The Langfield Brothers: Box Set

19. Millie

NINETEEN

MILLIE

August

The next few months are a blur of red-eyes and late-night FaceTime calls. When Gavin doesn’t have a game or an event to attend with the team or the Langfields, he flies to Paris. The first time he visited again, he begged me to let him move me into a nicer place. With security and an actual bedroom. But I like my place, and there’s no way in hell I’ll let him pay for my apartment. He growled, so I gave him a blow job. That stopped the conversation. Until the next time he visited and tried again.

We haven’t had that argument yet tonight, though our current situation is much, much worse.

Coach: Get him out of here.

I clench my phone in my hand and eye my father, then glance at the closed bathroom door.

Currently, Gavin is hiding in the shower.

Thank god it’s got a curtain rather than a glass door. Even if the tiny space and lack of luxuries is one of the many reasons Gavin lists when urging me to move to a nicer apartment.

The man is bougie, and that’s saying something coming from me.

“This is the best surprise,” I say, plastering a smile to my face. “I should shower before we go to dinner. Why don’t you head to the hotel? I’ll meet you there for a drink before dinner. Sound good?”

My dad shrugs. “Nah. I’m happy to hang here until you’re ready. I’d rather not have you wandering this area alone.”

I cough out a laugh and have to choke back the impulse to say “ okay Dad ,” like I do when Gavin makes the same kind of comments. That kind of response would be a little too on the nose, since this man is actually my father.

“Daddy, I walk everywhere alone every day. I’ll be fine.”

He grumbles and crosses his arms. “I don’t know why you won’t let me help you get a nicer place.”

“I like this place. My favorite café is on the corner, and the wine bar Sienna and I love is only a few blocks away. And the weatherman who hangs out at the bottom of the stairs lets me know if it’s going to rain every day so long as I give him a euro or two.”

Dad drops his arms to his sides and groans. “He’s homeless, Millie. Not a weatherman. We sheltered you too much.”

Of course he’s not a weatherman, but it’s fun to push Dad’s buttons. “Aw, don’t say that around Pierre. He only smells that way because the French don’t shower as much as we do in the US.”

“Millie.” The vein in my dad’s temple is now pulsing. Oops. Maybe I’ve pushed him a little too far.

My phone buzzes in my hand, distracting me from the conversation.

Coach: Have you lost your goddamn mind? Stop teasing your father and get him out of here.

I snort and pocket my phone again. “I’m just teasing. Seriously, I’ll be fine.”

He shakes his head and settles himself in a chair at my tiny table. “Just go get ready. Pretend I’m not here.”

Dammit. With a defeated sigh, I grab an outfit from the world’s tiniest closet and head for the bathroom. Once the door is locked behind me, I pull open the curtain and am met with the most gorgeous angry face I’ve ever seen and an equally gorgeous naked body.

“What part of get him out of here did you not understand?” Gavin hisses, his fists clenched against his bare thighs.

When my dad knocked and called out from the other side of my door, Gavin had my hair wrapped around his fist while he was fucking me from behind. Panicked, I shoved him into the bathroom. It wasn’t until I was scrambling to pull my clothes back on that I realized his were scattered across my floor. Heart pounding right out of my chest, all I could think was to toss them onto my messy bed and throw a blanket over them. So yeah, my dad is hanging in my sex bedroom right now. Getting him out of here ASAP is all I can do at the moment.

I turn on the water, and Gavin hisses again as the freezing spray hits him.

I can’t hold back my giggle. “You’re lucky my phone is on the sink, or we’d really have a problem,” he says as he pulls me beneath the cold water, clothes and all.

“Ass.”

With a sigh, he pulls out of the spray and holds me, waiting for it to warm up. “I’ll text him.”

“My father?” I ask as I pull my soaked shirt over my head.

“Yes. And then I’ll text Sienna. I’ll tell her I’m in town and I want to have dinner.” Gavin gets a faraway look, as if he’s thinking.

“Won’t that be weird? Your sister, my father, and us?”

He sighs. “It’s the only way I can spend the evening with you. Got a better idea?”

“I don’t know,” I panic. “I’ll call Gabe too.”

“Oh great, your best friend who never stops talking.”

That comment breaks through my spiraling, and I can’t help but smile. Outside of Sienna, Gabe is my only real friend. But Gavin’s right. He never shuts up.

