“You’d be pissed.”
“Different circumstances, Jamie. Different fucking circumstances.”
My heart breaks as I gather the strength to do what I don’t want to but what needs to be done. “Last night was a bad idea. Can we act like it never happened and go back to normal?”
I hate myself for this.
For throwing away last night.
For making it seem like it was nothing to me.
A ragged breath leaves him. “Wow, be just like her.”
“What … what do you mean?”
“Turn your back on us because shit gets a little complicated.”
“This is different.” I sniffle, pulling in a few breaths to stop myself from breaking down. “I’m not turning my back on anyone.”
“You want to go back to us avoiding each other? Done.”
He ends the call.
26
Cohen
I slept on the couch last night.
As soon as I got into bed, my sheets smelled like Jamie.
I ripped them off, stomped to the laundry room like Noah does during his tantrums, and threw them in the washer.
My mind is dead.
My heart is dead.
This isn’t a situation you can easily ask advice on.
It’s different. Unconventional. Confusing.
I’m not a heartless bastard. I feel bad for Heather, but that doesn’t mean I’ll forgive her.
That I’ll give her a pass for her absence and let her hop back into our lives.
She was the heartless one when she walked out.
Noah bounces in his seat after finishing his oatmeal. “Can I FaceTime Jamie?”
I stop rinsing out his orange juice glass. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea right now. She’s out of town.”
I haven’t talked to Jamie since I hung up on her.
Noah slides off his seat and disappears from the kitchen. I snatch his bowl and am on my way to the sink when I hear the FaceTime ringtone blasting through the living room. I peek around the corner to find Noah with his iPod in his hand, smiling as he stares into the screen.
He waves into the camera when the call is answered. “Hi! I called to see Jamie.”
“Jamie ran to the restroom, but I can talk to you for a moment. Do you remember me?”
I throw the bowl into the sink, hearing it shatter, and I rush into the living room. I snatch the iPod from him as if he’d been watching porn and end the call.
Noah frowns, reaching out to take the iPod from me, but I pull away. “Why’d you hang up?”
“That wasn’t Jamie,” I answer, nearly out of breath.
“I know,” he chirps. “It was her sister. I met her when I went swimming.”
The iPod rings, and a selfie of Jamie and Noah pops up on the screen.
I decline the call.
“We’ll call Jamie later, okay?” I say.
“But why?”
“How about I take you to get some frozen yogurt?”
That changes his mind, and ten minutes later, we’re in the car.
“You look like hell,” Archer says. “What happened?”
“I’m fucked.” I swipe my beer from the bar and take a long swig.
It’s after hours, and I typically don’t stay late, but I need a beer, time to clear my head. Georgia is watching Noah, and I instructed her not to let him talk to Jamie. I hid his iPod in the glove compartment of the Jeep. I’m not taking any chances of him seeing Heather again.
“Fucked in a good way or a bad way?”
“Jamie and I hooked up—again. Only this time, we actually fucked.”
He only nods, giving me his full attention, and waits for me to continue.
“The next morning, she got a call that her sister—my ex—was admitted into the hospital.”
“Oh shit, what happened?”
“Her husband had shot her.”
“Damn. Wasn’t expecting you to say that.” He pours himself a whiskey straight and carries the bottle with him as he sits down next to me. “Have you talked to Jamie?”
“She and her parents went to Vegas, where Heather is.” I drag my hand through my hair. “I should’ve kept my hands to myself. I messed this up for Noah. If Jamie disappears from his life, it’ll kill him.”
“Jamie doesn’t seem like the type to run away from Noah because shit didn’t work out between you two.”
I pull at the wrapper on my beer. “Never say never. Heather didn’t seem like the type to walk out on her family, but she did, leaving my son without a mother. I don’t put anything past anyone anymore.”
I sound like a whiny asshole, but I’m lost.
Lost with no one to talk to.
Sure, Georgia is always there for me, but this goes beyond a chat with my little sister.
Archer claps me on the shoulder. “I’m here for you, man. If you need time off, I got you. I’d say I’m good for advice, but you know I’m shit at this. Silas, Finn, hell, even Georgia are better options for a heart-to-heart than I am.”
I grab the bottle and drink straight from it. “Bullshit. You say that to scare people off. There’s a heart buried in that cold chest of yours.”
“Words of wisdom or not, I have your back.”
“When will I see Jamie again?” Noah asks, his lower lip sticking out while I tuck him into bed.
It’s the fifth time he’s asked that tonight. That’s not counting the times he’s asked to FaceTime her.
“I told you, she’s out of town,” I answer for the fifth time.
We haven’t spoken since I ended our call her first night in Vegas. I’ve debated on calling her back, but I decide against it every time.
She hasn’t reached out either.
Maybe it’s for the best.
Maybe Noah will forget about her.
Doubt it.
I can’t forget about her.
“When she gets back, can we go on another trip together?”
I tap his forehead. “Hey now, you know that was your birthday trip. You have to wait until your next one, silly goose.”
He giggles as I tickle him, hoping it’ll take his mind off Jamie.
