Chapter 17

Kelcey

Veronica was cute all sleep-rumpled in the morning. That was another thing that felt right to have back in my life.

“Kelce?” she said, coming bleary into the kitchen, where I had music playing and a pot on the stove. “When did you wake up?”

I laughed. “Vee, you woke up with me. You said good morning , and I said you can go back to sleep, and you said, no, I’m totally up… ”

“Ah.” She scratched her head, coming over to me with a playful gleam in her eyes. “Clearly, I was not.”

“Indeed. Good morning,” I said, and with that nervous, shy way she approached me like she wasn’t sure what was allowed, I helped her out by shifting to press my back up against her, taking her hands and wrapping her arms around my waist. “It was like half an hour ago… not much. I’m making breakfast. Because I wanna spoil you just a little bit and prove I’m not totally clueless.”

“Clueless? You’re an angel. What are you making?” She settled readily into it, resting her head on my shoulder, and I felt like my heart would burst. Was this… it? Were we doing this now? We hadn’t talked about it last night, hadn’t talked about what we were doing, what this meant for us. And from the way she talked about things, I assumed that she’d… have said yes. If I asked to just go ahead, do it all, be all the things we once were. I’d never in a million years have dreamed I’d give her another chance, but maybe that was a different Veronica.

“Boiled eggs and toast. Made just the way the lady likes.”

“You’re actually perfect… thanks, Kelce.”

“Cappuccino?”

“In one second… I’m enjoying this.” She squeezed me tighter into her, and I giggled with that nervous, bubbly sensation all through me.

I just adored this girl. Maybe it wasn’t too far-fetched to think she actually had changed, that she meant all those things she said about how she was wrong, how she was sorry, how she wanted to do better.

She looked at me with that soft, adoring gaze the whole time I finished putting breakfast together, even though she insisted on making our coffees, and I whipped out our book again after we’d finished eating and were working through our coffees, so we could enact the next part of our dramatic live reading as we finished our coffee. I shifted closer to Veronica’s side over the course of it, giggling at her delivery and slipping a hand to the small of her back, and when I found myself holding her hand and resting my head on her shoulder, nothing could have felt more right. Made it all too easy, once we finished the chapter and closed it together giggling at each other, to turn and cup my hand on her cheek and meet her in a kiss—long and slow and sweet, like a slow dance by moonlight, neither of us rushing to go anywhere.

“You do have a knack for that,” I said, once I pulled away a few inches. She smiled.

“Reading, or kissing?”

“Yes.” I kissed her again before I stood up, picking up the plate. “I’m cleaning up this time and you cannot stop me.”

“You’ve already been spoiling me this morning.”

“So why stop now?”

She laughed, standing up. “That’s a good argument. Thanks, Kelce.”

I was in the middle of cheerfully scrubbing dishes—and let it be said that Kelcey Huntington cheerfully scrubbing dishes was not the most common sight in the world—when a quick knock came from the door, and I glanced over to where Veronica made a face, dropping her laptop on the couch just as she’d picked it up.

“Not a spurned lover coming around for revenge, I hope,” I said, and she shrugged, heading for the door.

“Odds of that happening twice in the same holiday season are slim. I survived one Christmas tree.” She unlocked the door and pulled it open, and my stomach dropped at the sound of the woman’s voice immediately from the other side—Veronica’s mom Maria’s voice.

“Oh, Veronica, sweetheart, I’m so glad you’re okay. Is everything all right?”

“Mom?” Veronica moved to block the door, putting her foot behind it to stop it from opening wider. “What are you—what do you mean, okay? Did something happen?”

“Well—you didn’t come to the apple bake party!”

“Oh yeah… I forgot about the apple bake party. Mostly I don’t actually care about it much. Sorry, I’ll, uh, send a card or something—”

Veronica’s mother was a beast, because she pushed the door open anyway, sending Veronica stumbling, and didn’t even seem to recognize Veronica had been trying to close her out. She stepped inside, dressed in a loud Christmas sweater and her hair up in a knot, and she was halfway through saying something before her eyes caught on me standing there with a dish sponge in my hand. “You don’t need to send a card, don’t be silly, I just wanted to make sure—oh,” she said, stopping suddenly. “Oh, my god. Oh—Kelcey—I didn’t—”

“Mom, can you leave? ” Veronica said, her hands on her hips, and I cleared my throat, putting the sponge down by the sink.

