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The other side of my jaw—the one that’s not bruised—throbs. I’m already anticipating Tuck’s fist slamming into my face again.
“You think I feel good about this?” I ask.
Riley crosses the kitchen to the coffee pot and pourshimself a mug. “I think you need to tell Jen how you really feel before you make a bigger mess of things. I know you slept with her. Tuck said she had a hickey.” He shakes his head and lets out a low whistle. “I’d ask what you were thinking, but clearly you weren’t thinking at all.”
No shit.
I tear a hand through my hair. My arms ache from last night’s workout. The one where I fucked Jen twice. My face hurts. My chest feels heavy but somehow soft at the same time? Mushy, even?
“She asked me to... help her out. So I did.”
Riley arches a brow. “Really.”
“It’s none of your business.”
“But it is. It is my business when my two closest friends in the world are literally brawling over a baby sister.”
“I didn’t punch him back. Tuck. And Jen is a grown woman.”
Riley looks me in the eye. “I’m begging you. Make Jen your wife for real or let her go. Tell the truth. I refuse to lose y’all. She’s good for you. You’re good for her. Do the right thing, Abel.”
“Maybe.”Not a chance. I’m not good for anyone.
“Oh, quit the broody bullshit. You know I come from a broken home too. My dad abandoned us. But I refused to let that asshole’s mistakes rule my life.”
A moon lodges itself in my throat. I drink my coffee in an attempt to swallow the thing, but it doesn’t budge. “Happy endings, they’re rare. Jen deserves one. I can’t risk disappointing her.”
“Because you think you’re gonna fall down on her the way your father fell down on you?” Riley furrows his brow.
I shrug. “I have the same job. Same risk of injury. Same genes.”
“So you think you’re going to get hurt and end up hooked on drugs too.”
“Higher than average chance, yeah.” I swallow. “He destroyed Mom’s life. Came close to destroying mine. When I was younger...”
Riley leans his hip into the counter. “But you didn’t get destroyed. In fact, you thrived. And never once did you feel sorry for yourself the way he did.”
I clear my throat. “His life—Mom’s—they weren’t easy.”
“Yours sure as hell hasn’t been a cakewalk. But I’m a firm believer that struggle makes good people. You’re a good man, Abel. You say Jen deserves a happy ending, I say you do too. Just because your parents didn’t end up happy doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to be happy either.”
My eyes sting. Blinking, I look away. “I want to believe you.”
“You’re torturing yourself. And now you’re torturing Jen too.”
“She knows the rules. I was clear about what I could and couldn’t give her. And she?—”
“Doesn’t want to marry you?” Riley gives me a look. “Abel, pull your head out of your ass. She’d let you wife her up tomorrow.”
My heart dips. “She knows better.”
“She knows you’re a good man, and that’s all she’s ever wanted.”
For so long, I was certain about what I wanted. Or didn’t want, more specifically. I didn’t want a girlfriend. I didn’t want to get married. I didn’t want kids or a dog or a picket fence.
I just wanted freedom, because being free meant I wasn’t hurting anyone. No one depended on me, so it was impossible to disappoint them.
I never felt like I was missing out on anything living that way. But Riley is right. Now that Jen’s in the picture—now that she’s in my bed, she’s telling me what she wants, she’sgrowing in confidencebecause of me—I feel like I’ve missed out on a lot. And that pisses me off.
