Unravel Me (Playing For Keeps Book 3)

“Welcome to Santa’s Village. Have you been naughty or nice this year?”

I karate chop Carter’s wrist, making him drop the teensy Santa hat he just tried to put on my head in his front doorway.

“Ohhh-ho-ho,” he muses, scooping up the hat with an irritating smirk. “Ollie girl, change Adam’s mark on my naughty or nice list! He’s been a bad boy this year!” He leans into me and Rosie, a hand at his mouth. “It’s okay. Ollie’s been very naughty.”

“Carter ! I can hear you!”

“It’s like she’s got supersonic hearing. I’m sick of it. I never get away with anything.” He scoops Connor into his arms, plopping a loud kiss on his cheeks before he sits him on his shoulders. “C’mon, little dude. Your bestie is waiting for you. I got you matching reindeer outfits. We’re having a photoshoot.”

“Jesus,” I mutter, grabbing Rosie’s hand as we follow Carter into the living room. There’s tinsel draped across the ceiling, mistletoe hanging in the doorway, giant candy canes, twinkly lights, and a small pink Christmas tree, bedazzled to the nines. “It looks like Santa’s elves threw up in here.”

“Carter wanted Ireland’s first Christmas to be special,” Olivia says, wrapping Rosie and me in a hug. “Merry Christmas, you two.” Rosie’s package crinkles against Olivia, whose eyes widen. “Are those—”

“Gingerbread Oreos !” Carter shrieks, tearing the package out of her hands. “I’ve been looking for these everywhere!” He hauls Rosie into his arms, twirling her around. “I love you, I love you, I love you !”

The front door opens behind us, and Jennie steps through the door, a dazzling, dimple-popping smile on her face as she holds out her hand. “We’re—”

Garrett pushes by her, doing a twirl in the entryway. “—engaged!”

“Garrett, you donkey.” Jennie glares at him, fists on her hips. “You stole my entrance!”

“Oops. Sorry, sunshine.” He scoops her into his arms, twirling her as she squeals with laughter. “We’re engaged!”

The girls dash forward, embracing the both of them, and when Jennie frees herself, she dashes over to her brother. Carter hauls her into his chest, hugging her so tight as he whispers in her ear, and when she pulls away, I swear he wipes a tear from his eye.

Then he holds his hand out to Garrett and tells him, “I’m lucky to call you my brother-in-law,” and when they embrace each other, every woman in the room bursts into tears.

Rosie flaps at her face. “I’m not stable enough for this.”

I grip her chin, tilting her face up, and press my lips to her tears. “I love your unstable heart.”

“That’s good, because it’s yours.”

Jaxon steps inside, Mittens tucked under his arm, the two of them in matching Christmas sweaters. He looks at the scene unfolding around him, crying girls and Jennie and Garrett kissing under the mistletoe. “They get engaged?”

I nod.

“Cool. I’m the only single one left. That’s okay. Mitts and I don’t need no one but each other, right, chunk?” He nuzzles Mittens’ face. “No, we don’t. We don’t need no mean, scary girl putting our balls in a vice.”

“You’re not gonna have any balls left to put in a vice if your cat keeps using them as batting practice,” Rosie murmurs, and Jaxon guffaws.

“I’ll have you know I started sleeping with underwear on, so the problem is solved.”

Rosie arches one brow.

“Fine. Whatever. The problem isn’t solved. I refuse to wear underwear to bed.” He points a finger in her face. “Shut up.”

Mittens leaps from Jaxon’s chest to Rosie’s, nuzzling her chin, and Jaxon glares as the two of them walk away, finding a spot to snuggle on the couch where the rest of us join while Jennie and Garrett give us the details on how their engagement went down. Explicit details, right down to what color Jennie’s underwear was. Apparently, it’s a very necessary detail, Jennie argues when Carter says it not, because they matched perfectly with the sapphire on her ring, a pleasant surprise for Garrett when he got to take them off after she said yes.

