Vegas Aces: The Wide Receiver Complete Series

CHAPTER 17 TESSA

I draw in a deep breath as I click the call button, determined to get to the bottom of this Stephanie business.

“Hey Tessa!” Stephanie answers, and she’s overly enthusiastic.

Avoid her.

Make notes of when you see her.

Stay away from her.

I ignore all the sage advice from the people who most care about me in the entire world, and instead I follow my gut.

“I was thinking of coming to Kewanee to see you. I thought maybe you could show me your downtown area so I can get a feel for what you’re doing with the craft fair. Are you busy?” I ask. I figure we can do this on her home turf, make her comfortable, and then ask the hard-hitting questions.

I have to.

I need this resolved before I go to Vegas to marry Tristan. I need to have answers before I have this baby.

And something struck me this morning when I woke up.

I’ve largely ignored her and written her off. I’ve blamed her for this JustFans thing without ever asking her.

What if I just ask her?

Tristan thinks it’s a terrible idea, but he said he’d come with me. My guess is he’s doing it in some effort to keep me safe, but as weird as Stephanie can be, I really don’t think she poses an actual threat.

But I also don’t know her that well because I haven’t allowed myself the chance to.

Maybe there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for all the weirdness where she’s concerned, or maybe I’ll leave, get on a plane to Vegas, block her number, and never look back.

We’re short on time since we leave for Vegas tonight, but I convinced him to take a detour through Kewanee on the way to the airport.

“That would be amazing!” she squeals. “When are you thinking?”

“I’m heading out of town tonight, so I was thinking I could swing by on my way to the airport. Say in the next hour or so?” I ask.

“Perfect! I’m home, so I’ll just text over my address and you can meet me here. Sound okay?”

“Yep,” I say, and I nod at Tristan, who sighs, but then like the amazing future husband he’s going to be, he grabs our suitcases and loads them into his truck.

An hour later, we’re pulling into the driveway of a small house that looks like it could use a fresh coat of paint. The front yard is covered in weeds, and a weather-beaten old rocking chair sits on the front stoop. It looks like it would fall apart if someone actually sat on it.

“This is it,” I say.

“Are you sure about this?” Tristan asks.

I nod. “Let’s just settle this once and for all.”

He walks up behind me as I ring the bell, and when Stephanie opens the door, she looks excited to see me here.

And then her face falls as she spots Tristan standing behind me.

“Come on in,” she says, and we enter right into a family room with a couch pointed at a television. It’s a small space, big enough for the couch and a small coffee table, and she motions toward the couch to tell us to sit. It’s neat and tidy in here, like she ran around cleaning and vacuuming the second she knew a guest was coming. “Can I get you anything?”

I shake my head. “We can’t stay too long.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back. Make yourselves at home,” she says.

She disappears for a moment, and when she returns, she’s carrying a chair that looks like it came from her kitchen table. She sets it in the small entryway by the front door and sits.

“So good to see you both,” she says, her eyes edging nervously to Tristan. “Did you want to go downtown to see where the fair is going to be set up?”

“I uh…I actually didn’t come to talk about the fair,” I say, and Tristan sits quietly beside me, though he seems to stiffen at my words. My eyes are down on my hands.

“You didn’t?” Stephanie asks, and she sounds confused.

I shake my head as I glance up at her. “I need to ask you something.”

Her brows dip. “Okay…”

“Are you impersonating me online?” I blurt.

Her brows dip as her hand moves to her chest in horror. “What?” she gasps.

“Someone has been dancing naked for money and pretending to be me on the site JustFans. Is that you?” I ask.

“JustFans…I would never! How can you even ask me that?” she asks, and she truly does sound offended.

I glance at Tristan, and he nods.

“It’s just…I saw your photos on Instagram. I saw you had gone places I had gone with our dad and took the same sorts of photos. It just seemed a little—um… strange to me. Like you were already impersonating me in that way, so maybe this JustFans thing is you, too,” I say, stumbling over my words.

Her cheeks flush. “I can’t believe you’d come in my own home and accuse me of such a horrible thing!”

“But the Instagram pictures…” I say, trying to get an answer for that out of her if she’s not going to admit to the naked dancing.

“Tessa, I was never impersonating you. I wanted to know what it felt like to have your childhood. I wanted to feel his presence in those places since I never got to do those things with him when he was here. It was my way of mourning so much of the loss I’ve had in the last year. He did those things with you , and he never did them with me . But to impersonate you online? I’m hurt you think so little of me.”

