Friend Zone Series Box Set

by Blanchard, Nicole

  I could only stare down at Tillie who’d taken a seat next to me, momentarily shaken, when I realized she was staring up at me as she sucked back her juice. She blinked owlishly, and her throaty little grunts made me smile.

  “You’re pretty good with her,” Ember said.

  “The ladies love me,” I cooed to Tillie.

  “Whatever you say, hotshot.”

  “What’s up with the hotshot?”

  “You play ball, don’t you?” She nodded toward the hoodie wrapped around my waist. “I’ve gotten used to reading people. You seem like the cocky sports type.”

  “I can’t argue with that. I’m a pitcher.”

  “Naturally,” Ember said, lifting Molly onto her lap for a cuddle. She pulled out baby wipes from a basket under the coffee table and began wiping Molly’s sticky hands.

  Tillie was already fighting sleep again as I picked her up to do the same. I copied Ember as she patted Molly on the back. Both girls fussed a little, and Ember showed me to her room, which she shared with the twins. She put Molly down in one of the cribs and then Tillie in the other.

  “So, your parents live here with you?” I asked as the twins settled into a deep sleep. They were kinda cute when they weren’t screaming.

  “For the most part. They’re rarely here. This used to be my place, but they got kicked out of theirs, and then mom got pregnant. I couldn’t exactly leave them on the street.” The red tinge of shame colored her cheeks, but I didn’t judge her for that.

  Ember pulled the door closed on the sleeping girls, and we were alone in the hallway.

  The silence closed in around us, and my heart began to thud in my chest. I’d followed her because I couldn’t not, but now that I had her alone, I couldn’t quite find any words. It was a first—being awkward around a woman.

  She raised a hand before I could get them out. “Don’t,” she said warningly.

  “Don’t what?”

  “You’re going to ask me out—and you’re cute and everything—but I’m in no place to have a boyfriend. I just started my job at the station, and I’ve got the twins and my parents. I’m sorry, but I’m not looking for a relationship right now.”

  I nodded and tried to hide how crestfallen I was. Which didn't make sense. We had just met, and I wasn't looking to get tied down either.

  “I understand, but I should get going,” I said and made to move toward the front door.

  She stopped me with a hand on my arm. “I could use a friend though,” she said.

  Chapter Three

  Ember

  “Ember! EMBER! EMBER!”

  I struggled to consciousness, slowly at first, and then all at once, snapping awake and jerking to a sitting position. There was a moment where I wasn’t sure where I was. Sometimes it was like that at the station when we got a call and I couldn’t remember if I was still at home or not. Then my eyes focused on the twins, who’d fallen asleep on my bed again, and I relaxed.

  Molly slept with her mouth slightly open to my left. Tillie was curled into a protective ball on my right. We must have fallen asleep watching TV after I had nagged them through our nighttime routine.

  There are plenty of college-aged girls who would have resented having to take care of their sisters. I’ll admit I’m not perfect, but who could resent such innocent faces? It wasn’t their fault they were born to such irresponsible people. They didn’t deserve to be punished for my parents’ mistakes.

  Sure, it was hard giving up most of my free time to care for them. I essentially became a teenage parent at seventeen and have been responsible for them ever since, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. They were the lights of my life.

  “EMBER!”

  My mother’s hoarse shout sounded as though she was screaming right in my ear, thanks to the thin walls of the apartment. I scrambled from the bed, careful not to wake the twins. Whatever my mom was screaming about couldn’t be anything good. She never paid us any attention unless she wanted something.

  I followed the sound of her smoker’s cough into the living room, frowning when I discovered her with a lit cigarette clutched in her claw.

  “You aren’t supposed to be smoking in the apartment, Mom.”

  She really shouldn’t be smoking at all. She was only thirty-nine, but she looked twenty years older. Her skin was like aged leather, and the scent of stale tobacco clung to it like a shadow. No matter how much I urged her not to smoke, there was no point. There was no explaining anything to Jill Stevens.

