My gut clenches.
Hospital. Ryan.
Those two words should never be used in the same sentence.
Luckily, when Jen called earlier, she said the doc told her Ryan’s going to heal up fine. The second surgery on his leg seems to have done the trick.
Eleven-year-olds don’t always use the best judgment. This one especially.
But, I’d bet he won’t go jumping off the roof again anytime soon. He completely missed the trampoline. Good thing he was wearing his football helmet, no telling what kind of damage his hard head would’ve done to the backyard.
That kid—if he doesn’t learn his boundaries…shit, who am I kidding? His dad never knew his, and I sure as fuck never knew mine. I was probably lucky to make it to adulthood.
For the first time since yesterday, I pick up my phone and scroll through my texts.
The three from Kelsey still sit there, unanswered. The last one is from four days ago. She only sent one each day for three days. Then they stopped.
She’s pissed.
Her last text says it all.
-Don’t worry. I won’t come after you for anything. I’ll handle this on my own.-
I’m an ass, and it might be wrong to wait until I can see her face to face. But talking through email, texts, or even on the phone about something so huge, doesn’t seem right.
Plus, with everything going on here, I haven’t had the time or energy to worry about a baby…a baby I never thought I’d father. A baby with a woman who didn’t even want to be with me two days before we last saw each other, because we were heading in different directions.
We might’ve been. But what about now?
What’s she going to do about the baby?
What do I want her to do?
Or could she have already done something?
Fuck. Maybe she did. Shit.
I type out a reply to her last text.
-Don’t do anything yet. I should be home in a couple of days. Let’s talk.-
I get no answer from her. Not that I deserve one.
I don’t.
I down my whiskey and push the empty glass toward the barkeep. “Another.”
“You driving this guy?” He raises an eyebrow at Romans.
Romans holds his empty out for a refill. “Fuck no. We have to do our part to keep the cabbies in business, right, Hardick?”
“Cabbies. Business. Abso-fucking-lutely.” My tongue is thick and possibly hairy.
Wait—when did my tongue grow hair?
Glasses filled, we salute one another.
I lift mine a bit higher. “To Carter Shulls, and all of our fallen brothers.”
Romans nods. “Hear, hear.”
We slam our drinks back.
“Romans, you’re a helluva friend. Anyone ever tell you that?”
His eyes go wide, and he points to himself. “Me?”
I slap him on his shoulder. “Yes, you, motherfucker. You flew all the way down here to drink with me.”
He shakes his head. “Naw. I didn’t come down here to drink with you. I am drinking with you, but that’s not why I came.”
“You didn’t?” I try to focus on his face, but he blurs in and out. Something must be wrong with him. “Then why’re you here?”
“I came because you’re a stubborn son-of-a-bitch who needs a rectal craniectomy. The drinking is a bonus. I’ll yank your head outta your ass tomorrow.”
“Oh. Okay.” I slump on my stool. Then his words register in my muddled mind. “Hey. Wait a minute…”
Romans shoves another drink into my hand. “Shut up and drink, asshole. You called. I came. Leave it at that.”
I down the drink.
Kelsey’s image lingers on my mind. It always circles around to her. Every thought comes back to her. “She’s the only one, you know?”
“I know.” He nods. “You’ll get her back.”
I lean toward him, whispering, “How do you know?”
“Because, life has shit on you enough. And you’re a good guy. One of the best I know.”
Carter said that to me once. Then he was gone. I can’t let anything happen to Romans before he knows how much he means to me. “I love you too, dickwad. You’re like a brother to me.”
Romans clinks his glass to mine and takes another shot. I follow suit.
“But she—she don’t want me. You know? And my dumbass dog. He stole her food, and then he humped her mom. I think that pissed her off. It would’ve pissed me off. Then I thought I had her back. But then—daaaamn. A baby? That surprised the shit outta me. And I had to go help Jen. Now, well now—I’m just stupid.”
A thump on the back of my head makes the room sway and the ceiling spin. I look to my left and right. Wait. No. I look to my right and then my left. Or—ah, fuck it.
