Just Exes

by Charity Ferrell

  He flips me on my back. “You have exactly what I need.”

  I yelp when the blanket is torn off, and he crawls down until his face meets my thighs. I thought a beautiful sight was him next to me in bed in the morning, but dear God, his head between my legs might compete. My hands travel to his hair, and I grip the strands as he gives me the good morning I’ve missed for years without him.

  Captain Crunch is in my bowl, and I’m eating my breakfast in bed.

  Gage is at my side, enjoying his second breakfast.

  The man has definitely improved in the oral sex department.

  There’s been nothing but comfortableness with us this morning. We’ve hung out, watched TV, and had light conversation. No mentions of where this is heading or of expectations.

  Hopefully, it stays that way.

  I want to relish this moment where no resentment or regret exists.

  “What time do you go into work?” I ask, swallowing down a bite.

  “I’ll head out in about an hour,” he answers. “You have the day off, right?”

  I nod.

  “Any plans?”

  Other than agonizing about what happened last night on repeat?

  It’s a bummer that I’m not working. The hospital is the best place to tear me away from my problems.

  “I’m hanging out with Willow and the kiddos.”

  Knowing Willow, I’ll be answering questions about him all day.

  “Sounds like fun.”

  Goose bumps run along my leg when he runs his hand down it.

  He smacks a kiss on my cheek before sliding out of bed and grabbing our bowls. “Want to do dinner tonight?”

  I bite into the edge of my lip. “It’s our mandatory monthly dinner at my parents’ house.” I pause to take a deep breath. “If you’re hungry, you can tag along.”

  He grins. “You asking me to meet the parents, Dyson?” The bowls clank when they hit the sink. He cleans them and starts tracking down his clothes around the loft.

  I narrow my eyes at him. “Oh, shove it. Pretty sure you’ve met the parents.”

  He sits on the side of the bed, next to me. “So, are we going to do this? Try again?”

  That’s the question of the damn year.

  “I mean … I don’t know.” I wipe the sleep from my eyes. “What happened last night terrifies me but in a good way, if that makes sense?”

  “As much as it doesn’t, I understand because I feel the same way.” His face softens. “But, what I said last night about being a different man, I wasn’t lying. It wasn’t a ploy to keep you away from me. I am, Lauren.”

  “I know you have … history, what with having an ex-wife locked up and all.” And secrets. You have secrets. A shit ton of secrets. I’ll save that conversation for another day. “And, uh … more.”

  He stands and starts to get dressed. “Yes, more.”

  I break our eye contact and start playing with the blanket, hoping my words sound comforting. “Do you think you’ll eventually tell me sooner or later?”

  His gaze is downcast.

  “I’m not asking you to spill out your past right now, but I’d like to understand what you’re going through. Maybe I can help.”

  “We’ll see.” He kisses the top of my head. “Let’s take things slowly, okay? You might come to the conclusion that you can’t stand my ass anymore.”

  “And you might conclude that you actually can stand me.”

  “Already figuring that one out, babe.”

  My phone beeps with a message, and I snag it from the nightstand to see Willow’s alert that they’re about to pull into the driveway. I jump out of bed as if it suddenly caught fire and start throwing clothes on.

  Gage follows me into the bathroom and leans against the wall, hands sliding into the pockets of his pants, while I start brushing my teeth. “About dinner tonight.”

  I spit out my toothpaste and rinse my mouth before answering—with an inner fear of rejection—“You know what? Don’t worry about it. It’s too early for something that serious.”

  He takes a step forward and wraps his arms around my waist, lightly pushing into me. “Ask Mama Barnes if there’s anything I need to bring.” His lips go to my cheek, causing me to blush as he kisses it. “I’ll be there.”

  My cheeseball grin has returned as I look at him in the mirror. “Really?”

  “Really.” He whips me around and clasps my hands in his, holding them between us. “Let’s see where this goes.”

  “I like that plan.”

  My phone fires off again, and I pull away to grab it.

  Willow: Coming up! Any exes in the building I should know about?

  “Oh shit,” I hiss.

  “Oh shit what?” Gage questions.

  “Dallas and Willow are here.”

  He scratches his stubble-covered cheek. “That a problem? I thought you had plans with them.”

  “They’re coming up here. As in right this second.”

  A triple series of knocks interrupts our conversation, and Gage goes to answer the door. I’m behind him, my chest hitting his back, when he opens it.

  A bright smile pops on Willow’s cherry-colored lips. “Well, well, look at what we have here.” She points to Gage. “Bet me five hundred bucks I know your name.”

  “Willow, stop messing with him,” I say with a groan.

  She smiles. “And who exactly is him? He your milkman, your landlord, your ex?”

  Gage holds out his hand. “I’m Gage, definitely not the milkman, kind of the landlord, and yes, the ex ... for now.”

  “I vote for you to keep him,” Willow says to me.

  We move to the side to let Willow in. Maven is next to her, their hands entwined, and Dallas is behind them with Samuel in his arms.

  “Gage, man, good seeing you,” Dallas says.

  Gage nods toward Samuel. “Congratulations on the addition to your family.”

