Georgia walks over to me, leans in, and whispers, “I can take him back out if you want to talk—or maybe light a candle to drown out the smell of sex in the air. I stashed a cinnamon candle in the guest room for when I stay the night. It smells like Fireball. I actually might have one in my car.” She pauses. “A candle, not Fireball, unfortunately, because it appears you two could really use a shot of some strong shit right now.”
Noah is blabbing about how he’s been playing with the toys he got for his birthday.
I massage my throat before answering, “I think that’s a good idea.”
Jamie is on the verge of losing it the longer she hears Noah talk about everything she’s been missing.
“Noah, my man,” Georgia calls out, and Noah turns to look at her. “Let’s go get some cupcakes!”
Jamie kisses the top of his head, tears hitting her cheeks, and scurries to the bathroom.
“Can I wait for Jamie to get back?” Noah asks. “She can come too!”
“No, I don’t think Jamie is feeling well,” Georgia says.
He frowns. “We’ll bring her one back then. I know her favorite-favorite-ist.”
Georgia squeezes his shoulders. “She’ll love that. Let’s get going before they’re all gone.” She glances at me. “I’ll call before we come back.”
“Thanks,” I mouth to her.
Noah hugs me good-bye, and they’re out the door a minute later.
“They’re gone,” I shout, an edge to my voice, and I meet Jamie in the living room.
“I need to go,” she rushes out before holding up her phone. “Everyone in my family is blowing me up.”
“And?” I hiss. “It’s your life.”
“My family is also my life! You and I both know what we have is sex—”
The fuck?
“Is that how you feel? Can you clarify what you’re thinking? Unless you forgot, fifteen minutes ago, I said I was falling in love with you. And correct me if I’m wrong, but you lit up like a fucking lamp when you heard me say it. That sure as hell doesn’t scream it’s only sex.”
She throws her arms up. “Yes! I’m in love with you! Yes! Hearing those words was everything I’ve ever wanted to hear, but do you honestly think we can make this work? You’ve had sex with both me and my sister!”
“This is different,” I grind out. “And you know it.”
“My family won’t see it that way.” She repeatedly shakes her head. “Other people won’t see it that way.”
A knot forms in my stomach, twisting in defeat, and I sit down on the edge of the couch. “Heather fucking ruins shit again.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her face just as broken as my heart.
“What was that then? A good-bye fuck?” Anger knots in my stomach next, overtaking the defeat. “Do you do that to all the guys you fuck over?”
She cringes at my harsh words. “Screw you! I didn’t come over here with the intention of us having sex.”
“What was your intention then?”
“I don’t know.” Her chin quivers. “I was sad. I needed someone.”
“Needed someone or needed me?”
“You!” she screams. “Goddammit, you!”
Her answer ignites a fire inside me.
I stand when she starts pacing, wrap my arms around her waist to stop her, and spin her to face me. “Why are you walking away from us? Why are you breaking your own heart?”
She peers up at me, her face puffier, her body quaking. “I can’t love you because I can’t keep you.”
I take a step back. “All right, I get it.”
She winces. “What?”
“Run away like your sister. I already know how to handle it.” I stalk across the room, open the door, and gesture for her to leave.
“Cohen,” she whispers, her eyes wide.
Anger pivots through me.
Fuck this.
Just as I never tracked down my father, just as I haven’t reached out to Heather, I’ll never beg for someone to love me.
For someone to stay with me.
If you don’t want me, you don’t fucking want me.
I’ll take it.
Sure, it’ll kill me to move on, but I’ll handle it.
I’m a strong man.
I can lock that cage back around my heart.
“You’re right,” I say, my throat tight. “We can’t keep each other. I already let one woman fuck with my head, one woman who made me doubt our love, and I refuse to do it again.”
“Cohen,” she repeats.
“Get out!” I scream. “I’m not playing these bullshit heart games—not with my feelings and damn sure not with my son’s on the line. We’ll act like you and I never happened and go back to how it was. I won’t take Noah away from you—for him, not you—but I won’t be giving you one more goddamn piece of me.”
She bows her head, the sobs back. “Okay.”
We don’t look at each other when she passes me.
When she lets us go.
I slam the door behind her.
Finn charges into my office.
I glance up from my paperwork and raise a brow.
He scratches his head. “You have a, uh … visitor.”
“Okay?”
“Heather is here.”
I flex my fingers around the pen in my hand. “Are you shitting me?”
He shakes his head. “You want me to tell her to kick rocks?”
Finn is my only friend who knows what Heather looks like. He went to school with us.
“Nah, I’ll handle it,” I answer, blood rushing to my ears. “Can you bring her back here?”
I can’t make a scene in my bar, and knowing Heather, there will be a scene.
Minutes later, Finn returns with Heather on crutches behind him. He doesn’t say a word before turning and walking out, shutting the door behind us.
Heather stands in front of me and doesn’t utter a word.
She’s waiting for me to take the lead, like the coward she is.