“You can’t tell me that’s not some soul-mate shit,” Garrett says. “Panties matching her ring?”

It sounds like a coincidence, but he’s so psyched about it, I just nod and tell him, “Oh, for sure. Definitely soul-mate panties.”

I sigh, watching as Carter sticks antlers with bells on them onto Connor and Ireland’s heads. Then he plops matching ones on Bear and Dublin, and when Connor snatches up Mittens, holding him to his chest and kissing his forehead, Carter attaches a tiny pair to the cat too.

Carter flattens himself on the floor, aiming his camera at the most chaotic group of reindeer I’ve ever seen. “Okay, guys, look over here. Ireland, baby, look at Daddy! Connor! Connor, look at your favorite Uncle Carter! Dublin!”

“Mittens,” Jaxon calls, jingling his keys above Carter’s head. “Mittens, look at Daddy! Pss-pss-pss !”

Fuck it. If I can’t beat ’em, might as well join ’em.

“Bear!” I clap my hands. “Up here, buddy! Connor, look at Dada! Say cheese!”

Connor holds up the candy cane, grinning at me. “Cheese , Dada!”

“No , Dublin, don’t eat that!”

“Ireland, baby, Connor’s nose isn’t a chew toy.”

“Mittens ! Not the tree! No, not the—Not the tree !”

The pink tree goes toppling to its side, the dogs trample over it, the cat takes off like lightning, scattering pink ornaments in every direction, and Connor’s just sitting there shrieking with laughter as Ireland stands on her wobbly legs, her arms wrapped around his head while she gnaws on his nose.

I sigh, turning to Rosie, and my heart stops at the two silent tears streaming down her face as she takes in the utter commotion around her.

Olivia lays her hand over Rosie’s. “You okay?”

She sniffles, wiping at her face, head bobbing. “I forgot what Christmas is supposed to feel like. Thank you for reminding me.”

I watch the two of them embrace, and I’m struck by how easy it is for me to forget. To forget that Rosie has missed out on so much, silly traditions, ridiculous antics, embarrassing family you wouldn’t trade for the world. I’ve never known what it’s like to be lonely on a holiday, to crave something so deeply, something that so many people take for granted.

Even over this last week, in all my anger, confusion, in all my fucking hurt , I’ve never had a need to want for anything more than I have. Everyone I need to get through this shitstorm has stood firmly by my side, reminding me that, whatever the outcome, I don’t have to do it alone.

Rosie hasn’t had that, not until now, and I know this family is going to give her everything she’s been missing.

“Hey.” Carter nudges my side, offering me a beer, inclining with his head toward his patio door. “Let’s head outside for a bit.”

I leave Rosie with a kiss and follow the rest of the boys outside, taking a seat around the small fire Carter’s tending to.

He holds up a bag of marshmallows and a package each of candy cane and gingerbread Oreos. “Christmas s’mores?”

“Oooh.” Garrett rubs his belly. “I could fuck with those.”

“How you feeling?” Emmett asks me as we roast marshmallows.

“Better than I was two days ago. Cara’s advice was right, I think. Threatening to sue, to serve Courtney in public like that.” There were so many eyes on us, watching. Normally, I do everything in my power to avoid the media. They’re bloodthirsty and ruthless, which is the only reason anybody with a brain would spread that bullshit story about Rosie being my mistress and Connor being our secret baby.

I’m not sure Courtney even realizes the mistake she made yesterday. She thought she had me pegged as the same nice guy who let her walk all over him all those years. The lawsuit shocked her, and in her haste to grasp at any straw, she tripped over her own lie and admitted that I wasn’t Connor’s biological father.

Now I can only hope that, somehow, word spreads.

“I won’t tell Cara you said she was right. She’s almost never wrong. In fact, she keeps track of every day that goes by where she’s not wrong. Her current streak is one hundred and forty-seven.” Emmett runs an exhausted palm over his face. “I should know. It’s written on my bathroom mirror in pink lipstick.”