Wow. Look at all the shoes. Boots, sneakers, and girl shoes—whatever those’re called. There’s a red one. Not like Kelsey’s, but…reminds me of her and her legs. And her ass. And her sugar glider. And her sweet heart.
And that reminds me of the way she takes care of Clarissa. And how she stood up to that fuck-face she was married to. The way she looks at me, her blue eyes trusting and—
The world takes a spin around my head. I swipe at my eyes, trying to slow it down.
Rex’s face blurs in and out before clearing. “You all right?”
I give him a thumbs-up. “Course I am. Why are you way up there?”
He comes closer. “Because I’m not on the floor. You are.”
“Dude, if I crawl to her house on my hands and knees, do you think she’d take me back? If I vow my undying love and devotion? If I—”
The heaviness in my brain pulls me under its cloak.
Lights flash on the other side of my eyelids, but they’re too heavy to lift and check out what’s going on.
“Fuck, Hardick, you’re a heavy son of a bitch. Wake your ass up and help me. I’m a one-legged motherfucker. I can’t haul your drunk ass everywhere.”
I crack one dry eye enough to see Romans’ ugly mug. “Back the fuck off, man. You’re in my space.”
“Your space is in this cab—this guy wants his seat back. Roll the fuck outta there.”
I fall out of the cab.
Damn. The ground is way closer than I thought it’d be.
I manage to get to my feet, but almost trip. “Hey, who wrinkled the pave-pave-mint?”
“This way, Hardick.” Romans calls. “Follow the sound of my voice. We’re gonna get you inside before you pass out and I have to leave your ass in the street for the night.”
I pry my eyes open. Kelsey’s front door beckons me.
Her house staggers toward me, while the walkway grabs at my feet.
Hands grip my arms, but I won’t be deterred. I twist out of Romans’ grasp.
“I need to tell her.” I cup my hands around my mouth and holler. “Kelsey! Beau-ful Girl, c’mere! You need to know sumpin’.”
“Dude. You’re going to wake the neighbors.”
“Fuck the neighbors. Kelsey!” I manage to out-maneuver Romans and get to her porch first. “Ha! I beat you, mutha- fuckah.”
“Kiss my crippled ass. I only have one leg. Beating me anywhere ain’t much to brag about.”
Banging on her door, I lean my forehead against it as I yell. “Beau-ful Girl! I need you.”
The light flips on and suddenly, I’m falling—face-first into Kelsey’s entryway.
Whoa.
“What on Earth?” Her sweet voice is a balm to my buzzing head.
“I’m so sorry. I tried to get his drunk ass to his house, but—”
“Romans, stop.” I hold up a hand. “We needa t-t-talk, Kels.”
A little black and white face peeks around Kelsey’s ankle.
Kelsey says, “From here, it looks like you need to go to bed.”
“Firsly, I havta tell you…I don’t wanchoo to go on da-dates with other fuckers. I mean, guys. I’m the only man you need. Sides, I’m the daddy.”
&
nbsp; I roll to my back so I can see her beautiful fa—
Oops. Wish I hadn’t done that.
Hard, blue eyes glare, and her mouth is a thin line.
“Sorry, Adam, but you don’t always get what you want. And I’ll be the one to decide what I need.”
“But I-I-I love you, Kels-Kelskey.”
She lets out a huff and crosses her arms. “Just because you finally got your rocks off, doesn’t mean you love me. That’s the liquor talking for your dick.”
I shake my head as my heart shrivels. “No. You gotta—I havta make ya understand—”
“I do understand, Adam. What you love is your cock getting its own. But don’t worry. Now that you’ve worked through that issue, I’m sure you won’t have that problem with anyone else. You’re probably good to go from here forward. And don’t worry about that daddy thing. I’ll take care of that.”
My mouth feels numb, so I touch it, to make sure it’s still there.
It’s there. Maybe she just can’t hear me right.
I talk louder to help her out. “No. Thas not it.”
“Shush. You’re going to wake up Clarissa.”
