Page 8 of False Start
My mother wraps me up in her arms, and her signature scent of vanilla and spiced cinnamon hits my nose, and I know I’m finally home, that I made the right choice.
Samantha Taylor is a beautiful woman. She’s shorter than me, has wavy brown hair that sits at her shoulders with dark green eyes that match Lainey’s, and a petite frame. My sister takes more after her in that department, my brothers following my dad in terms of height and stature.
I’m somewhere in the middle, getting my looks from my mother and my height from my dad. Compared to Mom and Lainey, my boobs are definitely bigger, with most of my weight in my stomach and hips.
Who’s ever going to see my body and love me when I’m not the typical standard of beauty?
Especially when I’ve struggled to really love myself for my entire life.
Sure, I have the brains. I graduated from UCLA with my degree in sports medicine, worked with countless teams, and I am now starting with the Blaze to further educate myself and hopefully stay long term.
It took a lot of hard work to get here, and while I doubted I was smart enough in high school, that quickly changed once I left for college.
Now, I just need to continue working on loving all of me.
I shake those thoughts from my mind and bury my face deeper into my mom’s neck, soaking in this embrace. Sure, my parents came to Los Angeles all the time to see me, and I saw my brothers when they played close by and I could make a game, but nothing compares to being inmy childhood home. I may have had my reasons for staying away, but I’m starting to realize that maybe that wasn’t the best choice. I needed my family, needed my people to come home to, and comfort me when the nights got too hard. When the loneliness crept in and it all became too much. Us Taylors stick together always, no matter what.
My mom steps away and cups my face in her hands. “My beautiful girl, I’m so happy to have you home.”
Tears fill her eyes, but she doesn’t let them fall. She has always been my rock, the strongest woman I’ve ever known.
“You just saw me less than a few months ago, Mom.” I smile at her.
“And that was too long ago. Just let your poor mother have this moment.”
I laugh as I let her hold me, not wanting to let go just yet.
Standing here surrounded by my family, I’m reminded of how good it feels to be home. The entire car ride here, hell the entire plane ride from L.A. to Florida, one thing has been on my mind—Jake.
The circumstances surrounding our breakup have been a huge topic of my therapy, and over the years, the urge to talk to him has grown. I’ve wanted to talk to him and finally hear his side of things, but I was always afraid of ruining everything again and hurting both of us, and being on the other side of the country became a good excuse for me to hide behind.
Now that I’m here with him, seeing him in person and thinking back on everything that’s happened between us, I know what I need to do.
I have to talk to Jake. We both deserve answers to our unspoken questions. He deserves to know why I left, and Ideserve to know the truth about that night, why he said what he said.
“I’m really glad for this little family reunion, but do we really have to do this at the front door? It’s hot as hell out here and I’m sweating,” Brayden grumbles behind us.
Mom huffs a laugh and rolls her eyes as she wipes the tears from her eyes. “Don’t sass me, young man. I haven’t seen your sister in six months, and I will damn well hug her wherever I please in my home. If you don’t like it, then you can find somewhere else to be.”
I hear a snicker followed by a cough and know that Brandon is trying to hide his reaction. I smile at this and pull away from my mom.
“Shouldn’t you be used to this weather, since, you know, we live in Florida?” Brandon teases.
Brayden sighs, staring daggers at his twin, before I reach over and grab his arm, tugging him inside with me.
“C’mon, grumpy, let’s go inside before you melt on our front doorstep,” I tease, and we all walk farther into the house. We pass under the stairs and enter the dining room that is attached to the kitchen. It’s an open floor plan, spacious enough to fit all six of us with more than enough room to breathe. We continue down a small hall that leads to the living room, where both my sister and my dad are waiting for us.
My sister traveled to L.A. a week ago to help me pack and spend some time with me. We bonded during this time and I was able to open up to her about a lot of things that I never told her before. When we got back to Florida, she dropped me off at the arena and brought my carry-on luggage home for me. The rest was shipped over, and my dad was able to get it and put it in storage as I wait till this upcoming weekend to move into my new apartment.
I was able to get an apartment in the same building the twins live in, but two floors down from them. They live separately, but right across the hall from each other. So if I ever need anything I know who to go to.
My dad stands from the couch and I rush over to him, wrapping my arms around him. While my mom is my rock, I’m a daddy’s girl at heart. He wraps me up in his arms, and I sigh into his embrace.
“I missed you, darling. We’re so glad to have you home.”
“I’m glad to be home, Dad.”
I may be a grown twenty-seven-year-old woman, but I will always need my dad. Nathan Taylor, former NHL superstar, six-time Stanley Cup winner with an amazing defensive career, may be big and broody, but he’s still my dad, and when any of us girls are around, his facade breaks and he melts for us.