“Um… hi, Mrs. Preston. Don’t worry about it, Veronica and I are, um—we’re just working on a project.”

Maria swept suddenly over to my side to give me a hug I was not physically prepared for. “Oh, darling, it’s so wonderful to see you,” she said. “Veronica was talking about how terribly she misses you and wishes she could have you back—”

“ Mom. ” Veronica fell backwards against the wall, groaning into her hands. I prickled with awareness.

I mean, I knew what the situation looked like… a domestic scene here with me wearing Veronica’s pajamas in the morning cleaning up from our breakfast. And it wasn’t incorrect. But it just—this wasn’t how I was planning on anything going. “Um… we were just working on a project,” I said, even though I felt bubbly deep down inside at the thought of Veronica talking to her mom about how she wanted…

Maria stepped back, squeezing my upper arms, beaming brilliantly at me. “Oh, I’m sure,” she said. “I’m sure your project is going wonderfully. Oh, Kelcey, we have all very much missed having you around… it’s wonderful to see you again. Are you coming with Veronica to the family gathering tonight?”

“Oh. Um.”

Veronica stepped up between us, smiling patronizingly at Maria. “Mom, are you sure you don’t want to keep the space for you and Dad and the Goulds?”

Maria went red-faced, scrunching up her face at her. “Veronica! You don’t need to make crude comments just because you don’t understand!”

“I understand very, very well.”

“What do we understand?” I said, and Veronica shrugged at me.

“Mom and Dad have started swinging with Matthew Gould and his wife—”

“ Veronica. Don’t say things like that to poor Kelcey.” Maria looked like she’d pass out. I beamed at her.

“I mean, if the four of you are happy, then that’s wonderful,” I said.

Maria put her nose up. “Really, I can’t believe we’re all here talking about this.”

“I’ll let you know how things are going with tonight and if I’m able to make it, Mom,” Veronica said, ushering Maria towards the door. “Now please give us some space. Bye-bye.”

“Oh—but—Kelcey,” Maria said, and I guess I was feeling like causing problems, because I beamed at her and said,

“I’d love to be there. I’ve missed your world-famous cinnamon rolls.”

Maria stopped, absolutely glowing at me. “Oh—Kelcey—you can come and have as many as you like. Finish the entire tray! You’re a part of the family and we love you. Anything you want us to have there? You don’t have any new dietary restrictions? No pet allergies? No—”

“Mom, go away,” Veronica said, ushering her again to the door. “It’s been lovely to see you! Sorry about the apple bake party, I’ll see you tonight!”

It took some work for Veronica to shut her outside, and she groaned, leaning against the counter next to me.

“Sorry,” she said, not quite looking at me. “You, uh, you can ignore her. You don’t have to attend anything with me. I can bring you a cinnamon roll, though. Or five of them.”

I shrugged, looking away. “Um… I think it’d be fun to go. Your family is full of interesting characters.”

She gave me a loaded look, thoughts balancing there on the edge of saying them, but in the end, she went with, “Like Miss Charlotte and the swingers, you mean.”

“Hey, love is love. If your parents have enough love for four people, then isn’t that beautiful?”

Veronica laughed. “Ah… I do love the way you look at things.”

“Miss Charlotte is, uh, a bit scary though, I’m not gonna lie.”

Veronica laughed. “Don’t worry. She’d be too distracted complaining about Anna. And about me.” She paused, her expression faltering. “Er… you’re sure, though? I mean…”

I didn’t exactly know how to say it—that after all those times of Veronica keeping me a dirty secret, I wanted to see how she’d be with me around everyone else. How she would be with me around her family. What they might say if I didn’t confirm or deny anything… the read the rest of her family had on her.

She was incredible, and like a hundred little dreams come true, everything I’d wished for back when Veronica and I were on-and-off, but I just—wanted to know for sure it was real. It was the only thing I could think of.