  “That’s the first thing you say to me when you wake up? No ‘good morning, Mom, how was your night?’” Mom snorted and puffed away on the cigarette, the cherry glowing a bright red-orange.

  “You called me for something?” I asked instead of rising to her bait. There was no point in that, either. Arguing with her only gave fuel to feed whatever was irritating her.

  I checked my watch, noting it was already six-thirty, and the twins had to be at the bus stop by seven to make it to their kindergarten class on time. As mom made discontented sounds behind me, I busied myself with pouring bowls of milk and cereal for the girls and packing their bags. She should have been doing it, of course, but in the six years the twins had been alive, I could count the number of times that she’d been proactive about their care on one hand.

  Maybe this was why Chris jumped into another woman’s bed so quickly. Was I that much of a drag? Taking care of the twins was second nature to me, but maybe it was more of a hindrance to him than I’d thought. What kind of fresh college grad wants to be saddled with two kids right off the bat?

  The train of thought distracted me, and I had made both bowls of cereal and packed the twins’ bags before I realized Mom was still speaking.

  “Maggie has two tickets, and it’s gonna be a great show. Thank you for being there for your family, sweetie.”

  I tuned back in with a quickness. “What are you talking about?”

  Six forty-five. Mom lit another cigarette, her eyes squinting in my direction. Sometimes, I thought she was the child rather than the girls. Clearly, she wanted me to react. But I simply didn’t have the time. If she got us kicked out again, I’d take the twins to my next apartment, but she wouldn’t be tagging along.

  “I said I need you to watch the twins tonight. I’ve got plans to go to a picture show.” She kicked off her house slippers and relaxed into the recliner. Her designated soap operas played on the TV through the smoke-filled room.

  “I can’t watch them tonight. You know that. I’ve got a shift.”

  We went round and round about this at least two or three times a month. Normally, I’d switch a shift with one of the other guys at the station, but there simply wasn’t enough time to do that now. She had to know on some level that her request was ridiculous.

  She blew out smoke and wrapped her tattered robe more tightly around her midsection. “Then switch shifts with someone.”

  I shook my head as I placed the bowls of cereal on the island counter. “If you’d given me more notice, I might have been able to, but it’s too late now. I’ve told you that before. You can’t just ask me to watch them last minute. Someone has to work to support everyone,” I added under my breath as I headed down the hall to wake the twins.

  Mom mumbled behind me, but I tuned her out. I didn’t have time to deal with her bullshit this morning, and after being through the emotional wringer about Chris the day before, I didn’t have the patience. I’d pay for it later, but whatever.

  The twins had inched closer to each other in my absence. I paused in the doorway for a second to drink in the sight of them twisted in the sheets together, their little hands intertwined, inseparable even in sleep. It made me a little jealous, I’ll admit. They’d always have each other; they’d never be as alone as I felt.

  I was reluctant to wake them, but an alarm on my phone alerted me to the fact that we had ten minutes to get them dressed and out the door. After a gentle shake on each of their arms, their eyes began to crack open. Mirror emoti
ons of annoyance and reluctance flared in their eyes.

  “Five more minutes,” Tillie cried and then flung an arm over her face.

  Molly, on the other hand, stood, if a bit slowly. “Can I wear my purple shirt?” she asked after a moment of hesitation.

  Despite my confrontation with Mom this morning, this simple request brought a smile to my face. The purple shirt was infamous around our house. If allowed, Molly would wear it every day of the week. I’d managed to convince her to restrict it to twice a week instead, but it had been a battle. Some kids had blankies or stuffies. Molly had her purple shirt.

  “It’s in the laundry basket on the dryer, but that means you can’t wear it again until Monday, okay?”

  Molly sighed. “Okay.”

  I shook Tillie one more time and made sure she was up—grumbling, but up. As the two of them dressed and brushed their teeth, I finished packing their bags, along with mine. After dropping them off at the bus stop, I’d head over to the station to start a twenty-four-hour shift.

