Kicked: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (74 page)

When Flor and I arrived at our parents' house, the front door was unlocked and my stepmom's appetizers were overflowing the kitchen counter and spilling onto the table in the dining room. On the entryway table was a photo album, filled with pictures of me and Flor. It was open to one of us in high school, sitting on the edge of the dock at the lake, staring at each other. Looking at that picture now, I couldn't help but be embarrassed. The expression on my face was … I don't know how anyone could've missed my affection for Florian, even then.

He let his fingers graze the page and reached out to take my hand, leading me into the kitchen where my father and my stepmother waited.

When we walked in, her eyes flicked to our joined hands, but at least she smiled at us. My dad kept a neutral expression.

“Hi,” I said. It was the only word I could come up with. I wanted to say sorry or something, let her know how bad I felt about the baby, but I didn't know how to bring it up.

“Sit down,” my dad said, his eyes following Flor like a hawk. He didn't seem particularly happy to have him here, but he wasn't throwing punches either.

I settled myself on a stool while Florian stood behind me.

“What are we doing here?” he asked, cutting right through the bullshit and straight to the point. Typical Flor behavior, as usual. His mom's eyes clouded with tears for a minute, but she wiped them away with the corner of her apron and put yet another culinary masterpiece on the counter in front of me.

“Your father – ” River paused and rephrased her words, ever the psychologist. “Art and I wanted to talk to the two of you. I know it's been a while, too long, since we had a moment together.”

“You mean since you shunned us,” Flor snapped and she cringed. My dad rose to his feet, but she held out a hand to stop him from saying anything, focusing her green eyes on her son's. Maybe she could sense as well as I could that if Flor and my father got into another fistfight, their relationship would never recover.

“Losing that baby was one of the most difficult things that I've ever been through,” she said, her voice weakening for a moment. But then she inhaled like she was drawing strength from the situation. “The only thing worse than that, Flor, was losing you.”

Florian glanced away like he didn't care, but I knew he did.

“Losing one child made us realize how stupid we were to risk losing two more.”

My chest felt tight, but I didn't know what to say to that. Flor, however, was never one to suffer from a loss for words.

“Pretty words, Mom, but what does that mean really? Are you saying you'll take us as we are? Or as you wish we were?”

“I'm saying I don't understand yet, but I'm trying to. As long as this is more than just a sexual fling,” River paused as my father snorted and then continued, “we'd like to give you two the chance to work things out.”

Flor slid an arm around my waist, sending hot thrills through my blood, and my dad bristled like he'd been shot. His blue eyes focused first on my face and then on Flor's.

“Don't feel up my daughter in front of me,” he said and Flor stiffened, but I wouldn't let them fight this time. I reached up and touched my fingers to the tattoos on Flor's forearm.

“Dad, he's not feeling me up. He loves me, and I love him. I thought those would be the most difficult words I'd ever say to you, but they're not. They're the easiest. Maybe you and River getting together was fate? Maybe Flor and I were supposed to meet?”

“And then when you're done playing together, when he breaks up with you or cheats on you, then what?” my dad asked, and at the very least, I could tell he'd put some thought into it. And he was right.
If
we did break up (not gonna happen), then it could cause a rift in the family. Still, the possibility of future failure was not enough to deter me. I leaned into Florian.

“Dad, first you're telling me how horrible it would be if we got married or had kids and now you're telling me how horrible it would be if we broke up?” He didn't respond and pulled his glasses from his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Flor and I aren't just screwing around and we're not trying to hurt you. I know how unconventional this is, but just because something has never been done or isn't often done doesn't make it bad. All I'm asking is for you to accept us as we are now so we can keep this family together.”

My father turned away and I felt my heart start to break in two. If I was right, if he still blamed me for the loss of his baby, then we'd never get through this.

“I feel like you lied to me, Abigail,” my dad said, still not looking at me, staring at the cabinet where I thought the fridge might be (though I wasn't sure). “Girls get crushes on their older brothers all the time. It's normal to look up to people in your family, but nobody acts on it. It isn't right.” He finally turned around, a frown creasing up his face. I glanced at River who had eyes only for her son and I wondered. Did she love him more than my father loved me? I didn't want to believe that. “If you'd come to me, if you'd told me, we could've worked through this.”