  “The little one is my daughter, Maven, and the loudmouth to her side is my baby mama, Willow,” Dallas says, jerking his head toward them. “A heads-up, she wasn’t born with a filter.”

  Gage laughs. “The good ones never are. I’d love to catch up, but I’m due for work soon.” He kisses the top of my head. “See you soon.”

  “Gage, huh?” Dallas asks when Gage shuts the door behind him. “Can’t say I’m surprised once I heard he was back in town.”

  Willow sighs, her shoulders slumping. “Man, this is one of those times I wish I had grown up here. I need some juicy dating history.”

  Dallas hands Samuel over to me at my request and gives his good-byes. He drove the tow truck to take my car into their shop. Even though Gage offered to look at it, I can’t put that on him.

  I sit down with Samuel in my arms and rock back and forth while Maven roams around the loft, loaded with curiosity. The girl might be only seven, but she’s a nosy one. She must’ve inherited that gene from my family.

  Willow points to my clothes. “This a new style of yours?”

  I glance down at myself. I’m sporting a pair of Gage’s shorts and a scrub shirt. “Thought I’d try something new.”

  She snorts. “Yeah, whatever. I can’t wait to get you alone.”

  Twenty-Two

  Gage

  “And good morning to my best friend who finally got laid,” Kyle calls out, slapping me on the back when I walk into the station. “Was it an exorcism with the ex?”

  All eyes of my coworkers go to me, and I don’t answer him as I take long strides to my office, him trailing behind me. I’ve already been a subject of gossip since I got home, and now, Kyle has sparked the curiosity in their heads even more. They’ll be keeping their ears open for any information they can gather and spill out to their friends and family.

  I expected him to give me shit eventually, but damn, am I that transparent when it comes to Lauren? Maybe it’s easier for people to read us than it is for us to read ourselves.

  I read Lauren this morning, and I saw the confusion and
panic in her. It was a familiar feeling.

  “How about you quit worrying about my relationship?” I respond when we reach my office, and he plops down in the chair in front of my desk.

  Kyle has his own office, which he hardly frequents because he hates being alone. Blame it on growing up in a large family where there was always noise in the background.

  His eyes crinkle at the corners. “Ah … so it’s a relationship now?”

  I rub at my tired eyes. “Why are you asking me these questions?”

  “You look the happiest you’ve been since you moved back, which is a giant motherfucking dis to my ass, considering you haven’t ever been that happy to see my smiling face.”

  “Shit, my bad. I wasn’t aware you wanted a make-out session to celebrate our reunion.”

  He flips me off. “You could’ve at least brought a guy some flowers.”

  “Noted. Next time we have a spat, roses and champagne will come your way. Are we finished with this whole bro-bonding talk?”

  “Hell no. I’m only getting started.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me,” I mutter.

  “So what? You two back on?”

  “We didn’t talk about anything. It’s fresh, and bringing up the future isn’t a good idea yet.”

  I don’t want what we had last night and this morning to be a one-time thing. If I could have it my way, I’d have her before we shut our eyes at night and the second we woke.

  The problem is, between those times, it’s more complicated.

  “You two are a hot-ass mess,” Kyle goes on.

  “It only happened last night. Dragging up old memories and expectations is a dumb idea.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t think it was a dumb idea when your head was between her legs this morning.”

  I grin. “I’d never think that’s a dumb idea.”

  Twenty-Three

  Lauren

  My day consisted of strolling around downtown with a strawberry smoothie in my hand and then running around the park with Willow and her kiddos. The chaos of keeping up with them has distracted me from my thoughts of Gage and what happens from here with our relationship.

  We had straddled the line and played games since our first run-ins, and it doesn’t surprise me that we finally crossed it.

  We had sex, although I’m not sure how we got there in that moment.

  Maybe it was the hurt on his face that drew me closer to helping him.

  Maybe it was the way he looked at me.

  Maybe it was the fact that I’m still in love with him.

  I’m back in the loft. Maven is sleeping off her exhaustion from the day on the couch, and Willow is feeding Samuel while we sit at the kitchen table. She’s been waiting to get me away from Maven’s ears to grill me about Gage.

  “Dude is hot, especially with the after-sex glow. It’s about time you got laid,” she says. “Are you back together?”

  As much as I don’t want to partake in this conversation, I need to. Willow might be overdramatic at times, but she’s logical and levelheaded when it comes to relationships.

  “We talked briefly, but I don’t know where his head is. The last thing I want to do is get my hopes up, and then it falls apart.”

  Gage made it clear weeks ago that he wanted nothing to do with me and that he hated my guts. Sure, I said the same, but I was lying.

  So, what changed his mind?

  “Why would it fall apart?” she asks. “It’s obvious that he still has feelings for you. You love him. Maybe it’ll work out this time.”

  “He was married.” Is this my way of talking myself out of giving us another shot?

  “But he’s divorced now, right?”

  I nod. “Yes, but he got married. That’s a big step for someone. He gave another woman a ring, said I do, and was with her for years. And get this; no one knew about her, not even his best friend.”

  “Divorces aren’t that uncommon. Maybe he thought marrying her was the right thing to do. Did he knock her up maybe?”

