"Ellison," Finley began, "you won't call us. Half the time we're asking each other if anyone has heard from you or if you're even alive. If you won't answer or return my calls, you force my hand! I won't apologize for loving you!"
I sighed, holding my hand to my face. "You're right. I haven't called. You still don't get to send your goon to stalk me. Do you have any idea how humiliating this is? Tyler's entire family is witnessing this!"
Abby touched my shoulder. "This isn't the worst thing they've seen. Don't be embarrassed."
Finley sniffed.
"Damn it, Fin, don't cry."
"I miss you. You're my best friend. I feel like I don't even know you anymore."
"She's crying?" Marco said, horror in his eyes.
"Tell Marco to come home. I'll check in at least once a week, I promise. I just ... I'm not one hundred percent yet. I've relapsed."
"Ellie ... we can help you with that. We want to help. There are amazing places you can go. Just say the word..."
"I can do it on my own."
"Maybe you can ... but why, if you don't have to?"
I mulled over her suggestion, wanting it as much for me as I did for the people who loved me. I glanced back at the Maddox house. "I'll think about it."
"Happy Thanksgiving, baby sister. We miss you. We wish you were here ... even Mom."
I choked out a laugh. "Send home your slave."
Marco held up his hands. "She pays me very well, Miss Edson, and I love so much what I do."
I rolled my eyes. "Send him home. I'm sure he misses you."
"Okay," she said. "I love you."
I hung up the phone, shut Marco's door, and made sure his phone rang before tucking my own phone in my back pocket. Abby hooked her arm in mine as we walked across the street.
"Edson, huh? Like Edson Tech?"
"Yeah," I said, cringing and squinting in the afternoon sun.
"Relapse?"
I sighed. No point in denying it any longer. "I'm a drunk, Abby. My parents invoked the last resort of tough love. I was pretty out of control."
"My mom's a drunk, too. I remember when she tried so hard not to be."
"She couldn't kick it?"
"Not alone, and she's too proud to ask for help."
I looked down at the ground, kicking at the uneven sidewalk with my boots. "I don't deserve Fin's help. I don't deserve anyone's help."
"Did Tyler tell you about Travis and me?"
"Not a lot."
She tucked her hair behind her ear, glancing back at the house. "I was sure he was wrong for me. My family was worse than dysfunctional. My father nearly got me killed. I pushed Travis away, thinking he was bad for me, and then I pushed him away again, thinking I was bad for him. Turns out, when I finally let him in, all the bullshit fell away, and we could just be good together."
"I've known all along I was bad for Tyler. He won't listen."
"When a Maddox boy falls in love, he loves forever..." Abby mused.
"What?"
"If he's in love with you--and just the fact that you're here tells me he is--he's not going to give up on you. I can see that you care about him."
I nodded. "He's a good friend."
She narrowed her eyes. Her radar was going off. "Right."
"I do," I blurted out. "I care about him. I might even ... I feel guilty that I can't seem to let him in or let him go. Either way feels wrong."
"I know exactly how you feel," Abby said without hesitation. "But your sister is right. You don't love yourself right now. That's why you can't get things right with Tyler. That's why you don't want to."
I breathed out a frustrated laugh. "I need a drink."
"I'll make you one. But if I were you, I'd take all the help I could get if it meant happiness was on the other side. And believe me ... these boys ... when they're happy? It's like living in a fairy tale. They don't know how to half-ass anything, and loving someone is no exception."
The brothers stepped out onto the porch with Camille just as Marco pulled away from the curb. Tyler descended the steps and crossed the yard, hooking his arm around my shoulder. "You okay?"
I nodded.
"Finley?" he asked.
"We're good. I haven't called. They were worried about me."
He kissed my temple. "C'mon. You're freezing."
Tyler guided me inside with Abby trailing behind. Travis instantly hugged her and rubbed his hands along her upper arms. Then he cupped her hands and blew on them. They stared into each other's eyes like they were privy to a secret. Suddenly, gross didn't seem so bad.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Tyler helped me with my coat, and then we settled in to watch documentaries on Netflix--Jim's favorite pastime, apparently.