I felt Florian stiffen behind me, but I wouldn't let the moment get away from us, not like this. I stayed in his arms, let his presence comfort me, and took a deep breath.

“That's not how this works, Dad. This isn't a problem or a mistake or an accident.” I glanced over at River again. “And it's not a tragedy. We … Flor and I didn't want you to lose your baby either.”

Silence settled on the kitchen and I wondered if I'd said the wrong thing. Had the possibility of a shared sibling been a hardship on Flor and me? Yes, it had. But like I'd told Flor before, you can't wave a magic wand and make that kind of stuff go away. If love had no hardships, if it was easy, then it wouldn't be worth so much.

“I know,” my father said, voice strangely soft. When he looked at me, I found myself staring into the same shade of blue that I saw in the mirror everyday. My eyes were really the only part of me that looked like him. The rest, I guessed, was from a mother I'd never know. My dad had said she was from Latin America, but that left a lot of countries and a lot of questions that even he didn't know the answers to. I wondered if his mistakes in love were what made him so fearful for me. “You're not cruel, Abi.” He took a deep breath and, reluctantly, glanced up at my stepbrother. “And neither is Florian.” The words rang with truth, even if he didn't look happy to be saying them. “It took me some time, but I realize that what happened was not your fault.”

I felt a well of hope spring in my chest.

“But that doesn't mean I'm okay with the rest of it.” My heart dropped as Flor squeezed me tighter, breathed warm against my hair. My dad's eyes narrowed in on us like he was staring through a magnifying glass, studying, analyzing. It was what he did best, after all. “But I'm also not okay with losing my daughter either. Florian, I know I've never really been able to accept you as a son, and I'm sorry for that, but I'm willing to try out a new relationship with you. This time, I'll look at you not as a child, but as a man. You're going to need to prove yourself to me.”

Flor nodded once, a sharp militaristic movement that made me want to roll my eyes.
The man talk was starting.
But all I could really do was smile. I felt the expression pull my lips apart in a grin. If my dad was lecturing Florian, then maybe that meant … we could be a family again? A different kind of family, maybe, but still a family.

“So you accept us?” Flor asked and I saw my dad's lips purse. He looked to River for help and I watched as she finally turned her gaze to me.

“We love you,” she said, “
both
of you.” Her emphasis of the word didn't escape me as Flor squeezed me even tighter against his chest. “The acceptance part we'll have to work on.” She held up a hand before anyone could speak. “This is not a commentary on you or your relationship, although that will take some getting used to, but a process, journey. As a family, we'll have to make it together.” River took another deep breath and adjusted the flawless aqua top she had on. She pretended to smooth out a wrinkle although I didn't see one.

“Mom,” Flor said, his voice cracking a bit with emotion, “you're doing the shrink shit again.”

My dad gave him a sharp look, but I broke from Flor's arms before he could say anything, and I hugged him like I hadn't done in years, wrapping my arms around him and squeezing tight enough that he grunted and carefully tried to untangle me. My dad was never that good with displays of affection, but he'd been there for me, that was more than I could say for most people's parents.

“No intimacy in the house,” he grumbled, glaring at Flor the way most fathers probably glare at their daughter's boyfriends. I didn't clarify what he meant. Obviously, it wasn't kissing he was worried about. “And don't disrespect your mother. I won't stand for it anymore now than I did before.”

“Whatever,” Flor said, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and sliding one between his lips. Nobody else might've noticed, but I'd been studying Florian for most of my life: his hands were shaking and the pulse in his throat was pounding a mile a minute. We stared at each other as a strangely peaceful (although somewhat awkward) silence descended on the kitchen. In that look, I saw a million unspoken truths, a few understandable fears, and a whole hell of a lot of love.

I moved towards him, deciding that it was better I test our parents' declarations now than wait till later, and pulled the cigarette from his lips so I could press my own against them. Flor took me in his arms and kissed me until my father's growl sounded suspiciously close to something a demon might make on its way out of hell.

