“That’s all I get? No, Hello, Eric. I’ve missed you?”
“What do you want?” I ask, trying to sound assertive and unaffected. I don’t want to let him know he can still affect me in any way. He can sniff out when someone is intimidated, and he feeds off it.
“I want you back here. In my house. In my bed.”
I can’t help but laugh. He is literally insane.
“That ship has sailed, Eric. Besides, your bed is big, but it’s not big enough to share with your wife.”
“She’s gone.”
“Bullshit,” I spit.
“She’s…away, getting help. Then she’s going to get her own place once she’s well again.”
I hope that’s the truth, but I can’t believe a word out of Eric’s mouth.
“Where’s Cayden?” I ask quietly.
“He’s here. With me, of course.”
My heart physically hurts when I think about Cayden. At twelve years old, he’s the only innocent in this fucked-up scenario. My throat gets tight when I think about how he must be feeling without his mom. I know better than anyone. The hardest part of leaving Eric was leaving Cayden.
“He misses you, baby. We both do,” Eric says in that soft tone. The one he saves for times like these, when he knows he doesn’t have the upper hand. But sweet-talking won’t work this time.
“I miss him, too,” I say, voice cracking before I steel it. “But you’re fucking delusional if you think I’d ever come back to you.” I hang up the phone before he can respond, and then I stare at the dirty carpet, sucking in a deep breath, trying to escape the guilt that threatens to swallow me whole.
I had an accidental affair with the married father of the child I nannied. There were many casualties, but the one I regret most is Cayden.
* * *
“SO, A FINE ASS FEMALE comes in here and sticks money down your pants like you’re some stripper, then you continue to stare out the window every day for almost a week straight, just to catch a glimpse of her, and there’s nothing going on between you two? That’s the story you’re sticking with?” Cordell asks sarcastically as he cleans his station. Logan paid me a visit last week, and my dick is just now calming down. I was waiting for a client when she came in and stuck her hands down my pants, which made for a very uncomfortable session. Lots of adjusting going on. Lots of distracted thoughts.
Fuck that girl for getting into my head.
“Yep,” I say shortly. Even if it wasn’t the truth, this isn’t teatime gossip.
“So, she’s fair game then?” Cord asks, testing me.
“Go for it,” I say, picture of ambivalence.
“Bullshit.” He laughs.
“What the fuck do you want me to say? Is she hot? Hell yeah. But I don’t even know the chick.”
Cordell looks at me with a puzzled expression, like he doesn’t even know who I am. “You don’t know her? Since when has that been a requirement for you?”
“That’s not what I meant.” He’s right. I don’t exactly flaunt my hookups, but everyone knows I don’t make “lasting relationships”. One-night stands work best when you don’t have to see the other person on a regular basis.
“Okay…” he says in a way that tells me he’s not buying it.
“Anyone left on the books tonight?” I ask, done with this topic.
“Nope. You ready to go?”
“Might as well.” Matty and our piercer, Alec, are closing up tonight, so we can go to Briar’s get-together.
“Let’s roll.”
We walk into Ash and Briar’s house, late enough that no one’s paying attention, but not so late that I piss them off. They’re all used to my antisocial ways. I usually slip in once everyone is already liquored up and dip out without a word an hour later.
“You came,” Briar says when she sees me, voice soft. She leaves Asher’s side to walk over to me, then throws her arms around my torso, hugging me tight.
“I said I would,” I say, tussling her blonde hair. She pulls back, hair all mussed with a cheesy smile on her face.
“Thank you.”
“Congratulations,” I say before making my way over to Ash. He gives me the bro handshake with the one-armed hug while Briar greets Cordell. Adrian gives us a nod as he picks a roll from the plate on the counter, shoving the entire thing into his mouth. I say hi to everyone: my buddy Cam—Cordell’s brother—his girl, Mollie, and their kid River, who’s toddling around in a Burton beanie. I’m surprised to see Briar’s brother, Dash, and her mom, Mrs. Vale, here, too.
“What, no girl distracting you tonight?” Ash says sarcastically.
I flip him off instead of telling him to fuck off for Briar’s mom’s benefit.
“What girl?” Adrian asks around a mouthful of bread, just as Sutton rounds the corner…with Logan. We lock eyes, neither one of us expecting to see each other. She’s wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt almost the same shade as her porcelain skin that fits snug against her tits and the curve of her hips, tight, black pants, and black boots.
“Oh, hey,” Sutton says when she notices me. “This is my new friend, Lo.”
“Yeah, we’ve met,” I say, trying not to stare.
Logan gives a wave.
“Are you serious?” Sutton says, looking between the two of us. “Why does this keep happening to me? Can’t I have one friend to myself?”
Everyone snickers, remembering how Cam and Mollie were in a situation like this one not too long ago. Except theirs was much more complicated.
Fucking small towns.
“All right, now that we all know each other, let’s eat.” This comes from Adrian. I’ve never been grateful for his big mouth until this moment.
We stack our plates full of lasagna, salad, and bread, and I’d bet my shop that Briar planned it on purpose, knowing it’s my favorite, though she’d never admit it. This is a get-together to celebrate her, yet she makes my favorite meal. That’s just how she is. Her thoughtfulness used to make me uncomfortable, still does sometimes, but I’ve mostly learned to accept it by now.
Everyone finds a seat wherever they can. I opt for the couch, and Ash sits next to me, while Briar sits at the kitchen table with her mom, brother, Sutton, and Logan. Cord, Cam, and Mollie sit at the counter while River, who refuses to be contained to her seat, plays at their feet as they bribe her to eat her lasagna, bite by bite.
“How’s married life?” I ask Ash. They’re not married yet, but they for damn sure act like it. I met Ash when he was just a fucked-up kid. He was in a bad place, I gave him a job and a place to stay, and we’ve been family ever since. Truthfully, he reminded me of myself. The only difference is Ash’s guilt and self-loathing is misplaced, whereas I’m one hundred percent responsible for the mistakes that plague me. There’s no way around it.
Asher is only a few years younger than me, but he seems to think I have my shit together. I do on the outside, but inside? I’m more fucked up than he knows. I just don’t care to show it.
“Can’t complain.” He shrugs, picture of nonchalance, as always, but I speak fluent Asher, and I know that really means life couldn’t be better. He’s fucking crazy over that girl, and he almost fucked it up. Several times.