Praise (Salacious Players’ Club)

Emerson

Beau and I were in the car together, a small miracle in itself, when we got a call from Sophie. Charlotte must have given her my number after I gave her the Anime Fest tickets for her birthday because she texted me a few days later to thank me for them. Thank God Beau and I were only a few minutes away. Her frightened sounding voice nearly had me crashing on the road as I sped toward her house. She said her dad showed up out of the blue and was yelling at Charlie, and that she was scared.

She was scared of her father, so she called me. It makes me hate that asshole even more when I think about it.

It’s nearly impossible to keep my words to this human piece of garbage civil, but that’s what Charlie and her mother and her sister deserve right now. So I tell him everything. We might as well lay it all on the line now.

I’m not ashamed of who I am or what I do.

And I love Charlie.

And…I don’t even have the guts to look at her face as the words come tumbling out of my mouth.

“Enough!”

It’s Sophie’s young voice that breaks the tension, just as her dad opens his mouth, ready to argue with me. We all stare at the feisty blue-haired teenager as she stomps out to the yard. I see so much of Charlie in her—fearless and reckless and smart as hell.

“Dad, Mom’s right. You should just leave. I was the one to call Emerson because you scared me when you showed up,” she says, staring at him with a look of fierceness in her eyes that makes my chest swell with pride.

Charlie’s head snaps up to stare at me in shock. “Sophie called you?”

I nod. When I look at her father, I notice that for the first time since I got here, he looks more remorseful than angry. His eyes are glued to Sophie, and his brows are pinched together. He looks seriously wrung out, but I recognize the emotion written in his features—a father’s guilt.

“Dad…” Charlie says, stealing his attention. When he finally looks toward her, his eyes moist and apologetic, she continues, “I’m not ashamed of who I’m dating or what I’m doing, and it may be hard for you to believe, but Emerson didn’t do anything wrong. I’m tired of everyone acting like they know what’s best for me. I’m twenty-one years old, and I’m not stupid or too young to know what I want.”

Her small hand finds mine, intertwining our fingers, and it takes everything in me not to gather her up in my arms and kiss her harder than I’ve ever kissed her before.

“You chose to leave, and you have no right to talk to me the way you did today. If you had been around the last year, maybe you’d see that I have never been happier than I was the last three months.”

I can’t help myself now. I pull her against me, resting her against my chest as I wrap my arms around her, kissing the top of her head.

“Gwen, you’re really going to allow this?” he asks, still putting up a fight, but Charlotte’s mother just lets out a heavy sigh.

“Just leave, Jimmy.”

“Fuck this,” he grumbles in my direction, but I ignore him, inhaling the familiar scent of Charlotte’s shampoo and the soft skin of her arms as I stroke my fingers against them. “We’re not done,” he says to Gwen. “We need to have a serious talk about this later.”

I watch him stomp through the backyard toward the side gate, pausing a moment as he stares at Sophie. She holds up an awkward hand toward him as a way of waving, and we all wait in anticipation to see what Jimmy will do.

“Bye, kiddo,” he says to her, sending her the same awkward wave before stomping away, and it’s hard to miss the disappointment on Sophie’s face. The sound of his car engine echoes before we hear him speed away down the street.

Gwen rushes over to Sophie to wrap her up in her arms. I watch as Beau follows behind, setting a warm hand on Sophie’s shoulder in a comforting touch.

Pulling away, I look down at Charlie. “Are you okay?”

Those fierce brown eyes gaze back up as she nods. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

I wish I could stop myself, but I can’t. I still don’t know where we go from here or what will happen next, so I take what I can get right now, and I press my lips to her forehead.

“What happened?”

“He came out of nowhere. Said someone he worked with at his law firm told him about me at the club. Me being auctioned off and sleeping with the owner.”

Clenching my jaw, I let out a groan. “I’m going to look into this person and have their membership revoked immediately. It’s against our policy to disclose other members outside of the club. I’m so sorry, Charlie.”

“It’s okay,” she says, and maybe by instinct, she leans back into my touch, wrapping her arms around me. The relief from having her back is intense, but I’m too afraid to thank my lucky stars just yet. “Why were you with Beau?” she whispers.

“I called him this morning. Told him I needed to talk to him.”

“Oh,” she replies, looking up at me. “Where were you guys going?”

