My mother and I head inside Faith and Maxwells’s beautiful house. There’s an immaculate spread on the kitchen island. This is far fancier than I was expecting for an autumn barbeque. Hanging around these people continues to put my diet in jeopardy.
A cheery voice comes up behind me and an arm loops around my shoulder. “Hello there,” Faith sings, wearing that huge grin of hers. “I’m so glad you and Jude could make it!”
I can’t help grinning back. “Thank you for inviting me. Jude’s outside somewhere.” I squeeze my mother’s shoulder. “I brought my mom, Lucille, with us. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course! Welcome!” And then my mother gets gobbled up by one of Faith’s monster hugs. “We always make too much food. You never know what you’ll get with a bunch of football players.”
Our gracious hostess introduces us to her sisters, who are cleaning and setting up more food around the kitchen. I meet Grace first, an adorable pixie version of Faith. By her reserved smile and quiet demeanor, I’m guessing she’s the shy one. I feel a strong sense of camaraderie over that. But when the last Monroe sister turns around with her outstretched hand, something in my belly drops.
“Hi, I’m Lily.” She grins but the smile quickly freezes on her lips.
We blink at each other. It’s almost like I’m staring at my own face in the mirror.
My mom gasps next to me. “Wow… You two look alike…”
Grace leans in. Her gaze volleys back and forth between her youngest sister and me. She gives us both a thorough top-to-bottom inspection.
Faith gives my mom a suspicious side-eye. “I’m about to say something really wild, so excuse me in advance…You wouldn't happen to know a very fertile man named Grant Monroe, would you?”
I look to my mom, utterly confused. “What? I don’t know any Grant Monr…Oh shit!”
My mother stands beside me, pale as a ghost. I grip her elbow, afraid that she’s about to faceplant into the Jell-O bowl.
“Mom? Mom, what’s going on?”
36
Jude
Damn, Kingston. I’m so pumped.”
“Can’t wait to see you back out on the field.”
“Next year is our fucking year, man.”
The guys have all congregated around the tree that I’m leaning against. I feel good. This feels good. Light. Happy.
The sun is shining, I’m surrounded by my teammates, and there’s a hot woman wandering around here with my teethmarks imprinted on her ass from last night.
So, yeah. I’m feeling pretty fucking great.
My legs are a bit tired, but I’m pushing through. I’m getting stronger every day even though my good leg is still doing twice the work.
“That your girl, Kingston? The one you walked in with?” One of the backup linebackers points the neck of his beer bottle in Iris’s direction.
“If not, I’m happy to give her a ride home,” one of the rookies dares to say. “Those tits are calling to me.”
Cora takes an eyeful of Lucille. “Hell, I’d give her mom a ride, if the young one belongs to you, Kingston. Have you seen the ass on that woman?!”
Christ, I nearly forgot how vulgar some of these kids are. They may be wearing men’s bodies, but they’re just clueless, little boys trapped inside.
I point at each of them in turn when I speak. “To answer your questions—yes, she’s my girl. No, you can’t give her a ride home and you’d better keep your eyes off her tits. And, Cora, I won’t even dignify your comment with a response.”
Laughter rises up in the crowd.
My eyes drift around the yard as the good-natured banter fills the air. I’ve missed this—the razzing, the teasing. But I miss Iris more. From where I’m standing, I seek her out. When I find her standing in the back doorway to Maxwell’s house, I zero in on her expression. I frown.
She’s surrounded by Faith and her sisters. Her shoulders are curled in and she’s as pale as a sheet. I think she might be shaking and I spot tears running down her cheeks.
What the fuck?
I slam my beer down on the nearest table. Then, I’m tearing across the yard to get to her. My heart slams against my chest, pounding double-time, as I weave through the crowd. I don’t know what happened, but I need to fix it.
When I finally get to her, I grab her by the shoulders and shift her so her bright eyes are on me. “Iris, what’s going on? What’s wrong?”
She blinks at me, her eyes dazed and unfocused. I don’t understand the look I see on her face and that scares me.
Her pretty lips tremble when she whispers, “These are my sisters.” She glances around at the trio of equally shook blondes staring at her. "These are my sisters."
37
Iris
My body is numb. My brain is a scratched disk on repeat, skipping back to the same thought every few seconds.
Sisters…Father…Family…
It’s like I grew up on one side of a coin. An only child, all alone. And today, I found out that—this whole time—there has been a whole different world on the other side of that coin. I feel lost with this new knowledge.
I was raised by my single mom, and it was just us and Penny. I have never had a father figure in my life. I would question my mom all the time when I was younger. Who’s my daddy? Where is he? Everyone has a father, right? How come mine isn’t here with us?
My mother would always tell me she didn’t know who my father was. And as I got older, I started believing her because in some ways, it made life easier. It didn’t seem so farfetched. My mom is gorgeous and the biggest flirt I know. It seemed incredibly plausible that she’d had a string of hookups in her younger days, and then couldn’t do her homework when it came to figuring out who had gotten her pregnant. It was easier thinking my father didn’t know about me than thinking he deliberately chose to abandon me.
Growing up, I always