But I couldn’t really tell her that. Not without chickening out. So I made something up, and I said, “Anna and Lucy will probably both be there, and Matthew Gould will be there… so…” I shrugged. “I guess just—show them I can handle myself. That I’m a grownup who can be trusted.”

She stopped, studying me a while longer, before she melted into the sweetest smile, and she said, “I love getting to be privy to your clever strategies. In that case… let’s see if we can’t finish the main project body before the party. Just don’t let anyone know I’m the one behind the project, or it can get, uh, blurred at the edges.”

I frowned. “What, like, the video resolution goes down?”

“No—no, no. Uh—you know, conflicts of interest.”

“Ohh.” I nodded, and I mimed zipping my mouth shut. “Right. Well, I’ll tell them all about my contacts with the very talented Nic in outreach. And, um, Anna and Lucy won’t say anything. I hope.”

“They’re both mature and responsible and trying not to cause a scene. We’ll be fine. Well…” She stood up taller, pushing her hand in the pocket of her pajama pants, leaning casually against the table. “Shall we take some showers and then get to work?”

I tented my hands, smiling. “Um… two separate showers seems awfully wasteful.”

She pursed her lips. “My sister’s too into shower sex. I’d feel derivative.”

“Wait, Anna is?” I dropped my arms. “Oh my god, they didn’t tell me.”

“Were you expecting them to?”

“No… but I know they have a thing for getting busy in the executive office, so, like, I can’t believe they have even more things I don’t even know about. Yeesh.” I laughed. “Two separate showers then. I’ll wait for another time.”

Veronica glanced down over my body, and she didn’t say anything, clearly trying to be respectful again. I bit down on a smile, and I stepped closer, putting my hands on my hips.

“Or we could have dessert first,” I said, and she closed her eyes with a low sigh.

“God, I kept watching you lick crumbs off your fingers during breakfast and it was killing me…”

“Well, we can’t have you getting killed, now, can we?” I said, and she laughed as she let me walk her backwards until she fell onto the couch.

“If this was how I died, though, I’d take it.”

“I’d miss you if you did die, so I won’t fuck you to death this time.”

Felt like we got close, though, honestly—the way Veronica took me until it felt like she held every atom in my body on a string and I would come undone at the slightest bit of her will, like I was an elegant ribbon tied around a package and her touch undid the bow at the top and had me completely collapse, spooling soft and helpless under her touch.

She took a shower first once we were done, because even with the time to cuddle and laugh over nothing together, I needed three to five business days for my legs to work normally again. I kind of didn’t want my body to work normally again, though. Wanted to just go blissfully from one time to the next of Veronica lovingly, adoringly ravaging every part of my body.

And letting me ravage hers! We were all about equal opportunity, after all.

∞∞∞

Showing up to the Preston family house in separate cars at least let us maintain some semblance of plausible deniability, me showing up ten minutes after Veronica did, pulling into a crowded front courtyard where I could already hear the commotion and excitement from inside, Veronica’s grandmother’s Christmas music blaring loud enough to rattle my teeth out just like I remembered. The hottest Miami EDM nights couldn’t hold a candle to DJ Grandma. Luckily, I knew every single family member would take turns turning the volume down one or two percent at a time and fix the music over the course of the night.

Plausible deniability could only do so much, though, because I hadn’t even gotten up to the door before it swung open and Veronica’s dad leaned out, putting a hand up in a wave. “Kelcey Huntington, how you doing,” he called loud enough everyone in the neighborhood could hear. “Your girlfriend’s waiting for you inside.”

He was cheerful. He’d always been nice, if a bit… off in his own world, so I wasn’t really expecting him to be here zeroing in on, uh, things. I guess sleeping with his daughter’s client’s wife picked him up a little. Was that weird? Probably not.

“Hi, Mr. Preston,” I said, and he laughed, waving me off like we were old best friends.

“C’mon,” he chuckled. “Don’t be a stranger. You can just call me Heath. It’s a party, for god’s sake. Now, come on in and get nogged up.”

“Um… Veronica and I are both girls, we can’t really do that…”

But he ignored me, stepping back inside and gesturing me in with him, turning to where I spotted Matthew Gould’s moustache before anything else. “Matthew, fetch the eggnog, would you? We’ve got a desperate need of some holiday spirit.”