I chuckle, sipping at my beer as the fire toasts my marshmallow. “I need to see her walk out of this city and never, ever come back. This chapter of my life needs to end, and I don’t feel like I can truly put it behind me until she’s gone for good.”

Carter raises his beer. “To killing off Courtney.” He looks around at our blank faces, our beers still in our laps. “What? Is that not what we’re…yeah, no, obviously what I meant was…to gently…guiding …Courtney…out of this city. Obviously. Obviously, that’s what I meant.”

His eyes slide to Garrett, and then roll. “And I guess to Garrett and Jennie, so lucky to have you as a brother, can’t wait for you to marry my sister, I know you’ll make her happy, blah blah blah, I love you.”

“You just said you love me,” Garrett whispers.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Carter just said he loves Garreeett,” I sing.

“Carter loves Garrett, Carter loves Garrett,” Jaxon adds.

Carter smooshes a roasted marshmallow between an Oreo. “Whatever. Real men love their friends. I read somewhere that there’s a direct correlation between how much love a man shows other men and the size of his cock.”

“Ah,” Emmett hums. “That explains your pocket rocket.”

Carter stills, his gaze slowly rising to meet Emmett’s. “Excuse me?”

“Your tiny dick. That explains it.”

Carter rises from his chair. “Excuse. The fuck. Out. Of me.”

“Everyone knows Adam is the biggest,” Garrett adds, and I shrug but also nod, because, yeah.

“You son of a bitch. I just welcomed you to my family.” He leans closer, trying and failing to whisper. “I told you I love you, and this is how you repay me?”

“There’s only one way to know for sure.” Jaxon stands, reaching for his belt buckle.

“There are children here,” I rush out. “We’re not whipping our dicks out.”

“Of course not.” He walks to the snow-covered grass and turns his back on us, the sound of his zipper echoing through the frigid Christmas Eve air. He smiles at us over his shoulder, and then spreads his arms wide, face-planting in the snow.

“Ooou, fuck !” He scrambles to his feet, jumping back and forth as he tucks himself away. Then, with a grin, he points at the snow, some sort of distorted snow angel, and, uh…a perfectly shaped imprint of his cock. “Beat that, fuckers.”

“No. No way.”

I shake my head, backing away.

“I’m twenty-six. I’m not dipping my dick in the snow to compare sizes.”

I dipped my dick in the snow to compare sizes.

Honestly, I don’t want to talk about it.

“That’s clear shrinkage!” Carter shrieks. “From the snow! ’Cause it’s cold!”

“If you have shrinkage, we all have shrinkage!” Garrett screams back, arms flailing. “That doesn’t change the fact that Adam’s a half inch bigger than you!”

“Three-eighths! Three-eighths of an inch, not a half!”

The patio door slides open, four beautiful, concerned women staring back at us with mugs of boozy hot chocolate in their hands.

“What’s going on out here?” Olivia asks, shifty eyes moving between us as we shiver, wet with snow.

“Nothing,” Carter lies quickly. “Nothing, Ollie.”

Cara looks at Emmett, raising a brow, and that motherfucker folds like a lawn chair. “We were comparing dicks by dipping them in the snow,” he blurts, then breathes out a deep sigh of relief. “Adam’s got Carter beat by a half inch.”

“Three-eighths !”

Rosie’s amused gaze comes to mine. “Adam, you didn’t participate in this, did you?”

Heat rises to my cheeks, even though my junk is fucking frozen solid. With an anxious chuckle, and a sheepish grin I hope is equally charming, I sidestep to the right, showing her my slutty snow angel.

“Sweet holy mother of Jesus,” Cara murmurs. “Look at that dicksicle. Rosie, how are you upright?”

