Unravel Me (Playing For Keeps Book 3)

“No.”

“Rosie, you can do this.”

I look up at the building on the other side of this windshield. Vancouver Drive Test . Absolutely forking not . I pin my arms across my chest and shake my head. “Adam, no. I can’t do this. I-I-I…I’m not ready. I’ll fail.”

“When have you ever failed at anything?” Adam twists in his seat, taking my hands in his. “Rosie, you’ve been practicing so much. You’re doing incredible, and beyond that, you’re an extraordinarily safe driver.”

Translation: anal. I’m an anal driver, and we both know it. Adam has lovingly reminded me that I can go a teensy bit over the speed limit and still be safe, but I’d rather continue driving my way: taking my foot off the gas pedal and letting us coast every time I get one or two miles over.

“I already know the examiner is going to be so impressed with how well you maintain the exact speed limit at all times.”

I narrow my eyes at the amusement dancing in his. “I know you’re laughing at me in your head, Adam .”

He chuckles, pulling my hand to his mouth, sweeping a kiss over my knuckles. “I would never laugh at you. I only laugh with you.”

“I’m not laughing,” I argue, lifting my shoulder to nudge Piglet’s tongue out of my ear when she sticks it there from the backseat. She settles on licking my temple. “Is this why we picked up Pig? Brought Bear? So everyone can watch me fail? And on my birthday, no less.”

“Connor, tell Mama she’s not gonna fail.”

“Mama no fail!” he shouts from the backseat.

I can’t tell you how often I’ve wished I had the same faith in myself that Adam and Connor have in me. They make it seem so easy, so natural, the way they believe in me. What I wouldn’t give to live one day inside the head of a person who never second-guesses themselves.

Adam runs his thumb over the dimple in my chin. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Overthinking. Forgetting how amazing you are, how many strides you take day after day to be better than you were. You get behind the wheel every single day, whether it’s with me, Archie, or Marco. Whether we’re practicing for two hours or just running to Starbucks. You constantly put one foot in front of the other and work on your goals and your fears. You inspire me every day, Rosie. Even on your hard days.”

“Do you wake up every day and think to yourself, ‘What can I say to Rosie today that’ll make her fall even more in love with me?’”

“Pretty much. I need you head over heels if I have any hope of getting you to change your last name one day. Every morning I wake up and ask myself how I can get us one step closer.”

“Shut up,” I say, all giggle-snort as that familiar heat climbs up my neck. Scuffing at the floor of the truck, I mumble, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“Rosie, what would you have done if you knew three weeks ago that you had your driving test today?”

“I would’ve lost at least three nights of sleep catastrophizing everything that could possibly go wrong, had a handful of anxiety attacks, and I definitely would’ve thrown up this morning.”

He smiles gently, brushing my bangs back. “I wanted it to be a surprise so you weren’t stressing and in your head about this for weeks. It was too much time for you to second-guess how much you’ve learned in these last two months.” With my chin in his hand, he brings my lips to his. “If you’re not ready, or you simply don’t want to—it doesn’t matter the reason; you don’t need an excuse—just say the word. I’ll turn this truck back on and we’ll go get birthday cupcakes. There isn’t a rulebook saying you have to do this. But you can do this, Rosie. And if we leave here today without trying, that’s okay. As long as you walk away knowing you’re capable.” Another kiss, this one everything so inherently Adam. Sweet, soft, that bit of force that coaxes me wide open. “I believe in you.”

I glance at my son in the backseat, chattering on to the dogs who look at him like he’s their whole world. His sweater says Mama is a superhero , and when Adam dropped him on the bed this morning wearing that, I thought it was simply a sweet gesture for my twenty-fifth birthday.

“Do you really think I’m a superhero?” I whisper to Adam.

“I know you are. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. You take the impossible and make it possible.”

Truth is, I feel like most things in this world are possible with his hand in mine.

Maybe that’s why I take a deep breath and step out of the truck.

And maybe that’s why, fifteen minutes later, when I drive off with the examiner in the passenger seat and Adam, Connor, and the dogs on the walkway, holding a poster board that says Go, Mama, Go! I feel like I might actually be a superhero.

And maybe, just maybe, when I pull up to the curb forty-five minutes later, that’s why I get to jump down from the truck, hold up my final grade with shaky hands, and shout out a sentence I never thought I’d get to say.

“I’m a licensed driver!”

“I have five cars. You can use one of mine.”

I open my mouth to politely decline, but Carter holds up a hand.

“Wait, it’s six. I have six cars. ’Cause Ollie won’t let me get rid of Red Rhonda.”