Oh, nogged up, not knocked up. I thought that was a weird thing to say to your daughter’s girlfriend. I was worried I’d just been misreading the situation.

Not that I was her girlfriend anyway. But that line was getting blurrier by the minute. I guess if I was trying to maintain plausible deniability, I shouldn’t have implied Veronica and I were having so much sex we’d get pregnant if one of us had the equipment…

He’d forget. Too distracted with his arrangement.

The party was absolutely in full swing, and I had a dozen people mob me basically as soon as I got in the door, one after the other, people gushing to me about how nice it was to see me again after so long and subtly talking about how happy Veronica was now. Very subtly.

Mostly, though, it was just… nice. Being around a whole bunch of people who were happy to see me just because I was me. Granted, it was also because they thought I was walking the aisle tomorrow with Veronica, but… well, they could think what they wanted. Either way, I walked into the sprawling space of the living room, and my eyes were drawn right away to Veronica, wearing that shimmery silver dress she’d been wearing the first time we met, and—given how thoroughly unromantic that night had been, starting off with PDA at a party and getting me off under a table and ending with her keeping my underwear when I went home afterwards, it was funny how breathtakingly romantic it felt. A new beginning. A chance for us to do it right this time.

I raised my hand with my heart pounding to say something, catch her attention, but another voice cut in with, “Oh, look at the way you look at her. Makes me sick. You’re a lovely young lady, you’re wasted on her.”

I turned with my hands on my hips to where Lucy’s grandmother Charlotte, a permanent fixture around all the Preston events, wheeled her way towards me with a scowl that seemed slightly tempered by the glass of eggnog. “Miss Charlotte,” I said. “Veronica is wonderful. She’s beautiful and perfect and, um… a great, uh, friend.”

“Pah. I hear you’re a good cook and everything. You don’t have to settle for Veronica.”

I scowled. “Is cooking your only metric?”

“Of course not. There’s also cleaning.”

Well, at least she wanted a woman to also have a subjugated housewife. Equal opportunity misogyny, I guess. “Well, Veronica and I are great friends, so I’m going to go and say hello to her, but, um… it’s nice to see you, Miss Charlotte!”

“Pah. It is not.” She knocked back eggnog like a hardened gangster taking a moody shot of whiskey in a mafia movie, and she wheeled away. The self-awareness was actually a little endearing in its way, I guess.

Either way, I felt Veronica’s eyes on me like the two of us were the only ones who existed, and when I looked back towards her, I met her gaze, deep brown eyes locking on mine and wiping out the rest of the room, not a person, not a sound…

Well, a little sound. That music was loud.

I glided towards her like we were in a dream, and I squeezed her hand before I could rethink it. “Hey, you,” I said, and she smiled wider.

“Miss Huntington,” she said. “A pleasure. You look enchanting tonight.”

“Uh, hello. Look who’s talking,” I laughed, gesturing to her dress and stunning heels, but I caught myself, standing up taller. “Or… we’re being polite, of course. Pardon me, for I forget my manners. You’re a sight to see, yourself, Miss Preston.”

She smiled wider. “You flatter me, darling. And tell me, did the crotchety old lady insult you just now?”

“Ah… indeed, she, uh, she totally did. Actually, she mostly just insulted you. Which is worse,” I said, dropping my posture. “I gave her a stern talking to and she said to go find someone who was worthy of my two good traits.”

“Cooking and cleaning?”

“It’s like you know her…”

She laughed. “She’s right that I’m a dirty rascal… attempting to court a princess, and that that’s quite a level of audacity. But I’ve always been audacious. So… your highness. Let’s go talk to Matthew Gould, because I’ve been telling him how you’ve been sharing your project progress with me and how well you’ve been doing, and he’s excited to see it for himself.”

She was so good to me. Too good to me, actually. I was deeply spoiled.

But… something to be said for the fact that she was doing this to help prove I was worthy of taking seriously and not to baby. And that maybe I’d change for the better from being around her, too.

I knew things that seemed too good to be true usually were. But maybe this one wasn’t? Maybe?

I’d always been na?vely optimistic, after all.