  I shake my head. “He said he doesn’t have any kids. He might’ve divorced her because she went to prison.”

  “Prison? Chick is in prison? Like murder prison or fancy I didn’t pay my taxes prison? I need details, pronto.”

  “Trust me, I want details as much as you, but he won’t give me anything.”

  She sets Samuel’s empty bottle on the table and starts burping him. “You didn’t check the internet? Hello? Google is the new private investigator. It’ll save you time and money.”

  I shrug. “I thought about it, but it doesn’t feel right to go behind his back. I want him to trust me enough to tell me himself.”

  “You are a patient soul. I would’ve already had the prison wife’s entire family tree looked up, seen her middle school yearbook pictures, and known her blood type.”

  “I just”—I sigh—“don’t want to break his trust.”

  “I understand, but let me know if you change your mind and need assistance in the stalking department. I excel at it.”

  I laugh. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  “Are you inviting him to dinner tonight?”

  I can’t stop myself from grinning like a teenager who just scored her first prom date. “Already did, and he said he’d come.”

  As if his ears were burning, my phone beeps with a text from Gage.

  Gage: Just pulled in. You up for some company?

  His offering to hang out is a good sign.

  Me: If you don’t mind a baby, a napping kid, and a nosy future sister-in-law, come right up.

  Gage: Sounds like a blast to me. I’ll stay quiet.

  I set my phone down and attempt to give Willow a serious look. “He’s coming up, so please don’t interrogate him.”

  She frowns. “You’re no fun anymore.”

  Gage doesn’t bother knocking before walking into the loft, and I can’t stop myself from licking my lips at the sight of him in his uniform again. He could sport that every night when he comes home, and I’d still never tire of it.

  Willow swoons when he kisses my cheek and pulls out the chair next to mine. I can feel my cheeks blushing. This is the first time we’ve touched like this in front of someone.

  He tilts his head toward a cooing Samuel. “You’ve got a cute little man there.”

  Willow peeks down at Samuel and plays with the fat roll on his arm. She scoots her chair out, situates my nephew on her side, and stares at Gage. “Thank you. You want to hold him while I use the bathroom real quick?”

  At first, Gage seems taken aback by her question, but he eventually nods. “Yeah, sure.”

  “I can take him,” I blurt out, sliding my chair out from the table.

  Willow glances away from him to me. “Was that too intrusive?”

  Gage holds his arms out. “No, not at all. Hand the little guy over.”

  Willow carefully places Samuel in Gage’s hold and makes sure he’s steady before heading to the bathroom. I’m tempted to kick my foot out and trip her. Her question was a test of his character.

  My mom always says, “You don’t know someone’s patience until you see how they act with a child.”

  “You sure you don’t want me to take him?” I question.

  He shakes his head. “I’ve got this, Dyson.”

  My heart tightens as I watch him stare down at Samuel with an expression I know all too well. I see it regularly at the hospital. It’s emptiness. Pain. Disappointment.

  What happened to him?

  Whom did he lose?

  My thoughts jump back to when I asked if he had kids. He said he didn’t, but there’s a longing there.

  Did he and his wife have fertility problems, and that’s what broke them apart?

  Did he want children, but she didn’t?

  Did she miscarry?

  Samuel relaxes as Gage rocks him in his arms. My stomach flutters, and I wish I could record them together. Everything in Gage changed in that small moment—his demeanor, his ski
n bunching up around his sorrow-filled eyes—and his face confessed I was missing something significant about his past.

  “Wow,” Willow says, causing me to jump at the sound of her voice. She moves back into the room with a smile on her face. “He takes to you, Gage. Lucky for Lauren, it looks like you’ll make a great father one day.”

  Her last words are like an electric bolt smacking into a power line, shutting Gage off from me. His shoulders still, his body going tight, and the lost expression on his face fires through harder.

  He holds Samuel out to Willow, and his voice turns cautionary. “It was a pleasure meeting you and your family. I have to go.”

  His hands shake as Willow takes Samuel from him, and as soon as their exchange finishes, he jumps up from the chair and rushes to the door. I’m on his trail, reaching him at the stairs, and I grab the back of his shirt to stop him.

  “Hey,” I say, unable to get him to turn around. “What’s wrong?”

  “Forgot I needed to shower,” he clips before sniffing his armpit. “I had a long shift.”

  Liar.

  Alarm rings through my mind. There’s something wrong. This isn’t the right time to question him. Even though I don’t know why he’s upset, his slumped shoulders and emotion-choked voice tell me the pain is deep. Trying to draw out the reasoning from him with Willow here is selfish.

  “Are we still on for dinner?” It’s not a serious question, but it feels like a thousand bricks hit me when I ask.

  He moves down a step, and I expect him to walk away, but instead, he turns around to look at me. “Shit, I forgot I promised my dad we’d do pizza, beer, and the game tonight.”

  Liar.

  He’s a pro at faking; I have to credit him for that. He’s absorbing the pain deeper, hiding it from me, with each passing second.

  “Want to stop by when the game ends?” I ask.

  He rubs his eyes. “Sure. Have fun.”

  With that, he turns around.

  I don’t head back into the loft until he disappears into the house.