Olivia’s face lights. “You can borrow Red Rhonda! She’s such a great little starter car. I got her used when I was seventeen. She—”

Carter covers her mouth with his hand, pulling her back against his chest. “Once she starts on Rhonda, she doesn’t stop. And trust me, Ro, ol’ Rhonda isn’t gonna get you anywhere, except stuck in a ditch.”

Olivia frowns, ripping his hand away. “That was one time. She just needs new snow tires and she’ll be good as new.”

Carter’s gaze locks with mine, and he shakes his head, discreetly cutting a hand across his throat.

“I’ll probably keep up with the bus while I save. Maybe that’ll be my first big purchase after I graduate in the spring, when Connor and I get our own place.”

“You mean when you move in with Adam?” Carter asks, then grips his shoulder when Olivia gives him a little whack there. “Ow! Don’t make me tie those hands up, Ollie girl.”

She rolls her eyes. “The move-in discussion is one for them to have, not them plus you.”

“But—”

Olivia silences him with nothing but the fierce look in her eyes.

“Fine,” he grumbles. “But it’s not like Adam’s gonna let her go somewhere else. He’s pretty obsessed with her.”

My gaze flicks to Adam beside me, only to find him already watching me. He winks, and the simple action, paired with him pushing that giant wagon with both Connor and Ireland inside, and Bear and Dublin, Carter and Olivia’s golden retriever, sends a heady rush of blood to my head. He’s so innately at home in this role as a family man, like he was made to fill these shoes, and damnit, he does it so well.

It’s been two months since we’ve seen Brandon, and I haven’t heard from him once. I knew that was it, the moment we walked out his door. I knew there would be no going back, that he would take the easy way out, the one he’d probably been searching for since the beginning. But if I’d had a shred of doubt, it would have dissolved in flames the night Archie came home from work, said he saw a pile of Connor’s things set next to the trash on the curb out front of Brandon’s condo.

The picture in my head was gutting, and once Connor was in bed for the night, I curled up on the couch and cried in Archie’s arms. The knowledge that it was so easy for Brandon to let go of Connor, to liken it to taking out the trash, it hurt like hell.

And yet, Connor hasn’t asked for him once. His days are filled with more love now than they ever were, people who put themselves in his life because they want to be a part of it, and my boy is thriving, absolutely glowing. I have so many incredible people to thank for that, but the one who’s made the biggest difference recently is the man standing next to me. The one who picks him up early from daycare while I’m still in clinic, keeps him home for the day because he missed him so much while he was traveling. Sings and dances with him in the living room. Walks him to the local school at dismissal time just so he can see all the buses coming and going. Lets him make a mess at the kitchen counter while they make breakfast together. Wears bubble beards and bubble hats with him. Reads to him while they’re lying in bed at night. Loves him, unconditionally, the way a child is meant to be loved.

Nostalgia stokes a warm fire in my chest on this chilly November evening, reminding me of the childhood I had, all the ways my parents loved me and showed me every day. All I want to do is give Connor a childhood like the one I had, and I hope somewhere, my parents are looking down at me, proud of the life we’re living.

Proud of me.

“Sorry, fellas. We’d love to give you two special permission, but you have to leave the wagon here. The bridge isn’t fully accessible, unfortunately.”

“The bridge?” I swing my head around, realizing for the first time that we’ve veered off Capilano Road, that we’re now in the entryway to some sort of park, talking to a smiling attendant. I watch Adam and Carter take the kids out of the wagon, securing them to their chests in carriers. The sight is so fucking attractive, but I can’t fully appreciate it in this moment. “What bridge, Adam?”

“Right on time too,” the attendant continues. “The lights go on in five minutes.”

“Lights? What lights? Adam, what lights?”

He just smiles, taking my hand, pulling me forward. My heart threatens to pound right out of my chest, because the only bridge and lights I can think of are the ones my parents were supposed to take me to see exactly thirteen years ago, on my twelfth birthday.

“I thought we were just going for a walk,” I rush out, stumbling down the path, my hand suddenly clammy in his.

“You didn’t think I’d let your birthday pass without giving you something you’ve always wanted, did you?”

“You already did,” I argue. “You taught me to drive. I’m a licensed driver today because of you. You fed me breakfast in bed, and no one, not ever, has done that for me.” And because I’m nervous, and freaking out just a little , I lean closer and whisper, “And you did that thing with your tongue, remember?”

“Ah,” he hums. “Yes, I did. And with my fingers too. And then you did that thing you do, what was it, three times over?”

“Four,” I murmur, the memory of his name on my lips while I came this morning still such a vibrant, beautiful, incredible memory.

