The Game Changer

by Lana Ferguson

“Did you take your meds today?” “What my Adderall and I do in the privacy of my own home is no one else’s business,” he answers primly.

My father narrows his eyes, and for a moment, I feel like a little boy again, being scolded for doing whatever I’d done that day to disappoint him. I have to remind myself that it doesn’t matter now, that it doesn’t affect my decisions.

felt.

And as big of a space in my head that Ian Chase’s name takes up—his actual presence is a hundred times worse.

How did a beard and a few creases at the corner of his eyes somehow make him hotter?

“My agent. Not big on nonsense.” “Ah.” I chuckle. I hitch a thumb over my shoulder at Theo, who is alternating between trying to put distance between himself and a moon-eyed Ben and getting my attention to come be his buffer. “Mine. Very big on nonsense.”

“They make these blueberry scones that are basically better than sex,” I say offhandedly, immediately blushing when I realize what I’ve said. “Wow. Sorry.” Ian’s cheeks tinge pink when I peek up at him, but he smiles regardless. “They must be some really good fucking scones.”

I can see the moment that he realizes he’s touching me; his lips part and the pads of his fingertips press a fraction harder against my shirt, his hand flexing with movement before he lets it fall away.

the Darcy hand flex

Ian Chase ages like Gouda, and I love me some fucking cheese.

“Here,” he says, his sleeves effectively rolled and my mind effectively blown.

Ian looks pleased when he’s done, giving me one of his rare-ish smiles that is full and open, and it’s too much, really. Baking, ink, and full-blown smiles?

“Brat,” he huffs. My stomach twists again. You have no right to be turned on by that, I tell my nether region. Down, girl.

“Don’t worry, babe, you won’t be a rookie forever.” “I’m not a rookie now!” Sanchez shrugs. “You’re a rookie till we get a new rookie. I don’t make the rules.”

I’ll leave you here to enjoy the view.” “You know it’s not like that.” “Yeah, yeah, I heard the PR spiel.” He leans in close, pinching my cheek. “Hasn’t stopped the big guy from glaring at me for the last sixty seconds.”

His hand envelops mine suddenly, yanking me closer so that he can lean in, his lips brushing my ear and causing me to shudder. “Two can play that game, brat.”

Ian’s fingers trail along an old chain attached to one of the swings, tweaking it thoughtfully. I brush past him, plopping down into the rubber seat. “Jack and I used to play out here a lot while we stayed here.” I push the toes of my shoes against the ground, propelling myself back and forth and giving him one arched brow. “He would always push me.” Ian chuffs as he moves behind me, giving my back a gentle shove. “Subtle.” “Got what I wanted, though, huh?”

I try to cut through the awkward tension between us by shaking off my desperate thoughts and bumping my hip against his, forcing a grin on my mouth. “Come on, I’ll race you back.” “What?” His nose scrunches. “I’m not going to—” I take off at a dead run, laughing, and it hardly even takes a second for me to hear the heavy falls of his footsteps close behind me, an answering laugh in the wind.

“Always hoped you two would get married,” she says offhandedly, like it’s not the equivalent of dropping an atom bomb into the conversation. “Then I could have all of you as my kids.” “Aunt Bea,” Lila hisses, her face flushing. “Seriously?”

There’s something so…comforting about him. Something solid and reliable that feels like stability and home and all sorts of other good things that turn me into a pile of goo whenever he’s nearby.

His hand reaches to let his finger trace along his lower lip, and my eyes are glued to that action, and I’m talking super, not Elmer’s.

“I don’t know. You’ve seemed…different.” “Have I?” I grind to a halt, grabbing her wrist and forcing her to stop skating. “Lila.” “Ian,” she counters almost petulantly, her chin tilting up and her eyes narrowing.

He’s the perfect father and husband as far as the rest of the city is concerned.” “I don’t know,” she muses. “I’ve always thought he was kind of sleazy-seeming.” I smirk. “Oh, have you?” “It’s the eyes,” she says seriously. “You can always tell.” “We have the same eyes,” I remind her. She turns her head, her lips curling and her expression warm as she says, “No, you really don’t.”

You would never do something like that. You’re too steady for that.”

“And if…” I clear my throat. “If they saw you now? Would it be too late?” Her lip is trembling, but her eyes…Her eyes are fucking shining. “I think…you know the answer to that too.” “I see you, Lila,” I tell her quietly.