“I don’t think little of you,” I say softly. “I don’t even know you.”

“Because you haven’t tried to get to know me,” she says flatly. “I lost my father seven months ago, effectively erasing any chance at all of having any sort of relationship with him. The only way I even have a shot at getting to know who he was is through you.”

I stare at her as her words plow into me. “How’d he keep you quiet?” I ask softly.

Her brows dip. “What?”

“Why didn’t you come introduce yourself before he died? Why did you wait until after?”

She sighs, and then she glances around her house and holds her hands up to indicate the entire thing. “He bought my mom this house. He paid for my college classes. He tried to take care of us monetarily, and he threatened to take it all away if I told anyone the truth.” She shakes her head. “I lost my mother two months before he passed. I was scared of getting cut off financially. Scared I wouldn’t be able to stay in this house. Scared I wouldn’t be able to put food on the table. I wanted to reach out to you so many times, but I couldn’t.”

I just sit quietly, shock running through me her words start to register.

“She was my best friend, but she was also very sick, and I was her caretaker for the last three years. I lost all my friends when they moved away after college, and I was stuck here caring for her. I’m all alone, living in my mother’s house in a tiny town I can’t seem to break out of, but at least I had my father sending me money and doing what he could to take care of me even though he couldn’t physically be here…until I didn’t. And when I finally met you, I was so excited to finally have the sister I always wanted. But you just constantly push me away, or brush me off, or have a reason why you don’t want anything to do with me.”

“Oh, Stephanie. I’m so, so sorry,” I say softly. I stand and move over toward her, and I hold out a hand. She takes it and stands, too, as a new understanding dawns on me.

She has literally nobody.

She found me and immediately clung onto me before she took any chance of getting to know me, and rather than accept her and take her in as my half-sister, I resisted the clinginess and kept pushing her away.

“I can’t even begin to imagine what you’ve been through.” I pull her into a hug, and I turn us so her back is toward Tristan. I meet his eyes with mine, and I gently sweep her hair to the side just to be totally certain.

He shakes his head a little.

No tattoo.

I hug her a little closer as regret tightens my chest. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been accepting. You have to understand that with my relationship with Tristan, a lot of people try to take advantage of him, which in turn means of me, too. I haven’t allowed myself to be open to the possibility of a relationship with you for lots of reasons—reasons maybe we can talk about someday, but not now. I’d love it if we could start over, though. Maybe get to know one another. Become friends. Become sisters, even—because I always wanted a sister, too.”

She pulls back. “You mean it?”

“I’d love to try. But I also think we need to set some boundaries, okay?”

She glances at Tristan then back at me, and she nods. “Okay.”

“No more unexpected, surprise drop-ins,” I say, ticking off the things that bother me most.

She nods.

“No more fighting with Tristan. I’m marrying him, and we’re a package deal.”

She shoots him a glare, but she reluctantly nods a little. “Fine. But he has to be nice to me, too.”

I look at him and raise my brows, and he holds up both hands innocently. “Promise.”

“And most important of all, Stephanie…just be you ,” I say. “Stop trying to be me.”

“I wasn’t—” She starts to protest, but I cut her off.

“You started a town craft fair because I did. You said you were going to go back to school for nursing. You cut your hair like mine. Just stop. Please. Be you, because that is who I want to get to know.”

“Fine,” she mumbles. “But can I just tell you one thing?”

My brows knit together as I narrow my eyes at her. “What?”

“I’m interviewing for a new position.”

“Where?” I ask.

She clears her throat. “Lakeshore Pediatrics.”

I can’t help a small laugh. She doesn’t have her RN, and I’m guessing she’s applying for a tech job. And I think it would be a great fit for her…as long as she can be herself.

“I’ll put in a good word for you.” I wink at her, and she laughs.

We spend a little more time chatting, and she tells me she’s going to cancel the craft fair. I feel a little sense of relief at that, and I already see her starting to come out of her shell a little. I feel like I’m already starting to get to know Stephanie , not Tessa two-point-oh.

We have to leave to catch our flight, so we say our goodbyes with promises to do lunch soon. And we will. I really have always wanted a sister, and even though she came about in a strange way, I do think we could eventually become friends if I give her the chance and she sticks to the boundaries we set.

But one question remains, and I ask it in the car once we hit the highway.

“So if it’s not her doing the JustFans thing…who is it?”