Tyler and I sat on the sofa next to Travis and Abby. Trent and Camille made a pallet on the floor and whispered while he drew on the palm of her hand with a Sharpie. Jim was sitting in his recliner, his eyes getting heavier by the minute.
I leaned in to Tyler's ear. "Where's Taylor?"
"On his way. He had to take care of some things, first."
I nodded. "And the oldest? Is it Thomas?"
"Yeah, he was invited to his boss's house this year. Couldn't say no."
I nodded again. Tyler relaxed back against the worn sofa cushion, resting his hand on my knee. No one bugged us about our ambiguous friendship like I worried they would. We all just sat around, spending time together in what seemed to be an uncharacteristically peaceful Maddox moment.
Just as the credits of our second documentary of the night began to roll, the front door swung open, and Taylor dropped his duffel bag.
"Wake up, dick heads! I'm home!"
Trent and Travis jumped up and immediately tackled their brother, all three of them falling outside onto the porch with a thud. After a few seconds of scuffle, Tyler sighed.
"I'll be right back."
He rushed over to aid his twin, and I winced a few times when I saw the grappling escalate.
With some effort, Jim pushed himself up from the chair, making his way to the door. "All right, all right! That's enough!" He used his foot to poke at the writhing pile of Maddox boys, and then Travis finally broke out of the dog pile and began separating the others.
Abby shook her head, unfazed. Camille watched from the floor, not the least bit worried.
The boys walked in, breathing hard and chuckling, red blotches on their faces and arms. Trent used the back of his hand to dab his bleeding bottom lip, and Travis pointed at him and laughed.
"Don't grab my nuts next time, dick licker," Tyler said.
Camille went to the refrigerator and returned, giggling as she held a small ice pack covered in a dishtowel to Trent's lip.
"God almighty," Jim said, returning to his chair.
Travis didn't seem to have a scratch on him, but Tyler limped to the sofa.
"Whoa," I whispered.
Abby patted my knee. "Might as well get used to it. It's a regularly occurring thing."
"You okay?" I asked.
Tyler tugged at the crotch of my jeans. "That fuck knuckle tried to rip off my balls."
Trent cocked his head. "Nice. I like that one."
"It's Australian," Tyler said.
"Cool," Trent said, nodding.
"It means Trenton," Tyler added.
Trenton frowned while everyone else laughed--even Camille and Jim. He reached for Taylor's duffel and tossed it to him. Taylor jogged over to his dad, leaned down to kiss the top of his head, and then made his way up the stairs.
"You boys are going to give me a heart attack," Jim said.
"No, you eating a pound of bacon every morning is going to give you a heart attack," Trent said.
"He's a Maddox," Travis said. "He's invincible."
Someone knocked on the door, and then it opened, revealing one younger couple and one older. The older gentleman looked very similar to Jim.
All but Tyler and Jim stood again, including Abby. She threw her arms around a s
tunning, long-legged blonde, and they chatted non-stop for a solid two minutes.
Tyler pointed. "That's America. She's Abby's best friend and Shepley's girlfriend. Shepley is our cousin. His dad, Jack, is my dad's brother, and his mom, Deana, is our mom's sister."
I turned to look at him. "I don't follow."
He grinned, expecting my reaction. "Shepley is our double cousin. Both sets of parents are siblings. Dad and Jack. Mom and Deana."
"So, Jack and Jim ... Deana and...?"
"Diane," Tyler said with reverence.
I glanced at Deana, wondering how much she looked like Diane, and if that was hard for Jim and the boys. He seemed to be happy they were there.
"What is with the names?" I asked.
"I dunno," Tyler said. "I guess it's a Midwestern thing? My parents were named with the same first initial, so Mom did it with us, too."
Taylor tromped back down the stairs and fell in between Tyler and me. Tyler elbowed his twin--hard--and Taylor yelped. "Fucking Christ!" Taylor yelled.
"Goddamn it! Language!" Jim said.
Jack helped Deana with her coat, and she kissed him on the cheek before he left her to hang it in the closet. Trenton fetched chairs from the dining room with Shepley's help.