“To grab a drink. I had something important to talk to him about.”

“Oh…” she says again, her eyes lingering on my face, probably wondering what this very important thing was.

It takes everything in me to let her go and slowly pull away. “I have to talk to him,” I say, and I watch her swallow. Then she nods. I wish I could convey exactly what I’m thinking right now. I want to tell her I was about to tell my son everything. No more waiting for permission or asking him to accept us the way we are. I want her to know that I’m choosing her now, the way I should have before. But there will be time for me to tell her that later.

“Can I call you later?” I ask.

She nods eagerly. Then I stroke her cheek delicately, fighting the urge to hold her for the rest of the day and for as long as I can. But this has to be taken care of first.

As I leave Charlotte standing outside, I turn toward my son. I can’t exactly read his expression. I expected anger and resentment, but it’s more complicated than that. He’s pensive and guarded but also unsure.

“Come on, Beau,” I call, and he follows as I lead him around to the front yard where my car is parked. I distantly remember the first time I came to Charlotte’s house, picking her up for the opening night of the club, how sure I felt at that time that I wouldn’t let things between us get out of hand. How fucking stupid I was to think that was even possible.

There’s no sign of Charlotte’s dad, thank fuck. Although, I guess if I want to be part of her life for the long haul, I’m going to have to find a way to deal with him. As bad as he is for her, it’s not fair for her to live the rest of her life without a dad because he’s so fucking bad at it.

Looking at Beau, I can’t imagine how her father could walk away from them so easily. How delusional does a man have to be to live a life without his own kids? And yet…here I am about to tell mine that I don’t plan on avoiding her just because he doesn’t like it.

It’s silent between us for a moment as I prepare how I’m going to say this to him. A better man might apologize first, but I can’t bring myself to apologize for loving Charlotte. I’m not sorry about it.

When he looks up at me, I can tell he wants to say something, so I brace myself for it. “You know…she tried to warn me. I knew her dad was a jerk, and I didn’t listen. When I heard him say that about you…I just snapped.”

“I’m sorry you had to hear that. But there will always be people who react that way. Who see things one way and refuse to open their minds to anything else. I’d rather be someone people deem as depraved or sinful than being narrow-minded and hateful.”

He nods, his eyes intense on my face. “You really do love her? It’s not just…”

“Yes,” I answer, interrupting him. “I really do love her. And I never meant for it to happen this way. You know that, right?”

“Yeah.”

Then, I brace myself for the hard part. “And you understand that I’m not going to stop seeing her? I should have told you before, and I never should have acted like it was nothing, but I was really afraid of losing you again.”

He swallows and stares at his feet, and it strikes me for the first time that my son really is a man now. He’s not a kid anymore, not the same gangly teenager I remember or the little kid who looked up at me like I hung the moon in the sky. Beau is as much a man as I am, and it’s about time I stop treating him like a kid.

“I still think it’s fucking weird,” he grumbles, and I have to look away to keep from laughing. “And I don’t know if I can really see you guys together, at least not for a while. But…she seems happy with you—a hell of a lot happier than she was with me.”

I’m trying not to get too excited or relieved because this is a small step, but it’s also major, and it’s more than enough. He’s not screaming at me or calling me names or threatening to never speak to me again.

So I stay quiet as he continues.

“I don’t really like it…I’m not gonna lie and say I do.”

“That’s okay,” I reply quickly.

“But…thanks for sticking up for her.”

“Of course.”

“Thanks for sticking up for me,” I reply with a half-smile.

Awkward silence permeates the space between us. And it feels like hours before he finally looks up and gives me the eye contact I wanted. The fact that he’s not walking away or telling me to fuck off is enough to let me know we’ll be okay.

“Still want to go get that drink?” I ask, nodding toward the car.

He squeezes his lips together and nods. “Hell yeah.”

I’m ready to climb into my car and leave. What I’m not ready for is my son taking the three steps to close the distance between us and pull me into an abrupt hug. I wish I could memorize it, and fuck, I try. It’s been so long since he really wrapped his arms around me that I wish time would stop for a moment and let me savor this.

All too soon, he’s pulling away. “All right, let’s go.” Then he climbs into the passenger seat, leaving me stunned.

Beau has a long way to go, and we may never see eye to eye on the club or my relationship with Charlotte, but he’s still my son and I’m not going to let him walk away that easily.