“I’ll make it up to you,” I offer, sliding my hands down my boyfriend’s abs until I’m cupping his balls and squeezing lightly just the way he likes it.

“Millie Rosemarie Hall, don’t you fucking dare.” Gavin’s voice is like ice.

“Oh,” I purr. “Bringing out the full name. I wonder what you’ll do when I put your cock in my mouth.”

“Your father is on the other side of the door.”

“Hmm.” I tilt my head and give him an impish grin. “Looks like you have two options. Either fuck me—though we both know I’m not quiet—or let me suck your cock.”

“Millie.”

I drop to my knees, the warm water hitting my back, and look up at Gavin. Already, I can tell he’s losing the fight. His brown eyes are hooded as he looms over me, water running over his shoulders and dripping down his black lashes.

“You’re going to get us both in so much trouble, Peaches.”

“What are the odds that we’d both end up in Paris?” my father says to Gavin for the second time tonight.

Gavin nods and runs a hand down the front of his shirt, smoothing the fabric. “Should have coordinated better, minimized our carbon footprint.”

Sienna snorts. “Since when do either of you care about that?”

Whiskey in hand, Dad shakes his head.

Gavin laughs a little defensively. “I do care.”

“Right.” Sienna hums. “Tell me again, dear brother. Why are you here?” She eyes him over the rim of her martini glass, one brow raised in suspicion.

She and Cat, the owner of Jolie who originally hired me, both insist I drink dirty martinis along with them, but I still prefer my peach margaritas. I’m not sure what they like about the drink. Tastes like dirty water to me.

With a shrug, Gavin settles back in his chair and sips from his own whiskey glass.

Nerves skitter through me and, eager to find a safer topic, I look at Gabe. For a guy who never shuts up, he’s being ridiculously mute tonight.

“Gabe, didn’t you want to tell Sienna about the new color you saw Hermes using?”

Gabe has an elbow planted on the table and his chin in his hand, watching Gavin. “We shouldn’t talk about work, Millie.”

Ass. He’s loving watching me squirm. I kick him beneath the table and shoot him a look when he finally glares at me.

Sienna hums. “Yeah, we can talk about that tomorrow. Tell me, Gav, what are you doing here?”

“Can’t a guy come visit his sister?”

“Considering you visited me just last month, I’m surprised.” Her gaze turns to me. “Does your brother visit you that much, Millie?”

I shrug. “Um, sure. Maybe.”

My father laughs. “Has your brother been here once?”

“Yeah, of course,” I say. Once. Last summer. But who’s counting?

The pianist returns from his break and launches right into a song. I try to relax and enjoy it, but I can’t quite get comfortable.

While sneaking around has been exciting, and I enjoyed our little shower game, this is not fun. I don’t actually want to get caught. Especially like this. I’m not sure when I’ll be ready to tell my dad about Gavin, but it isn’t tonight. Dinner went smoothly, but now that we’ve each had a couple of drinks, looser lips are making everyone more daring. What exactly does Sienna know?

“You going to sing for us?” Gabe asks, probably thinking he’s being helpful by diverting the focus of our conversation. Of course, when he finally decides to step up, he makes everything so much worse. Because if I have another secret as big as my relationship with Gavin, it’s my singing.

“Oh, Millie girl doesn’t sing anymore,” my dad says when I don’t respond. “Though you did have a beautiful voice when you were a kid.” He smiles at me, his eyes going soft. “I used to love when you’d play the piano and make up songs. Not so sure her brothers loved it, though,” he adds.

Gavin frowns, sitting forward again. “You don’t sing anymore?”

I sigh. “Here and there I do, I guess.”

Gabe laughs. “If ‘here and there’ means every night we’re not working late.”

Sienna raises her brows. “Really? You been hiding a talent from us?”

More like hiding the real me from everyone except Gavin and possibly Gabe.

My father watches me with his eyes narrowed, as if he’s finally putting the pieces together. That’s the last thing I want. I’m not interested in having a heart-to-heart over what I’m doing with my life. I just want to get through this awkward night, go back to my apartment, and curl up with Gavin. He’s my safe place. Everything else just feels daunting.

“It’s nothing, really.”

