Chapter 24

TWENTY-FOUR

Canyon

The next couple of weeks are a struggle.

A struggle to keep up with everything Ally needs.

A struggle to spend time with Saylor.

A huge struggle to focus on hockey.

I'm drowning in stress, and I don't have time for either of the two things that normally help: sex and partying with my friends.

Instead of things getting easier, they seem to be getting harder, and no matter what I do, Ally is pissed off.

We started therapy last week and she sat there sullenly, refusing to talk, merely saying there's nothing wrong with her and she doesn't need a shrink. There's no doubt in my mind she heard that from her mother at some point, and for the first time since her death, I'm furious with Carly.

What the hell has she been doing all these years?

Yes, she'd developed a drug problem, but why hadn't she reached out for help? Did she really believe that living with her broke, drug-addicted mother was the best choice for Ally?

I really wish my mother was still alive.

"Can we stop at Ulta?" Ally asks on the way home from school. "There's a new gloss I want that's supposed to be really good for your lips. And there's barely any color, it's super light."

So far, I haven't told her no for anything she's asked for, but the therapist said I need to set boundaries.

"I think we should discuss an allowance," I say. "I'll buy food, school supplies, and all the basics, but for these kinds of extras, you'll have to learn to budget."

"How much of an allowance?"

"I don't know. What do you think is fair? Fifty dollars a week?"

She scowls. "I want a new hair straightener too. And it's like eighty."

"Then I guess you'll have to save up."

She slinks down in the seat with a huff.

I don't know if I'm doing the right thing, but I can't let her think I'm an endless money supply. I have plenty, but there has to be a limit, right? Is it too soon to impose limits? Should I be more generous while she's grieving and adjusting to a slew of new conditions in her life? She's still so angry. I don't want to add more stress to her life, but I also can't let her think I won't ever say no.

We stop at the store she wants to go to, and I follow her around as she looks at what has to be every lip gloss ever made, carefully reading ingredients and whatever else she needs to know before finally deciding on the one she originally wanted. Then we head over to the tools, and she looks at blow dryers, curling irons, and things I don't even recognize.

"Ohhh." Her eyes get big. "This is the mack daddy of blow dryers."

It better be for three hundred and fifty dollars.

How does a blow dryer cost that much?

"Does it wash and style it for you too?" I ask dryly.

She rolls her eyes. "Don't be a dork. It keeps your hair from frizzing…" She goes into intricate detail how an ionic something or other helps with frizz and a bunch of other stuff I don't care about.

But she cares.

And she's excited.

Something that hasn't happened since she moved in with me.

We're definitely not getting something that expensive today, but maybe for her birthday, which is coming up. I surreptitiously take a picture of it, so I don't forget which one it is as she picks up a flat iron that's on sale for sixty-nine dollars. I see her mentally calculating how long it'll be before she has enough money. Probably because it's only on sale this week. Two weeks from now, it goes back to ninety-nine dollars.

Fuck.

I'm going to buy it for her because… she just lost her mom.

Because I can afford it.

Because I fucking want her to like me.

"Let's get that too," I say, picking a box up off the shelf. "But we need to get going."

"Really?" Her eyes light up. "Thank you!"

She practically dances to the checkout counter and clutches the bag tightly against her chest as we're leaving.

"Look! Kittens." There's a pet store next door and they have some kind of adoption event going on.

"We're not getting a cat," I say, following her impatiently.

"Oh, look at how beautiful he is!" she says, pointing to what appears to be an orange Tabby with blue eyes.

The kitten seems fascinated with Ally, slowly sniffing her fingers through the bars of the cage she's in.

"You want to hold her?" someone who works there asks.

"No," I say.

"Yes!" Ally squeals at the same time.

Fuck me.

"Ally…" I try again.

"He's so cute!" Ally gushes.

"She," the employee corrects with a smile, putting the kitten in Ally's arms.

Ally's eyes fill with tears. "Please, Uncle Canyon? Pretty please? You don't have to give me an allowance. We can return the lip gloss and?—"

"Stop," I mutter, shaking my head as I reach out to gently scratch behind the cat's ears. She purrs against me and I'm pretty sure I'm fucked.

"She's so sweet," Ally continues, hugging the kitten against her chest. "I'll do whatever you say if you let me have her. Please please please?"

Fuck fuck fuck.

"You have to clean her litter box every day," I say firmly. "I'm not going to do it, and neither is Rena." My housekeeper is going to have a heart attack. We'd agreed no pets when I hired her, so I'm going to have some explaining to do.

"I will. Promise."

