hand wraps around the edge of the door, risking getting smashed, and stopping it inches from closing. I can’t move it anymore. I’m not strong enough physically or mentally.

“Baby, don’t ever shut us out.” Roarke’s voice is low and soothing. It works its way into every crevice of my soul. I stare at his thick fingers wrapped around the edge of the door.

“We said we’re here for you and we meant it.” Bennett’s voice seeps into all of the same crevices as Roarke’s, solidifying our bond, reminding me why I fell for them. My inability to walk away from them wasn’t just because of the sex…the fun…it was this thing that no one else has ever made me feel.

How can I trust something I don’t understand? “No.” I’m not sure I even say it out loud.

Roarke gently pushes the door, and I relent, stepping backward, my gaze lowered. If I’m wrong, if this isn’t some cosmic twist of the universe bringing us together, I’ll never survive the fallout when they ultimately leave me.

I muster my last defense. “I have to go to court because my car was involved in a wreck that caused property damage to a building.”

Wringing my hands, I stare at my bare feet while I continue. “I wasn’t driving, or even in the car. I’d been out with a friend, if you can call her that, and she offered me twenty dollars to borrow my car for the night. She’s the one who crashed it, but she fled the scene.”

“You tried to help a friend, there’s nothing wrong with that.” The kind words and brush of Bennett’s hand up and down my arm leave me feeling undeserving of their love.

“She’d been drinking and I knew she was going to a party, but I needed the money. I am at fault. Someone could have gotten hurt.” My admission unleashes the tears I’d promised myself not to shed.

Their silence is different this time. It’s tender and accepting as they wrap their arms around me.

Kisses on the top of my head. Long, slow strokes of a hand down my back. And no judgment. Neither of them tells me that there’s nothing to worry about since it was only bricks and wood that got hurt. They accept that I’m scared and frustrated.

Once again, I’m strengthened by having people who support me. What would it have been like to have this throughout my childhood?

Roarke takes the subpoena from my hand and sets it aside, then drops his head beside mine. “When I told you to call me Daddy, that wasn’t just for fun. That was me committing to you. I’m here for you, forever.”

“Thank you, Daddy.”

“I’m here for you too. We’ll help you through this.” Bennett adds.

“Even if that means vising me in jail?”

Bennett feeds off of my levity. “Anyone tries to put my baby mama in jail, and I’ll lose my mind. Might make some bad decisions of my own, and end up in a cell with someone not nearly as pretty as you.”

“He might let you call him Daddy.” I blow off his baby mama comment since I haven’t been at the fertile part of my cycle, but it has to be on all of our minds.

Roarke scoops me up and my legs wrap around his waist as he carries me to my couch. He sits with me still wrapped around him, and Bennett stands behind me, stripping my dress.

I might as well be naked. My rich, doctor boyfriends are in my one-bedroom apartment with my mismatched, secondhand furniture. The dishes in the sink are visible from where we sit. The extent of my wall décor is posters stuck to the wall with a sticky putty that’s not supposed to leave a stain or peel paint when it’s removed—so I can get my full deposit back if I ever move. There’s no hiding who I am.

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