  Mom was still sitting on the couch, smoking like a steam engine, but I didn’t say anything to her. If I kept harping about her smoking, she’d only do it more to needle me, and I simply didn’t have time for her crap. Especially not when my alarm sounded the five-minute warning. Besides, she’d probably complain about my not watching the girls, and I really didn’t want to go in to work with a headache already brewing.

  The twins, dressed and relatively awake, slurped down their breakfast. As they ate, I brushed and styled their hair and gobbled down a cup of coffee and a handful of dry cereal. One day, I’d have myself together and would be able to wake them up and eat breakfast without rushing. But it wasn’t today.

  As I herded them out the door, I tossed my Mom a, “Have a good day, Mom. They’ll be home at three-twenty after school. My shift will be over tomorrow morning around eight if it doesn’t hold over.”

  Mom waved a hand, and we hurried out.

  * * *

  It was the kind of night that never seemed to end.

  And that was on a regular shift.

  Add in the recent heartbreak, and I wanted to lie down in front of the ambulance and let my partner Josh run me over—then back up and do it again. I huddled in the corner of the station and plugged in my headphones to listen to an audiobook, hoping to pass the time without any more interruptions. There’d been nonstop calls since I had clocked in, but not the exciting, heart-pumping kind. It had been the menial, headache-inducing kind instead.

  Not that I minded, really. It was better than being stuck at home with my thoughts.

  I was damned if I was home, damned if I wasn’t.

  Frowning at myself, I tried to focus on the words. Audiobooks helped pass the time when there was nothing else to do. Throughout the night, we’d had several transfers and a couple of regular patients—nursing home residents, elderly people with chest pains, the usual. Now, it was nearing nine at night. I’d finally finished the last transfer and was hoping there wouldn’t be any other calls so I could relax for a few hours and maybe catch a good night’s sleep before I had to be home with the twins.

  Trying to focus was useless.

  The voice in my ear was a buzzing drone. I couldn’t focus on the words, let alone derive meaning from them. All I could do was check my phone every five minutes, bouncing between hope and sadness. It was pathetic.

  Chris was still blocked on my phone and social media. I’d held fast there. But there was a part of me, however small, that thought that he would still reach out. Use someone else’s phone and text me. Try messaging me from a dummy Facebook or Instagram account.

  Total idiot.

  If he’d wanted to be with me, he would have made an effort to reach me.

  Hope springs eternal, I guess.

  I started to doze off, my half-unconscious dreams plagued by images of Chris alternately apologizing and laughing in my face. When my phone began to ring, I had almost convinced myself it was him calling to apologize.

  Except I didn’t recognize the number on my display. Rubbing at my eyes, I answered, thinking it was probably Mom calling for some emergency or another.

  “Hello?” I winced at the sound of my sleep-rusty voice.

  “Hi, is this Ember? Ember Stevens?”

  I cleared my throat. “Yes, this is she.”

  Well, at least it wasn’t my mother. Knowing that didn’t help the anxiety in my stomach.

  “Hi, this is your neighbor from across the hall, Lennox Marquette.”

  “Hey, Lennox. Is everything okay?”

  I’d seen Lennox on occasion in passing. I knew she was working on her master’s at FSU and spent most of her time with her nose buried in books. If she was calling, it couldn’t be good. The only reason she’d get in touch was if there was some sort of emergency.

  “Actually, I hate to call, but I heard crying coming from your apartment. When I went to knock on the door, your sisters answered.” I sat straight up, adrenaline pumping through my veins. My first overwhelming thought was that my Mom had had a heart attack and the twins were alone with her dead body. Then Lennox continued, “They told me your mother had left them all alone.”

  “She what?” I whispered faintly. It should have been a relief that she wasn’t dead, but this was somehow worse.

  “I’m sorry, Ember, that’s what they said. I was able to get your phone number from the contacts list taped to your fridge. I hope you don’t mind me going in your apartment.”