"And you have to keep your grades up."

"I will!"

Mother. Fucker.

We're getting a cat.

Because I need even more stress in my life.

* * *

We're supposed to be meeting Saylor for dinner, but I invite her over to the condo instead because there's no way I'm leaving a new kitten alone in the house while we go out. I don't know what we'll do tomorrow when Ally's at school and I have to be at a morning skate. They said she was already using a litter box, but so far she hasn't.

"Oh, she's beautiful," Saylor gushes when she arrives. "What's her name?"

"Luna," Ally announces, which is news to me. Last I heard, she didn't have a name.

"She looks like a Luna. That's a great name."

Ally picks Luna up and hugs her. "They wouldn't let us have pets at our last apartment," she says. "So we couldn't get one."

"Your first pet. What an important milestone."

"Mom would have gotten me one if they would've let us," she says defiantly.

"Okay, so pizza, Chinese, or Italian?" I ask, interrupting them.

"Chinese," Saylor says.

"Pizza," Ally says at the same time.

"I feel like Italian," I mutter, knowing I'm going to lose.

"Can we get Italian that has a pizza option?" Ally asks.

"Sure." I glance at Saylor, who nods.

"Absolutely."

"You have homework," I say to Ally. "So get started. Grades were part of the deal."

She looks like she wants to protest but nods instead. "Fine." She flounces down the hall to her room and I immediately pull Saylor close, kissing her.

"Hi," she whispers against my mouth.

"Hi. You taste good." I lightly cup her ass.

"New lip gloss."

"I approve."

Our mouths move together, and she slides her tongue against mine.

Fuck, this is so frustrating. I want to be alone with her, take her to bed and then curl up on the couch with dinner.

My cock is straining against my jeans when I hear a snort.

"Ew. Get a room." Ally's voice breaks us apart and I manage to tamp down my annoyance.

"Sorry. What's up?"

"I need help with my history homework. I have to write a report on the Egyptians and make a presentation with illustrations and/or props."

Fuck.

I have no idea how to help with that, but I can't admit that.

"Go get your laptop and bring it out here," I tell her.

"Can't you come in my room?"

"No, I can't. We have company and even if we didn't, why would we sit in your room when we have the whole dining room table to spread out?"

She huffs away and Saylor giggles into her hand.

"What's funny?"

"Did you have cockblocking Egyptian-themed dioramas on your bingo card?"

I snort. "I did not."

"It'll be fine. I can help with anything artistic."

"I so appreciate that."

By the time Ally comes back with her laptop and bookbag, my erection is mostly gone, and Saylor is puttering around in the kitchen.

"Does she have to be here?" Ally mutters, glancing in Saylor's direction.

"She's my girlfriend, so yes, she does."

"Is she sleeping over?"

I hesitate.

We hadn't talked about that yet and I don't know the answer.

"Not tonight," I say finally. "Not that it's any of your business."

"Whatever." She opens the laptop that's supplied by the school—for forty grand a year it's the least they can do—and shows me the assignment.

This is complicated shit for an eleven-year-old, and I'm hopeful the new nanny is better at this than I am. I haven't hired anyone yet, but I've done a handful of interviews and there are two possibilities.

"So… a minimum of four typed pages," I read. "A bibliography, at least two diagrams, and props for a five-minute presentation. That doesn't sound so bad."

"I hate standing up in front of the class," she says. "It's embarrassing."

"I didn't love it either," I say, "but we'll practice until you're comfortable. When is the presentation?"

"Next Wednesday."

"Okay, then let's get to work."

"I can help you with the illustrations. Maybe I can draw something for you and then you'll have something no one else has."

"I guess." Ally shrugs. "But what would you draw?"

"What is your report going to be about?"

"Either Nefertiti or Tutankhamun's wife, Ankhesenamun."

"Nefertiti was fascinating," Saylor says. "I studied her in college."

"You went to college?"

"I did. I didn't graduate, but I went."

"Why didn't you graduate?"

"My modeling career took off, and I couldn't do both. I'd still like to go back and finish my degree."

"People as old as you go to college?" Ally asks.

Saylor just smiles. "They do. And we usually enjoy it more than we did when we were teenagers."

That seems to shut Ally up, and she starts pulling books out of her backpack.

Luna comes into the room and jumps into Saylor's arms.

"Hey, come to me." Ally immediately snatches her away and I bite back a sharp retort.

She's just a sad, scared little girl.

We have to give her some grace.

Even though I want to strangle her half the time.

"It's okay," Saylor mouths when I glance at her.

It's going to be a long night.