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“Oh, boy.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “What I mean is we can go tomorrow. I think I’ll spend the day with Jay to cheer him up. It’s better not to make plans in case he’s in a really foul mood.”
I wanted to be upset, but damn, when he was blowing me off to take care of my son, how could I have a problem with that?
I sighed. “Fine. Tomorrow, then, and don’t call to put it off either or change your mind. I will find you.”
“I’m pretty sure saying that’s a red flag.” He laughed uneasily.
“Nah, it’s only a red flag if I hurt you, which I won’t ever do. You’re good.”
“I’ll get going, then.” He walked to the door, then spun around. “As soon as I find my shoes. And if you find my underwear, don’t bother leaving it out on the porch like you did the last time!”
14
SCOTTIE
When I set foot inside the house, a sense of déjà vu overcame me. The door closed behind me with a thud, and I jumped. Why did I feel like a sixteen-year-old again, sneaking in after staying out on a school night when I should be in bed? I was an adult. I’d done very adult things last night, and I had the sore butt to prove it.
Straightening my spine, I strode toward the stairs. A loud crash came from the living room. What in the pepperoni slice was that? I poked my head inside and wrinkled my nose. The scent of sweat, burned popcorn, and beer made me gag. Jay lay sprawled on the couch with one foot on the floor. He didn’t seem to mind that he was all but falling off.
This is bad. This is bad bad bad.
But not as bad as what you did with his father last night.
The air was thick with depression. I cast a longing glance at the staircase but instead walked into the living room.
“Jay.”
He raised his head an inch, then let it fall again. “Oh. It’s you.”
“Of course it’s me. Who else could it be?”
He scrambled up on the couch. “In your text, you didn’t say what time you would be home today. I assumed later.”
“You got my text? Why didn’t you reply, then?”
“As if you noticed.” He tugged at the collar of my shirt. “Jesus, Scottie. Your neck. What happened? Do you need to go to the hospital?”
“Stop that.” I shoved his hand aside and pulled the neck of my shirt up as if it could hide all the wonderfully awful things his father had done to me last night. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing. I remember what you used to look like after that asshole—”
“This is not like that. Will you trust me?”
“Only if you promise me you won’t hide it if it’s more than you can handle.”
“Fine, there really isn’t anything for you to worry about.” I poked his chest. “You should worry about you. You stink.”
“That’s just my natural man juice.”
“Ew. Seriously, hit the shower, and I’ll clean up. I’ll make you something healthier to eat.”
“I don’t feel like moving.”
“Please.” I shook his shoulder. “Do it for me, Jay. And the poor couch. It can’t take any more of your sweat.”
He scowled, and I smiled, all wide-eyed innocence.
“You should be ashamed of yourself.” Jay shoved the blanket aside, climbed to his feet, and stretched. He wasn’t wearing anything but boxers. Worn ones that showed me way too much of his junk than I needed to see.