“Now let’s sneak you out of here before Jack tries to whoop my ass one-handed.”

“Text me when you get home,” he murmurs when I finally break away. I grin up at him. “Are you asking me or telling me?” “Telling,” he answers firmly, reaching around to give one sharp slap to the side of my ass. “Brat.”

“I think you’re trying to test my patience.” “Is it working?” He looks deathly serious when he answers, “You’re about to find out.” My eyes round as he starts toward me, and my heart rate doubles as I stumble away, going into a run toward my bedroom, hearing his heavy steps following close behind. A giggle that sounds almost like a scream leaves me when his arm slides around my waist just as I burst through my bedroom door, his solid frame colliding with mine.

I shake my head at the both of them, grabbing my drink—yeah, it’s the same one Ian ordered for me when we first hung out here, because I’ve started drinking them again like a total sap—fiddling

Her smile is wicked, making me want to spank her ass just as much as it makes me want to kiss her again.

“Is Jack already gone?” Ian nods. “He wanted to hang around after…” He clears his throat. “I convinced him to go. Told him I wanted to be alone for a bit.” “Do you want to be alone?” He immediately shakes his head. “Not from you.”

“I’m definitely obsessed with you.” “Really?” I wish my voice didn’t sound so unsure; I hate sounding so needy with him, but I can’t help it. Ian wanting me like this…It’s everything. “Really,” he murmurs, his lips feathering against mine. “I’m days away from doodling your name in my notebook. Teenage Lila has nothing on middle-aged me.”

Weirdly, this just makes Jack look more grumpy. Still, he offers his cheek so Lila can smack a noisy kiss there, making me jealous that I can’t press up on my toes so she can lean down and do the same for me.

I love Jack, but I…Well, Lila’s feelings come first. Even more than mine.

I give my own thoughts a mental eye roll. I might as well just get myself a collar with her name on it, for as whipped as I am.

I’ve been sitting here trying to formulate some sort of plan, even trying to discern how in the hell the media might have gotten wind of this after so long—coming up with nothing on both fronts.

Are you dumb? She literally told you she was gonna tell.

“If I knew I was going to be accosted in my own home,” Jack grumbles, “I would not have given you the spare key to run off and fornicate on my couch.”

“That’s—” Ian’s mouth snaps shut, his eyes hard for a moment before softening slightly. I can see it, the minute that my Ian comes back to the moment—the kind protector I know him to be overriding his anger as his shoulders slump.

I wanted to hope that he could be the person you wanted him to be. Eventually.” Abby’s face crumples, her lip quivering as her eyes fill with tears. “But he won’t,” she whispers. “Will he? He doesn’t want me.” “Sweetheart,” Ian chokes.

“Yeah,” Jack huffs. “It’s a whole gross thing.” “Don’t be jealous, babe,” Ian calls, moving toward him. “I can give you kisses, too, if it helps.”

You’re nothing. Just some two-bit cake maker with a cable show no one cares about. Who the fuck cares what you think?” A flash of movement in the open door behind us catches my eye, but before I can even register it fully—hands grasp the sleeve of Bradley’s shirt, shoving him away as Ian’s broad body slams into his, his normally happy face teeming with unchecked anger as he practically spits at his father: “I do.”

“You like when I’m a brat,” I say sweetly, licking along his lower lip. “I love when you’re a brat,” he rumbles, his hands falling to the mattress to brace on either side of me.

“Oh no, is that my sister? She looks pretty lonely sitting up there. I know she’s the lesser of the Baker siblings, but come on, surely there’s someone out there who wants to kiss her?” A tap on my shoulder has me jolting, and suddenly Ian is plopping down in the seat beside me, still wearing his full gear save for his helmet and skates. His hair is damp with sweat, clinging to his temples, but his smile is bright, his freckles more prominent on his flushed face as he settles close. “What are you doing?” I hiss. He shrugs one shoulder. “Putting up my billboard.”

“All right, all right.” I hear Jack’s voice break through the haze of our bubble. “That’s quite enough of that. Can we please have our left wing back if he’s done making out with my sister? Apparently, they’re dating.

“We should hit a thrift shop when we’re done here. Find a new member of the Porcelain Pride to commemorate. For you, of course.” My lips twitch. “Oh, sure, totally for me.” “You know I’m always thinking about others,” she says sweetly.