“Right, well, let me give you one last thing.” He stops and pulls me back to him, pausing to look at his watch. 4:28 p.m., it says, right on track for this late-fall Vancouver sunset, and Adam smiles. “I need you to close your eyes for me.”

My chest pulls taut, and I shake my head. “I’m scared.”

Connor touches my nose. “Mama no scare.”

“I should be brave?” I ask him quietly.

He nods. “Mama bwave.”

“Okay. I’ll be brave, but only because it’s easy to be brave with you two beside me.”

Adam’s fingers lace through mine, a tender squeeze that urges my eyes closed. Gently, he leads me forward, and when we stop again, I grip his hand so hard I’m afraid I might cut off fingers he may or may not need in order to catch pucks; I’m still not totally sure of the logistics of hockey.

While I wait, my heart thuds a quick, unsteady beat, a buzz of electricity that pulses through me, to the tips of my fingers and all the way down to my toes. I breathe in the fresh air, listen to the sound of birds singing overhead, twigs snapping and rustling leaves, and hundreds of memories flood my brain. Memories of times so long ago, spent in places just like this, where the two people who loved me more than anything showed me how to appreciate nature, how to fall in love with the way it grounds you, makes every worry seem so small.

Sometimes life has a funny way of reminding you that the permanence of death isn’t quite as all-encompassing as we believe it to be. That despite the lack of physical evidence, the people we part ways with are never all that far. That they linger with us, show up sometimes at the strangest, most inconsequential moments.

Because as I finish smiling at the thought of my parents, at the moment Adam’s lips touch my ear, whispering for me to open my eyes, I’m graced with the most magnificent view, one I’ve waited over half my life to see.

In a plush forest of deep green, vibrant colors dance with the swaying trees, glitter down below in the running river, twinkle against the purple and coral sunset, and wind like glowing vines around a bridge I’d given up walking along.

For my twenty-fifth birthday, Adam is giving me the gift my parents couldn’t deliver on my twelfth birthday. But more than that, he’s giving me them. There’s nothing I feel more right now than the certainty that my parents are right here at my side, that they’ve never left. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Speechless, I stare out at the Capilano Suspension Bridge, the river and the trees, the millions of twinkly lights that make this day glow. And when I look into Adam’s eyes, it’s not just the lights that dance in them, but the same love my parents showered me with, day in and day out. A silent tear runs down my cheek at the powerful feeling, so palpable I lean into it, close my eyes, and drink it in.

Adam catches my tear with his thumb. “I know this was supposed to be something special you and your parents did together, and I can’t replace that, but I thought…” He gestures behind me, and I turn to see all our friends join us next to Olivia and Carter. Archie and Marco, Garrett and Jennie, Cara and Emmett, and Jaxon. “I thought this family might be a decent runner-up.”

“Please say yes,” Carter whispers over my shoulder. “My ego can’t take the hit.”

“Your ego is big enough to take at least a hundred hits before it’s in danger,” I whisper back, sniffling.

“Damn it, she knows me too well already.”

I wipe the tears from my eyes. “You guys are here for me?”

“Where else would we be?” Archie asks.

Cara smiles. “We’re family, Rosie. We show up for each other.”

Jennie slaps at her cheeks. “I’m not crying, FYI. It’s just, you’re crying, and the lights are super pretty, and I love birthdays, and-and…” She chokes on a quiet sob as Garrett rubs her back. “I have really bad allergies.”

Adam grips my hand. “I mentioned we love super hard in this family, right? Any more and it’d be downright suffocating.”

Suffocating? But it’s the opposite. These people, the way they love so openly and without limits, it’s so goddamn refreshing. I’ve been searching my entire life for these people, for this kind of love, and I didn’t just find it in one person; I found it in a whole group of them. Surrounding myself with their love is like coming up for air at the last moment, having life breathed back into you.

I think about it all night, as we wander the lit trails, have hot chocolate above the river, as we talk and laugh and enjoy every moment together. And when Adam and I are lying in bed later that night, all I want to do is say thank you.

I run my fingers through the dark smattering of curls on his chest, stuff my leg between his, desperate to be as close as possible to my person as his fingertips trail down my back.

“Can I tell you something?” I murmur into the silence of the night.

Midnight eyes fall to mine, a handsome, lazy smile hooking the corner of his mouth. “Anything, gorgeous girl.”

“Earlier tonight, you said you wanted to give me something I’ve always wanted. But I already have that, Adam, because I have you. You gave me you. And I’ve always wanted you, even before I knew you. My heart knew you were out there, that we’d find you one day.” I skim his jaw, fingers sliding into his hair as I guide his mouth to mine. “How lucky am I to have my dreams come true?”

“Am I really your dream?” he whispers against my lips. “Promise?”

“Swear it.”