It doesn’t.
“Can Jamie come too?”
“We’ll see.”
“Can we turn Jamie into my mom?”
I freeze, my hand covering my mouth, and my heart breaks for my son. “No, we can’t.”
Just like I was straight-up with him about Heather, I need to do the same with Jamie.
No false promises for my son.
“Why not?” he whines.
“Jamie is our friend.” I pat his bed. “That’s it.”
“Can’t she be my friend and my mom? Ricky’s mom isn’t his real mom. His real mom died, and then his daddy married another woman. Ricky calls her mom now. He says kids get new moms and dads all the time. Can I do that too?” He sighs. “Let me ask Jamie. She’ll say yes. I’ll FaceTime her tomorrow.”
The iPod is going in the trash.
It’s getting burned.
No way is Noah going near it again.
I squeeze his side. “You can’t ask her that. Jamie is just our friend. I’m not marrying her.”
“Will I have another mommy like Ricky someday?” His voice breaks at the end, and the hurt on his face kills me.
I smile gently. “Yes. Someday.”
I’ll give him hope on that.
I can’t stay a single man forever.
He perks back up. “It’d be so cool. Ricky’s new mom makes him peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in the shape of dinosaurs! Dinosaurs, Dad!”
I’m going to kick Ricky’s dad’s ass if his kid doesn’t stop telling mine stories.
I’ve never been a crier, but goddamn it, I’m close to losing my shit.
That can’t happen in front of him.
My stomach twists at the same time as my eyes water.
“You need to get some sleep.”
He nods. “Night, night. Love you, Dad.”
>
“I love you too.”
I cover my face when I reach my bedroom and gain control of myself.
Then I get on Amazon and search for fucking dinosaur cutouts for sandwiches.
27
Jamie
“Your sister is coming home and moving in with you.”
We’re in the hotel’s restaurant having dinner, and I wince and stare at my mom, waiting for her to tell me she’s kidding.
She doesn’t, and I take that as my cue to chug my wine.
“I’m sorry, what?” I ask, setting the empty glass down.
“Heather agreed to divorce Joey and move home.”
My mother’s face lights up in happiness, and I feel bad that I’m about to burst that bubble.
“Mom, that’s not a good idea.”
“Heather doesn’t want to be thirty, living with her parents—”
“Thirty and living with her sister is better?”
“Jesus, have some compassion. She was shot!”
That’s all I’m going to hear about for years.
Anytime Heather wants something from me, they’ll throw that in my face.
She recovered quickly, and we found out the bullet had barely grazed her. She’s in pain but walking with the assistance of crutches.
We’ve been here for a week, and I’m going home tomorrow.
Apparently, Heather is coming home with me.
I’m not trying to be a bitch, but my parents have more patience with her than I do, and the old Heather—the heartless Heather—is returning with each day we visit.
“I have plenty of compassion for her, but you know we don’t get along,” I say. “She’d do much better with you and Dad helping her get her life in order.”
A wrinkle forms on my mother’s forehead as she scrunches up her face. “I already told her yes. She’s not asking for much, Jamie. Give her this. Give your father and me this.”
“Mom—”
“We already told her yes.”
“You can’t approve someone to move into my home without asking me.”
My mom delivers a skeptic look. “We didn’t think it’d be an issue.” She sighs. “Heather also plans to reach out to Cohen about Noah. She thought staying with you would be a great way to ease him into it, make him feel more comfortable.”
“That’s not a good idea.” I refuse to be used as a stepping stool for Heather.
My mom pats my hand. “Heather is finally growing up, sweetie.”
I pick at my chicken. “That’s nice, given she’s in her thirties.”
“Not everyone is as responsible as you,” my dad inputs, staring down at me over his newspaper. It’s not an insult; it’s a compliment.
“You need to quit bailing her out,” I argue. “Let her move home—move in with you. She doesn’t always have to get her way.”
“No one is bailing her out, honey,” my mom continues. “She’s moving home and needs a helping hand.”
“Will she get a job? Sit around my place all day? What’s the plan here?”
“She plans to work, yes.”
I stay quiet.
“This isn’t a yes or no thing,” my father finally chimes in. “Do this for your sister. Give it a month, and we’ll find her an apartment.”
“Fine.” I stand from the table. “I need to pack my bags.”
I leave the restaurant and take the elevator to my room. I fish my phone from my pocket, curses flying in the process, and go to my call log. That’s when I notice a FaceTime call from Noah from a few days ago.
It’s not a missed call, and I haven’t talked to them since Cohen hung up on me.
I FaceTime Noah first.
No answer.
With a nervous breath, I FaceTime Cohen next.
Declined.
Seconds later, he calls through with a normal voice call.
“You want to tell me why Heather answered a FaceTime call with Noah the other day?” is what he says after I answer.
Whoa.
It’s a smack in the face.
Heather never told me that.
Sure, I left my phone in her room a few times when I ran to the restroom or the vending machines, and I let her borrow it to make calls.
I grab my suitcase and start packing. “I had no idea that happened. I’m sorry, Cohen.”