She’s different, she’s aged, yet she is still attractive. Honey-blonde hair similar to Jamie’s but thinner, no dimples like the woman I love, but she’s dressed sexy enough that men will be hitting on her here.
Not me, though.
There isn’t one cell in my body that wants her.
That will ever want her again.
She’s not my type. She’s not the one my heart beats for, who my body craves.
It’s her sister who does that.
Her sister, who has gripped my heart and owns it.
Her sister, who is a goddamn pain in my ass.
Her sister, who I haven’t spoken to in over a week.
I stand. “How dare you show up here? At my motherfucking business.”
She winces, shocked at my anger. “Jamie won’t tell me where you live, so I asked around, and this is where I was told to find you. When can we sit down and talk?”
The name of the woman I love sends a knife through my chest.
“I’d prefer fucking never.”
She releases a huff. “It’s going to happen. I won’t leave you alone until we talk this out.”
“What do you want?” I hiss. “We have nothing to talk out.”
“Hear me out.”
“Nope. Leave.”
“Please!”
Her begging sends a rush of memories through me.
Her begging reminds me of how I sounded when I was down on my knees, asking her not to leave us, pleading for her to at least stay for Noah.
“Fuck you,” I snarl. “Did you hear me out when I begged you? You don’t deserve one second of my time.”
Her eyes lower, and she gestures toward the crutches. “I was shot.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you, but it doesn’t change our relationship. I wish you the best, but stay away from us.”
“Why are you punishing our son from having a mother?”
“My son,” I seethe, hating that she referred to him as hers
. “Not yours.”
“You can think that all you want, but I’m still his mother. I gave birth to him.”
“News flash, Heather: you signed over your rights. According to the state, you are nothing to him.” The pressure from how hard my jaw is clamped down will give me a migraine by the end of this conversation.
“What about Jamie?” she snaps, jutting her chin out. “What is she to him? If I signed over my rights, she’s nothing too.”
I grip the edge of my desk, my nails biting into the wood. “This has nothing to do with Jamie.”
Her voice rises. “Yes, it does. Out of all the people to sleep with, my sister?”
“Leave before I have you escorted out.” The wood from my desk is chipping.
“Are you going to lie and say you aren’t fucking her?”
“Nope.”
We’re not fucking at this moment, so I’m not lying.
“Bullshit,” she spits. “I’m sure she didn’t wait long before jumping on your dick.”
Disgust sweeps up my throat that she’s talking about Jamie like that. “You need to leave.”
She scoffs. “God, what a whore. Sleeping with her sister’s ex.”
I slam my hand onto my desk, causing her to jump, and scream, “Don’t you dare talk about her like that. Jamie has nothing to do with what you did or why I don’t want you anywhere near my son.”
My voice is loud.
Booming.
Harsh enough that the entire bar can hear us.
At this point, when it comes to defending Jamie, I don’t care who hears.
She curls her upper lip. “Do you want to be selfish and make Noah grow up without a mother?”
“You’re the reason for that. Not me.”
Her shoulders slump, her voice turning whiny as she takes this conversation another route. “Cohen. Please. I made a mistake.”
Fuck, why does it seem like we’re talking in circles?
“You did, and I won’t make the mistake of letting you hurt my child again. Now, leave before I call someone to make you leave.”
The tears start, the vulnerability she tries to hide creeping through.
Heather isn’t heartless. There’s something inside her but not much.
Selfishness is her main trait.
“I’m sorry, okay! I want my life back!” she cries out.
“How convenient. You want it now that the Vegas life didn’t work out for you.”
“Do you want to know why he shot me?”
I stay quiet.
No.
Because I don’t want to feel sorry for her.
I want to keep hating her.
She doesn’t care that I don’t want to know. “He shot me because I didn’t get my period, and he was scared I was pregnant.”
I feel like an ass for rolling my eyes. “Considering he told you to leave your child, that isn’t a shocker to me.”
“I had a good man—you—and I messed it up.” Her eyes are vacant, her words low, and it’s almost as if she’s reading this from a script. “I’ll admit my wrongdoings. We weren’t perfect, but we were good. We loved each other.”
“That was the past.”
“Is this because of my sister? You think you two will create this happy-go-lucky family? How in the world do you think that won’t screw up Noah’s head more than allowing me in his life?”
Circles.
That’s all that’s happening.
How do I kick her out of here?
The office door flies open.
“Sorry we’re late,” Georgia says, glancing back at Noah while they walk into the office. “This little guy talked me into stopping for ice cream.”
She comes to a halt and shoves Noah behind her when she looks up and sees Heather. Disbelief and disgust cover her face, and I hold my breath, praying Heather doesn’t utter a word to him.
The look on Georgia’s face is terrifying to me.
I hope Heather feels the same way and doesn’t want the wrath of my sister.
Georgia turns around, being sure she blocks Noah from seeing Heather, and kneels in front of him. “Why don’t you go into Archer’s office? He’s in there.” She playfully pokes him in the shoulder, but I notice her hand is shaking as she does it. “Let him know I told you where his candy stash is and to share with you.”