“And I've decided,” River said, trying to break the awkwardness in the room by drawing all of our attention over to her. “That Art and I aren't going to try for another baby. If it'll make it easier for the two of you, I'd do anything.”

I turned to look over at my shoulder at Florian and saw not a smirk, but a smile. A real smile.

EPILOGUE

Three years later …

“Twenty-one is a big birthday, Abi. I'm not letting you wear jeans from
Ross Dress for Less.
”

Addison tossed a short, sparkly dress at me, and I made a face. It didn't matter how hard she tried or how much she pushed, I would never be a fashionista.

“There's nothing wrong with ten dollar jeans,” I mumbled, pretending I didn't see her plant a hand on her hip and toss a 'mom' look my way. Even Patrick admitted that narrowed gaze was terrifying. Addison was so good at it, she could soothe Max and Rhonda's baby without breaking a sweat. Personally, I was just glad they'd welcomed Flor and me back into their lives. At this point, the hurt feelings and the awkwardness were long gone. Max and Rhonda had a baby, Flor's old place to themselves, and two of the infamous dumpster kittens. And we, we had each other and that was all that mattered. Well, maybe that and our two cats. Bets, the older one, the true love of his life and the only girl that I still feared giving me a run for my money, had just peed all over Addison's Alexander McQueen knit dress, so I guessed I really shouldn't complain about today's outfit. If Addi'd really wanted to, she could've given me something pink to wear.

I curled my fingers around the fabric and ran my thumb across it, wondering what Flor would think of me in the dress.
Flor.
It didn't matter how long we were together or how many times I got to kiss him, it never got old. His eyes cut straight into my soul and his hands were like fire, his lips like flame.

“Abi.”

My friend snapped her fingers in front of my face.

“We're gonna be late if you keep spacing out.”

I rolled my eyes and stood up, turning around and changing quickly into the dress. Underneath, I had a very sultry set of red lingerie on, you know, just in case. Oh, who am I kidding? Flor was a sure thing. That, and I'd found my old shrine box in the trunk of his car. I'd been looking for a jack and hadn't expected to see it, but there it was. And inside, there were more than just pictures and an old hair clipping (God, I'm a creeper); there was a ring.

No need to wonder what that was for. I sucked in a deep breath and shook out my hands, trying not to get too excited about the prospect. I would save that for the actual moment.

“Theo and Yuu reserved us a table. We're practically royalty, okay? What's the rush?” I turned back around and held my arms out to the sides like a mannequin. Addison looked me up and down once and then nodded, reaching over to adjust the silver locket that I never took off. I sighed again, but I knew better than to argue with her. Besides, I was spending my twenty-first birthday at a drag club with two of the most fabulous hosts the world had ever seen. It was doubtless that I would be dragged up on stage for some sort of humiliating something or other. And I would have to endure it all in heels. Best I look good doing it.

I groaned when Addi pushed a box over to me with her foot and leaned down to open the lid with tentative fingers.

Crap.

Red heels.

I knew she was serious now.

“Little black dress, cap sleeves, knee length hemline. A little sweet, but still sexy. Now, pair it with a burst of slut on your feet, and all eyes will be on you.”

“I don't need all eyes, just Flor's.”

Addison shook her head at me and fluffed her head of pink curls. Yes, she was sporting a pink Afro and looked pretty awesome doing it.
That bitch.

“Just put the damn shoes on and let me touch up your makeup. Patrick's waiting in the car.”

I did as she asked. After all, our friendship had managed to survive and thrive while I dated Flor. I kind of owed her for that.

“God, Addi, your head looks like a fucking clit with all that pink. I liked it better blonde.”

Okay, so I owed her
big time
for that. Especially now that she had to live with him.

“Screw you, Florian,” she said, rolling her eyes as she sashayed out of the room in three inch purple heels. I stood stone still, nervous with anticipation as Flor moved toward me and wrapped his arms around my waist, leaning in close enough that I could feel his breath on my lips. My blue eyes found his green ones, searching his expression to see what he thought of my outfit. If the glint in his gaze meant anything, he approved.