Gavin’s brow furrows deeper, and he frowns. His scrutiny makes the back of my neck heat. His brain is working, putting together just how much I’m hiding from my father. I can already hear the comments he’ll make later.

“You never talked to your father, did you? You’re using our relationship as a Band-Aid. You’re not really okay.”

Desperate to break the tension, though I’ll invariably make it worse, I’m sure, I force a smile. “I can do a number, I suppose.” My heart pounds wildly in my chest, but when Gavin’s shoulders ease, I feel like I can breathe.

I can do this. I can prove to him that I’m okay. I can show my father that this isn’t a big deal. Hell, I can show myself this isn’t a big deal.

My music is for me.

Even with that mantra in my head, my hands shake as I stand and walk to the edge of the stage.

The hostess smiles as I approach, already knowing what I’m going to ask. I sing here weekly, so this is nothing new.

It’s my therapy. My escape.

Yes, running to Paris was just that—running from my problems. But it was what I needed. A break from that life. Fresh scenery, where I could figure out who I was without my mother’s influence or commentary from the toxic girls in my music program.

But suddenly, as I wait for my turn, wringing my hands in front of me, the weight of all of their whispers sits on my chest like an anvil.

Can you believe she sang that song?

Millie, you should wear a little more lipstick.

Would you want to come out with us tonight? Don’t forget to bring your brother.

When the hostess tells me I’m up next, I focus on my breathing, working to quiet the insecurities that so often take the shape of the bullies of my past.

Though perhaps focusing on past hurts would be easier than considering the opinions of the very real people who mean the most to me and are currently watching me from a table only ten feet away.

When I step up to the piano, Gavin’s attention is the most potent. I keep my eyes averted, but I imagine he’s probably looking back and forth from me to my father, gauging his reactions and my mannerisms.

He’s always seen more of me than anyone else in my life.

Almost like he sees the person I hope to one day be. The woman beneath the girl. The woman who possesses a strength I’ve yet to master and knows precisely what she wants and how to get it.

The woman he fell for the night we met, the facade I put on before I realized he was more than I’d ever hoped he’d be.

I settle my hands on the keys, and as the first notes fill the space, the song I wrote for him bleeds out of me.

Every word is an explanation to my father. The words are in a language he doesn’t understand, but they’re a confession. The truth about how I fell in love with the person sitting beside him.

It’s freeing, baring my truth in this way. Telling it exactly as it happened. With each line, the weight I’ve carried all night diminishes until, as I finish, I feel lighter than I have in years. When I look up, finally brave enough to meet the eyes of the people I care about, I’m smiling.

Until I see Sienna’s face.

My stomach plummets as I remember that she speaks French. The expression she wears tells me she understood every single word of my confession.

On shaky legs, I walk back to the table, keeping my focus locked on Gavin. He wears a look that might give us away, if I haven’t already. Hearts in his eyes and a smile so big it’s blinding. As I approach, he pulls me in for a suffocating hug.

“That was incredible,” he murmurs.

Though I expect my father to question the gesture when he snatches me from his best friend’s arms, he spins me around, and when he sets me on my feet, his smile is almost as big as Gavin’s. “Millie Rosemarie Hall, what the hell was that?”

I shrug. “Just a little something I’ve been working on.”

“That’s not a little something, Mills,” he gushes. “That was incredible.”

My chest expands under his praise. Maybe now is the time to tell him more about my music. Maybe now I should?—

“You should talk to Lake. She’d love to hear your music. Maybe she’d even help you polish it or buy one of your songs.” My dad lights up as he talks, brows lifted like he’s waiting for my excitement to match his.

I bite my lip to keep from giving away precisely how his words gut me. “Yeah. Uh, maybe.” My voice is hoarse, so I run with the excuse and point to my water, then shuffle back to my seat.

Once I’m settled, Gavin squeezes my thigh beneath the table, reassuring me. He sees me. He knows exactly how clueless my dad is. The daggers he throws at my father for the rest of the night are the only things that keep me from crying.

Later, when we’re in bed and snuggled close, he presses soft kisses to my forehead, telling me how proud he is of me. How beautifully I sang. But it’s not until he believes I’ve fallen asleep that he says the words that break me. “I’m so sorry, Peaches. Never thought I’d say this, but I kind of hate my best friend right now.”