Noah’s eyes light up, and I’m happy Heather can’t see them.
Can’t see how great of a kid he is.
How his heart is so much different than hers.
“Really?” Noah says excitedly.
“Really,” Georgia answers, whipping around and shutting the door as soon as he runs out of the room. A sneer is pointed in my direction. “What the fuck is she doing here?”
“I—” Heather starts.
Georgia raises her hand, cutting her off, and finally pays Heather a glance. “I didn’t ask you. I asked my brother.”
Heather glares at Georgia.
“If you’re here to right your mistake, it’s too late.” Georgia’s eyes, filled with fury, return to me. “I hope you agree with me.”
I nod. “I’ve explained that a good hundred times.”
Does it seem like we’re ganging up on Heather?
Probably, but she can leave whenever she wants.
“If you need me to make her leave, I will,” Georgia spits.
Heather rolls her eyes but doesn’t move.
I tilt my head toward the door and rest my eyes on my sister. “Give us a minute. I don’t want you getting in any trouble.”
Curses fly from her mouth, and she gives Heather one last glare before leaving my office.
“He’s so big.” Heather releases a heavy sigh. “He looks like you, but he has my hair. He has my face.”
He does, and I fucking hate it.
“Leave, Heather.” I stalk to the door and jerk it open. “This is the last time I’ll tell you. Leave. No one wants you here.”
Her face falls, a single tear slipping down her cheek, and she slowly leaves the room, shooting me glances over her shoulder as if she’s waiting for me to stop her.
I don’t.
Call me a heartless bastard. I don’t give a shit.
My heart beats for my son, and I’ll stop anyone from hurting his.
29
Jamie
I’m walking out of the hospital, tired from a long shift, when my phone rings.
I pull it out of my bag to see Cohen’s calling.
We haven’t spoken since I left his house with tears in my eyes and regret in my heart.
I unlock my car with the remote in one hand and answer his call with the other, “Hello?”
“Tell your sister to stay the fuck away from us,” he says, raw anger in his voice.
I stop before sliding into my car. “What?”
“She came to the bar, asking to see Noah, begging for her family back.”
“What?” Apparently, that’s the only word I can manage at the moment. I open the car door, toss my bag into the passenger seat, and get in.
“Make it clear that if she does it again, I’ll have her arrested for trespassing.”
“I told her it was a bad idea. I’m sorry.” I’ve told her multiple times, yet here I am, apologizing for Heather’s bad behavior.
“Tell her again. It should be easy since you’re roommates.”
“Not by choice and hopefully not much longer since I’ve told her to move out a few dozen times.”
He stays quiet.
“I’ll talk to my parents, ask them to make it clear she stay away from you. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too,” he grumbles. “For being a dick.” He releases a harsh breath. “I’m pissed, exhausted, and fed up with the bullshit.”
I shut my eyes while taking in his miserable-sounding tone. “I understand.”
“Noah wants to see you.”
My eyes flash open, but before I can say anything, he continues, “Georgia is cool with you coming over and hanging out. She’s
watching him tonight if you want to stop by.”
It’s my turn to sound miserable. “We’re back to that now? Back to having restrictions to hanging out with him? I thought you said you wouldn’t do this, that you’d never take Noah away from me.”
“This isn’t me giving you restrictions. This is me making sure shit doesn’t turn complicated.”
My head aches. “What time?”
“Six.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Cool. I’ll give Georgia a heads-up.”
We share a quick good-bye, nothing like the soft good-night tones he once gave me, and I hang up to call my mom.
Our relationship has taken a turn, and we’ve become distant since she questioned me about Cohen. When we do speak, he isn’t brought up. Our conversations need to be centered around me asking when the hell Heather will be out of my house. If it wasn’t for my mother’s pleas not to kick her to the curb, it’d already be done. I tell her Cohen’s threat about having Heather arrested for trespassing, and she swears to have a word with her.
“I said I wanted you out,” I say when I walk into my house to find Heather on the couch, munching on my Cheetos.
It’s become almost a daily game between us.
Like with my mother, our conversations are limited to me asking her to leave and her asking if it’s because I’m sleeping with Cohen.
Heather tosses her head back. “Look, Jamie, I’m sorry for how everything went down and how shitty I’ve treated you since moving in. You’re right. I should be grateful you’re letting me into your home. I’ve been anything but that. I don’t understand why you’re so angry with me, though.”
I drop my bag onto a chair but snatch it back up, not wanting to risk Heather rifling through it. I’ve already caught her in my bedroom a few times and lied about setting up a camera, so she’d stay out of it. Not that I have Cohen shoved into my closet or anything, but that’s my private space.
“I’m angry because you called Mom and told her I was sleeping with Cohen,” I reply with a straight face. “You damaged my relationship with Mom by spouting out shit you know nothing about.”
“I was angry, which I have every right to be,” she spews out, placing the Cheetos to the side. She delivers a forced smile. “We all make mistakes. I’m sure you regret sleeping with my son’s father, and I forgive you.”
Stirred (Twisted Fox Book 1) Page 19