She opens her mouth to tell everyone how sweet and respectfully I fuck her, but the trill of my phone slices through the night air. My heartbeat thumps in my chest at the name on my screen.

“It’s my lawyer.”

Rosie rushes to my side, and my friends crowd around me as I answer the phone.

“I know it’s Christmas Eve, Adam, but I figured you’d want answers as soon as I had them,” my lawyer tells me. “Courtney refused the paternity test.”

“Of course she did,” I growl, and Rosie slides her hand into mine, squeezing gently.

“She refused the paternity test because the baby isn’t yours, Adam.”

“What?”

“You didn’t sleep with her that night. You were asleep in your bedroom, and she snapped that picture to make it look like you two had been together. She was five weeks pregnant already.”

I didn’t sleep with her.

“I also issued her a no-contact order for you and Rosie, and was explicitly clear what types of ramifications there might be on her Canadian visa should she choose to break it. This is over, Adam, for good. And if you need a little proof to help you feel confident in that, I suggest hopping on Twitter. A minute of scrolling will give you all the satisfaction you need.”

I pull up the app as soon as we disconnect, my heart racing at the content littering my feed. Links to gossip articles detailing Courtney’s scheming, all her lies. Posts in support of Rosie and me, people sending their best wishes to our family. I click on a video that has tens of thousands of shares, watching a repeat of yesterday from a different view: me and Rosie, a united front, and Courtney, desperate and caught in her lies.

“How did they get this footage?” Rosie asks.

I look up at her, at my friends surrounding me, and my hands tremble. “I don’t know. But they’re incredible.”

“Wow,” Cara murmurs, doing a piss-poor job of hiding her sneaky smile behind her boozy hot chocolate. “It’s almost as if someone knew you’d be there, at that exact coffee shop, at that exact time, and made sure they were situated within earshot of that exact devil, so they could record that exact conversation, only to turn around and leak it. Hmmm.” She sips her drink, licking the whipped cream from her top lip. “I wonder who that possibly could’ve been.”

“That was you?” I ask quietly. “You did this?”

“Rather easily, my man. And quite frankly, I’m insulted you two didn’t notice me. Yes, I had my big sunglasses on, and yes, I was wearing Emmett’s hideous scarf his nana knit him that I’d usually never be caught dead in. But there’s no one alive with hair this gorgeous, and you should be able to spot it from a mile away.”

“You did this for Adam?” Rosie whispers, green eyes glassy.

“I did it for my family. For Adam, and Connor, and you. Because nobody gets away with hurting the people I love.”

Rosie throws herself at Cara, wrapping her arms around her neck, burying her face in Cara’s long blonde hair, while I stand here, too shocked to move.

“There’s one more thing,” Cara says. “Search the hashtag deportcourt .”

My feed floods with pictures of my ex. The same picture, over and over again, of her with a baseball cap pulled down low, a baggy sweater, and a scarf wrapped around her neck, covering half her face, like she’s trying to go unnoticed.

There’s no mistaking that red hair, though.

Just like there’s no mistaking the luggage at her feet.

Or the runway behind her.

My feed updates, a new tweet appearing with the same hashtag. A simple picture of a plane taking off, and two words I was beginning to think I’d never see.

She’s gone . Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

I toss my phone at Carter’s chest, wrap Cara in the tightest, best hug, and take Rosie’s face in my hands.

“She’s gone?” she whispers. “Really?”

“She’s fucking gone.”

A sprig of mistletoe appears above us, held up by Carter. “I really wanna have a group hug, so we all need you to hurry up and kiss.”

Rosie giggles, that adorable scrunch of her nose making me smile. I kiss that first, then the dimple in her chin, before finally—fucking finally —taking her mouth. It’s soft and sweet, unhurried and tender, and it tastes like freedom. Freedom to love with everything I have. Freedom in letting go. Freedom to be who I am and to know with certainty that all of me is loved.

Then, our friends come around us, winding arms and tender squeezes.

And this? This feels like family.