“Aw. I wanna see Clarissa. She’s so freaking cu-cute.” I twist to catch Romans’ attention. “Dude! Kelsey has the sleetest lil’ girl. Quiet, but f-fucking awesome. I love that Pip.”
She tosses a disgusted look to Romans. “Take him home. Please.”
Suddenly, the world blacks out, and my nose sears with pain as a spiked trap clamps down on it. A handful of little needles stab my face and a couple dig into my ear. “Yow! What the hells?”
“Oh my gosh. Chloe! No. Bad kitty.” Kelsey drags the cat from my face, tiny claws surely leaving permanent marks across my cheeks.
I grab my nose. “That lil’ sh-shit bit me.”
Rex pushes his hands beneath me. “C’mon, Hardick. You’re gonna have to help me get you vertical.”
I’m exhausted. All of my energy is gone, and I can’t think no more. “I don’t wanna be versical. Jus lemme shleep here.”
I roll into a ball.
I’ll only nap for a minute. Then I’ll convince Kelsey that I love her, not just my cock.
TWENTY-ONE
I shut the bedroom door to block the whiskey-wheeze coming from the living room.
At least we were able to get him completely inside, instead of half in and half out of the doorway. His friend from the fundraiser seemed fine with leaving him on my porch, if need be. Of course, he wasn’t exactly sober either.
I guess I got lucky that I don’t have two guys sleeping it off on my living room floor. Ron or Ralph or—Oh, Rex…he went over to crash at Adam’s place. I think. I hope.
Why is it that drinking always makes people love everyone they see? Or hate them. I guess it works both ways.
He loves me. My ass, he loves me.
He wouldn’t have ignored my texts for so long if he loved me. Would he?
I shove my feet under the sheet, yanking the covers to my chin. Crossing my arms over the blanket, I close my eyes.
I twitch. I itch. I scratch. I roll to the left. To the right.
I open my eyes.
I stare at the darkened ceiling.
Wonder if he’s cold? The temperature for the air conditioner is set kind of low.
No. He deserves to be cold.
Drunken dumbass.
Then again, he’d make sure I was comfortable. He always does.
I let out a sigh and throw the covers off.
After I dig out an extra pillow and blanket from the top of the linen closet, I tiptoe into the living room.
Adam sprawls across the floor. His face is relaxed. The scratches Chloe marked him with are dark, while the scar on his chin seems to have all but disappeared, hidden in the shadows, with the nightlight casting its glow over him.
My heart hitches.
He’s so perfectly gorgeous.
I push a pillow under his head.
He mutters, “I wanna be the one.”
I slip the blanket over his muscular form, softened somehow with sleep.
His nostrils flare, and he tosses his head to the side. “You gotta believe me.”
I tuck the covers under his arms.
As I pull away, his big hand grabs my wrist. I tug, but he won’t let go.
“Don’t leave.”
“Adam?” I whisper.
Is he even awake?
His voice softens. “Please don’t leave me.”
I lean in to kiss his forehead. “I’m going to bed.”
Adam pushes the covers aside and drags me down next to him. “Stay.”
He entwines his arms and legs with mine as he pulls me closer. I swallow the heated knot in the back of my throat as I relax against his body.
God, I’ve missed these arms.
My back has longed for his chest to be pressed hard against it. I’ve craved the feel of him wrapped around me—and the way he warms my soul.
I’ll stay here for a little while. He’ll let go of me soon, and I’ll sneak away. But, for the moment, it won’t hurt if I soak this up—a bonus chance to have him hold me for the last time.
The tears blur my vision, so I blink them away. A couple of renegades escape and make a path down my cheek. I pull in a shuddering breath.
I can’t let him get to me. Just because he thinks he wants me, doesn’t mean he does.
And my wanting him isn’t enough to make this work.
A baby is a lot of stress on a relationship. Trying to make it work because of one would be asinine.
I have to be strong. For me and for Clarissa. And this baby.
And I will.
I’ll be strong.
Tomorrow.