The second Shepley sat down his cousins began harping on him.
"No ring on Mare's finger yet, Shep? Don't you love her anymore?" Taylor asked.
"Shut up, dick. Where's your date?" Shepley snapped back.
"Right here," Taylor said, hooking his arm around me. He kissed my cheek, prompting Tyler to yank him to the floor.
Jim shook his head.
"America can only plan one wedding at a time," Deana teased, winking at Abby.
Taylor rubbed his elbow. "Have you met Ellie? Her dad is Philip Edson. Edson Tech."
"Whoa," America said. "So you're like ... a billionaire?" She grabbed Shepley's arm. "She's an heiress! I think I've seen you in People magazine!"
"That would be my sister, Finley. My dad is the billionaire. I'm quite broke, I assure you," I said.
"Oh," America said, looking sheepish.
"Ellie is the photographer for The MountainEar," Tyler said.
Taylor piped in. "She takes action shots. Her stuff has been featured in five issues of the magazine over the summer."
"Impressive," Deana said with a sweet smile. "Sounds like you're making it on your own just fine. I'll have to look up that magazine for your work."
Suddenly, Taylor and Tyler were nervous.
"It's not online. I'll see if I can send you some copies," I said.
Deana nodded, appeased for the moment. Of course I couldn't send her anything, not with Taylor and Tyler's dirty faces plastered all over the feature, digging and setting back burns with drip torches.
The twins seemed to relax, listening to the family catch up. Shepley's parents would celebrate with Deana's family this year, and they were going to miss Abby's pies. In the middle of their visit, Thomas called, and the phone was passed around while insults were made as greetings and instead of terms of endearment.
Jim and Jack yawned at the same time, and Deana stood. "Okay, we've got an early morning and a long drive. Let's head home, my love."
Jack stood. "How do I argue with that?" He kissed his wife, and Shepley and America stood as well. They hugged me and everyone else, waving as, one by one, they stepped out onto the porch and made their way to Jack's car.
Travis and Abby stood at the window with their arms around each other, watching them leave.
Jim stood. "All right. I'll see you kids in the morning."
The boys stood and hugged their father. Trenton was in the kitchen and back with a glass of ice water before Jim had even made it to the hall.
"Thank you, son," he said, taking a sip on his way to his bedroom.
"Kiss ass," Taylor hissed.
"I just know what he likes since ... you know ... I'm here to take care of him."
They all groaned. "Too real, Trent," Tyler said. "Let's leave that shit for another holiday."
Trenton lifted his middle finger, gathering his and Camille's things. "See you tomorrow, ass hats."
"Goodnight, Trent," Abby said.
Tyler stood and held out his hand. "I think I'll head upstairs. You coming?"
I nodded, standing and stretching. I glanced at the fridge, and Abby nodded just enough for me to notice.
"I could use a beer," she said. "Want one?"
"Yeah, I'll take one before I head up," I said.
Abby strolled across the room and opened the refrigerator door, pulling out two bottles and popping the tops with her hand and the counter. I took one from her as I passed, and she winked. Tyler winked back.
Neither one of them was trying to enable me as much as they were trying to get me through the visit without outing my addiction. Something only the children of an alcoholic could understand.
Tyler led me up the stairs by the hand, and then down the hall to his bedroom.
"Where will Taylor sleep?" I asked.
"The couch," he answered.
I tipped the bottle in my hand. "Abby doesn't miss anything, does she?"
"Nope. She's definitely the matriarch of the family, and once you're in, she has your back."
"She's keeping your secret, too," I said.
Tyler reached back with one arm and pulled his T-shirt over his head. My eyes scanned the rise and fall of each muscle in his torso. He was already gaining back the weight he'd lost hiking countless miles in the mountains over the summer, looking like his old self and filling out nicely.
"What do you mean?" he asked, tossing me his shirt.
"She knows you're not in insurance. You basically outed yourself when you told her about my feature."
"Nah," he said, unbuttoning his jeans.
I set down my beer and undressed, slipping his shirt quickly over my head. By the time Tyler had stripped down to his boxer briefs, he looked at me with a half-smile.
