Page 78 of Fight For Me

“She won’t come to the door if the lights are off. She’s paranoid about waking me up since it’s so hard to fall asleep.”

“Guess we should turn the lights off then, huh?”

“You’re not going back to your room?”

He begins to press kisses down the side of my neck. “Not unless you kick me out.”

I gasp as his tongue trails over my collarbone. “Definitely not kicking you out.”

He hums happily against my skin then sits up a little to give the dog a stern look. “Down, George.”

“Oh, you’re going to make him sad!” George snuggles a little closer to my side, like he’s hoping I’ll save him.

Wyatt rolls his eyes. “The dog is not staying in the bed when we’re in it together.” He snaps his fingers and George lets out a sad little huff before climbing off the bed.

“Poor Georgie,” I murmur as Wyatt turns off the bedside light, plunging the room into darkness except for the flickering light of the candles. I should get up to blow them out, but it’s impossible to move—or care too much about the dog—once Wyatt has his lips on my skin again, his hands tugging at the hem of my sleep shirt.

“Definitely, definitely not kicking you out,” I gasp as he slides the silky fabric up my thighs.

“Good,” he growls before locking me in a deep kiss. “And this time, Alex? I’m waking up next to you in the morning.”

And that’s exactly what he does.

Wyatt

“Admit it,” my dad says, jabbing his older brother in the ribs. “You’re impressed by all this.”

Reed scowls as he jabs him back, but his face softens as he turns his attention to the party around us. “Of course I’m impressed. This is pretty kick ass.”

“Our kids did good,” Daltrey agrees. He sounds far less begrudging than his older brother. In fact, his chest is all puffed up in pride as he looks around the crowded restaurant.

I’m standing with my dad and uncles at the grand opening celebration for FEA Threads shop. The night started over at the store, where a catering team served drinks and appetizers while a parade of reporters, social media influencers, fashion insiders, and minor celebrities—all recruited by the producers—toured the space and the cameras rolled. After a few hours of that, the party moved across the street to a trendy tapas restaurant. In addition to the fashion industry crowd, the whole family is here, even the kids.

When Alex told me Scott’s plan for the night—to record footage of the opening and the celebration—I’d been sure the parents were going to refuse to go anywhere near the cameras. To my great surprise, it took just a bit of convincing from Everly to get them to agree. Apparently, she really hit them hard on the whole “supporting our career” angle and they’d agreed to not only come, but also be interviewed on camera. Even more shockingly, they let the under-eighteen kids come too—though their waivers expressly forbid any interviews. The kids can be in included in the crowd shots, but nothing else.

Santana appears to be trying to do her best to skirt that line. She’s spent the whole evening strutting around in front of the cameras, trying to be included in as many shots as humanly possible. I’ve seen Aunt Paige talk to her twice already, but she keeps edging closer and closer to the camera guys. That girl is going to be trouble as she grows up. If Uncle Reed thought he had his hands full with Everly, I have a feeling Santana just might send him to an early grave.

“I still don’t like the look of that producer,” Reed growls, and I turn my gaze towards Scott, who’s introducing Alex, Everly, and Fox to a couple important looking guys in suits. He has a hand on the girls’ shoulders and it takes a lot of fucking effort to keep from going over there and planting myself between him and Alex.

“He’s an asshole,” I mutter without thinking, then regret it when Reed’s narrowed eyes land on me. “Nothing has happened,” I say quickly. “He’s just a smarmy douche. Full of himself.”

“I’m worried about this show,” Reed grumbles. “That fucker had better not present them in anything other than a glowing fucking light. If he edited things for more drama and makes them look bad, he’s going to have me to deal with.”

“Why don’t you try chilling out until you’ve at least seen the show,” Lennon says.

Later tonight, after the crowd clears out and the cameras turn off, the producers are going to screen a sneak peek of the first episode for the family to watch ahead of the official prime time premiere tomorrow. Commercials have been airing seemingly non-stop for the past week and Alex has been a ball of nerves. I’m not sure if she’s more nervous about the grand opening of the store or the prospect of seeing herself on television, but she’s barely slept at all—despite my best efforts to tire her out each night.

“You look pretty damn happy,” my dad says, and I jerk to attention, pissed at myself for going there when I’m standing with my uncles.

It’s hard not to, though. It’s hard to think about anything else besides how amazing the week since Miami has been. I’ve woken up nearly every morning with my face buried in Alex’s hair, her body pressed against mine. George usually sneaks up onto the bed sometime after we fall asleep—waking up next to him isn’t nearly as incredible as waking up next to Alex, but it’s still nice, the three of us cuddled in bed together.

God, I am so far gone. If my brother or uncles ever find out I’m this happy aboutcuddlingI’ll never live it down.

Especially because the cuddling is happening with Alex.

A familiar heaviness fills my gut. I’ve been doing my best not to think about what will happen if the family finds out. It’s easy enough to believe that Alex and I exist in our own little world when it’s just the two of us together. But it’s a hell of a lot more difficult to pretend when my entire family is invading our bubble.

“Wyatt?”