  I pushed a hand through my sleep-matted hair. I could hear the girls chattering in the background. At least they sounded normal. “Of course not. My mother wasn’t there?”

  Was I hearing her wrong? I knew my mother wasn’t the best in the world, but she’d never deliberately put the twins in danger.

  “I checked everywhere. They said she told them to watch TV and she’d be back later, but that was hours ago. They got scared when it got dark.”

  Lennox offered to watch the kids until I could schedule coverage for work. Thankfully, my captain was understanding and called in a favor. I’d have to work a double shift next week, but I couldn’t focus on anything but getting home to the girls.

  I tried calling my dad, who was rarely home as it was, but he didn’t answer.

  The first real threads of fear wove through my chest on the drive back to my apartment.

  What if they’d left for good?

  Chapter Four

  Tripp

  This was my last chance and I was going to kick ass.

  Or at least that’s what I told myself after eight hours of practice and classes.

  Muscles sore and protesting, I heaved myself from my car in the parking lot of my apartment complex. With the heavy weight of my gym bag thrown over my shoulder, the trek from my car to the elevator felt like an eternity. All I wanted was a big bottle of ice-cold water, a hot shower, and about a century of sleep.

  I aimed to do just that—and I would have if I hadn’t heard the quiet sobs coming from behind the apartment door next to mine. It was so out of place that I froze with my key raised to my door. The last time I could remember hearing Ember like this was the day we met when she had the twins. Of course, the twins cried from time to time, but theirs was more of a high-pitched wail than the soft, heart-wrenching cries I heard now.

  It had to be Ember.

  The thought didn’t quite compute. She was a rock. She put up with more than I thought physically possible. I thought I had it hard with my constant practices, workouts, and training, but that was nothing compared to working, going to school, and taking care of two kids with deadbeat parents.

  She was like Superwoman.

  I knocked on her door after a pause. Maybe she wouldn’t want me butting my nose in. She probably wanted to be alone. I would check on her to make sure she was okay, and then I’d bounce if she wanted me to go.

  I immediately knew when she opened the door that she wasn’t okay.

  Not in the slightest.

  I had
to hold myself back to keep from pulling her into my arms.

  It wasn’t the red rims around her eyes or the smeared mascara that gave it away—at least not for me. I’d known Ember long enough to get used to her moods. She was either balls-to-the-wall full of energy or she was sleeping. I spent half the time we hung out just trying to keep up with her—and I was supposed to be a star athlete for fuck’s sake. It was how wrung-out she looked that clued me in. Like she simply didn’t have anything left to give.

  After dropping my bag inside her front door, I closed it behind me. She had her arms wrapped around her waist, and, as much as I wanted to pull her close and comfort her, I knew it wasn’t the right time. So, I shoved my hands into my pockets instead. “What's wrong? Is it your parents?”

  She shook her head but wouldn’t meet my eyes as we sat on her worn couch. I tipped her chin up with a finger. “Em, tell me what’s wrong, angel.”

  As long as I’d known her, Ember had been a rock. Immovable. Unbreakable. I’d never seen her crack.

  Until now.

  And it made me want to do whatever I could to make her feel better.

  Tears shimmered in her eyes, and then she cleared her throat, her shoulders lifting as she sucked in a deep breath. “It’s everything. My parents, pulling more shit. I had to take off from work when I really needed the hours. Chris broke up with me. He’s seeing someone else.”

  “Broke up?” It didn’t quite penetrate. He had Ember. Why would he need anyone else? “You’re kidding. What happened with your parents?”

  I didn’t want to touch the conversation about her boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—with a ten-foot pole. Didn’t want to open that can of worms. It had taken a long time to get over her—or at least get to a place where I wasn’t thinking about her constantly.

  Thankfully, she kept me from making a complete jackass out of myself. She was clearly hurting. Now was not the time to make any sort of move on her. No matter how much I wanted to.