"I was hoping you'd do that."
"Well, I knew you didn't give it to me to wash."
He laughed once, but his smile quickly faded. "What did you and Abby talk about outside?"
I shrugged, fidgeting with the bottom hem of Tyler's shirt. "She knows." I picked up the beer and took a big swing. "That's why she made sure I had this. She told me to take Finley up on her offer."
"Which is what?" he asked.
"Help. As in..." I trailed off, feeling my cheeks flush crimson. "I'm a functioning alcoholic, and my family wants to send me to a rehabilitation center."
"What do you think about that?" he asked, zero judgment in his eyes.
"I think I want to be happy. I think there are a lot of things I want, but I'm afraid to say it out loud in case I screw it up."
His eyebrows pulled together, hope and desperation weighing down his expression. "Say it, anyway."
I swallowed, nervous. "I want to be gross with you."
He laughed once, taking a step and gently pulling me against his chest. He didn't speak for the longest time, but held me in his arms, touching his cheek to my hair. "Can't you just say it? Just once?"
I looked up at him, thinking about the way the words would feel on my lips, and what it would do to me if I said them. I wasn't brave enough for two huge confessions in one day. I lifted up on the balls of my feet, touching my lips to his.
Tyler stood still, letting me kiss him but nothing more. I reached for his hands and guided them up under my shirt until his warm palms were cupping my breasts. His thumb grazed my nipple, and I closed my eyes, letting out a soft sigh.
"I know what you're doing," he whispered.
"So?" I said, kissing his neck.
He leaned down, running his tongue from the tender skin behind my ear to the collar of my shirt, then planting tiny kisses all the way up. His hands slid to my back, and he pulled me closer, lifting the shirt so our stomachs touched.
His fingertips ran along my spine, then down to my ass, pulling me closer to him
with a gentle squeeze. "Say it, Ellie. I know you do."
I kneeled down in front of him, and he blew out a flustered breath, perching his hands on his hips. He was instantly hard, stretching from the confines of his boxer briefs. I gripped the elastic waistband and tugged, wet my palm with my tongue, and then reached for him. He groaned as I began from the bottom and licked my way to the base of his shaft.
He involuntarily arched his back and leaned his pelvis forward. My tongue slid, smooth but firm, all the way to his tip, and then I took him into my mouth, humming when I felt his tip graze the back of my throat.
I cupped the base with my right hand, and as I leaned back, I followed with my fingers.
"Fuck," Tyler said, dragging out the word.
I smiled, leaning down again, taking all of him into my mouth, gagging a bit when his hand cupped the back of my head to press himself deeper. I lightly scraped his skin with my teeth as I came up, relishing the low, guttural sounds he was involuntarily making.
Before I could really get started, he pulled away, sitting on the bed. He shook his head. "You sure know how to change the subject. But I'm not letting you do it this time."
I took the few steps to stand in front of him, tucking my thumb under the waistband of my underwear, pushing them down and grinning when they gently landed on the floor.
Tyler didn't move, so I reached for his hand, sliding his fingers between my skin. As I moved his fingers in circles, I leaned my head back and moaned. His fingertips slid more easily the wetter I became, and I could tell his resolve was weakening.
I inserted two of his fingers and two of mine, moaning loudly. He grabbed my ass, and in one motion, turned us and fell on top of me in his childhood bed.
"Say it," he said, his tip grazing my tender skin.
I looked away from his intense gaze and closed my eyes, my body begging for him to be inside me. "Fuck me," I said, returning my eyes to his. I reached around, pressing his backside toward me, but he resisted.
"Do you care about me at all?" he asked. "Do you hate me? Is it lukewarm feelings, or we're really just friends? Whatever it is, Ellie, fucking say it."
"Why can't we just do this?" I said, lifting my hips.
He reacted, pulling away. He grazed my jaw line with his lips. "I'll make you come all night," he whispered into my ear. "I just need a little honesty."
"I love you," I breathed. Before I could finish my sentence, he was sliding inside me and moaning at the same time. I bit his shoulder, trying to muffle my cry as he rocked into me.