* * *
Adam’s fingertips glide along my arm. My head rests on his bicep, and his breaths keep rhythm with mine. I keep my eyes closed.
A minute longer—then I’ll stop him. I’ll give myself this moment of bliss before it’s ruined.
I steel myself for another bad day and crack my lids.
A beady little eye hangs from a string and stares me down. I try to pull back, but there’s nowhere to go since I’m already on my back, and the critter keeps coming closer.
“Good morning, Larry Bear.” I push the one-eyed teddy away.
Clarissa sits astride Adam’s belly, still in her jammies, the bear in her clutches as she bounces and giggles.
He pulls his arm from beneath me and picks her up, lifting her high. Her legs bicycle in the air, but she throws her arms out to the sides like an airplane and grins down on us.
He swings Clarissa over his head, setting her down on the carpet. “All right, Pipsqueak. Let’s give your mom a minute to wake up. How about you and me go get some breakfast started?”
Breakfast? “Aren’t you hung over?”
He rolls to me and kisses my temple. His face is a scratched up mess, and his nose has bite marks on both sides.
“Hangovers are for puss—” His eyes dart to Clarissa. “Um, wimps.”
I grin. “It’s not like she’s going to repeat it. But, thank you for being mindful of little ears.”
He hops up and allows Clarissa to drag him to the kitchen as though he wasn’t in this very spot last night, drunk as hell and declaring his love for me right before he passed out. No hangover. No headache.
My stomach clenches and convulses.
Oh. Shit.
I clamp my hand over my mouth and make a run for the toilet.
Well, I guess I’ll have his hangover for him.
I take my time in the bathroom, even after the nausea passes and I’m cleaned up.
Will Adam even remember last night?
Will he say anything about me all curled up next to him?
I slept on the floor, and it was the best sleep I’ve had since he last held me through the night.
I let out a ragged breath and head to the kitchen.
Clarissa stands in a chair, the biggest spoon I own in hand, stirring what mig
ht be pancake batter, except it’s gray.
Adam dumps a handful of chocolate chips into the bowl. “There, that ought to make them perfect.”
A fine layer of flour dust covers almost every surface, along with Clarissa and Adam. Goo leaks from a broken egg—off the edge of the counter, dripping onto the floor.
I scrape the eggshell and what’s left of the mess that goes with it into my hand. “Is this breakfast or a science experiment gone bad?”
“Maybe both. Clarissa wanted a rainbow in her pancake. Problem is, the colors all mixed together, and now, we have that.” He indicates the bowl.
I rinse my hands. “How do you know she wanted rainbow pancakes?”
“She told me.”
My heart stutters. “What? She told you? What did she say?”
His eyes go wide.
“Oh. No. Sorry.” He nods to the drawing on the fridge. Five lines of different colors stripe the page. “She didn’t tell me with words. She pointed to the picture.”
“And you got rainbow pancakes from that?”
He grins. “Well, it took a minute and a few tries, but she does know how to clap and giggle. So when I got it right, she let me know.”
I press my hand to my heart, and all the mushiness I’ve ever felt sweeps in. “I-I—”
Watching Adam with Clarissa, the way he talks to her, listens to what she says when she’s not uttering a word, the way he keeps tossing looks my way, as though he’s pleading with me to hear what he’s saying—it’s almost more than I can bear.
He lets Clarissa feed him a giant spoonful of raw, gray pancake batter and he smacks and grins, telling her how delicious it is. A hot tear finds its way out of the corner of my eye.
Can he love her? Does he really love me like he said last night? Will he love this baby and stick around to see it grow up?
The doorbell peals, saving me from making an idiot of myself over this man, this man I have no idea how to read. Obviously, he isn’t what I thought, or maybe—oh hell, I don’t even know.
“I’ll get it. Don’t let her fall off the chair.”
Adam salutes. “Yes, ma’am.”
Matt stands on my porch.
Great, just who I was hoping to see—never.
The nausea roars back to life, but I hold my ground.
So Long: Bad Boy Next Door Page 19