“Not to be a dick, but I don’t want you FaceTiming Noah until you’re home and she’s not around.”
Oh no.
Cohen will take this worse than I did.
I bite into my lip. “I need to tell you something.”
“What’s up?”
“Heather is moving home.”
“Goddammit,” he hisses. “Tell her to stay away from us. We live in a different town, so it shouldn’t be an issue.”
Wait, there’s more.
“She’s moving in with me.” I hold my breath, waiting for a reaction I know won’t be pretty.
“Oh, is she?”
“I had no choice in the matter. I tried to say no, but my parents insisted and put me on a guilt trip.”
“I get it. Heather has a way of always getting what she wants,” he scoffs. “I’m not trying to sound like an asshole, but I’m frustrated.”
I plop down on my bed next to my suitcase. “I don’t want this to stop me from seeing Noah.”
“No way am I letting him around her.”
“What if he comes over when she’s gone?” It’s not like the three of us can hang out now without it being weird anyway. I chew on my nails while waiting for his answer.
“She can pop up at any time.”
I chomp into one extra hard and spit it out, taking my Heather anger out on my manicure. “Looks like I’ll go back to doing visits at your house with Georgia.”
“We’ve really fucked this up, haven’t we? You were right. We shouldn’t have crossed that line. It was a mistake.”
A mistake.
God, it hurts when he says that.
Did it stab a knife through his heart the same way when I said them to him?
“Is that Jamie?” I hear Noah ask in the background.
“Yes,” Cohen answers. “Would you like to talk to her?”
Seconds later, Noah speaks through the speaker, “Hi, Jamie!”
“Hi, honey,” I say, his voice relaxing me.
“Can I come over and hang out? Can we get cupcakes?”
I laugh. “I’m actually out of town right now, but what about when I get back?”
“Yes! Can Dad come too?” The call goes quiet for a moment, and I can hear low whispers. “Dad said I need to get ready for bed. Good night!”
“Good night,” I whisper with a twinge of loneliness.
I miss them.
I wait for Cohen to take over the call, but he hangs up.
“Honey, I’m home!”
A stiffness forms in my jaw.
My head aches, and I roll my eyes before anyone comes into view.
Heather crutches herself into my house like she already owns it with my parents behind her. She does a once-over of the place. “Kinda small.” Her eyes flash to me. “Tell me my bedroom is a decent size.”
My attention snaps to my mother, and she mouths, “Be patient,” to me.
“Mom will show you your bedroom,” I reply flatly from the couch.
Her hand flicks in the air as she follows my mom to the guest bedroom. I washed all the bedding, set up the features on the smart TV, and added a few candles, hoping to at least make it homey for her.
Also hoping she’ll find her bedroom comfortable enough to spend all her time in there.
“Are you sure Jamie won’t let me have the master?” I hear Heather ask.
My father sits down in a chair, concern etched into his forehead when he looks at me. “Thank you, Jamie. I know this will be hard, and I’ll try to get her out of here as soon as I can, but this is for your mother.”
I nod. “The faster, the better.” I groan when I hear Heather complaining about the size of
her TV next. I lean forward and lower my voice. “Her apartment was a hellhole compared to my house. What’s her deal?”
My father lifts his arms and then drops them back onto the armrests in frustration. “I know just as much as you do.”
“Can I have some money to get clothes until Pat mails mine?” Heather asks when they return to the living room.
“What about borrowing some from your sister?” my dad asks, shooting me an apologetic look.
Heather pays a glance at me before scrunching up her nose. “Jamie and I don’t exactly have the same style.”
I glance from the scrubs I’m wearing to her tight jeans, low-cut top, and crutches. While she was in the hospital, she complained that her crutches would ruin her outfits.
Definitely a different style.
Not that I’m judging her style, but I don’t like the way she’s judging mine.
Heather sits on the arm of a chair—an expensive chair that doesn’t carry a sturdy arm—and I grit my teeth to stop myself from yelling at her.
“I’ll also need toiletries and a phone. Joey paid all our bills and shut mine off.”
My dad pulls himself up from the chair with a groan. “I need to run to my office. Your mother will take you out for things tomorrow, and until then, you can borrow Jamie’s phone when needed.”
Another apologetic look from him is shot my way.
The look I shoot his way is annoyed.
I hug them good-bye and kiss their cheeks before they leave.
Heather doesn’t.
She mutters a good-bye, heads to the kitchen, and rummages through my fridge. “A little help in here please.”
When I walk into the kitchen, she has a Coke in her hand, and there’s a bag of chips and a bottle of wine on the counter.
My favorite wine.
“Pour that into a glass and carry those for me, will ya?” she asks, heading back into the living room without waiting for my response.
I roll my eyes, release a breath, and open the wine bottle. When I return with the glass of wine and chips, she’s on the couch. I take a seat in a chair and cringe as she loudly starts chomping on the chips while double-fisting her drinks as if the Coke is the chaser to the wine.
I sit up straight and focus on the news playing on the TV.
Stirred (Twisted Fox Book 1) Page 17