Page 96 of Already Callin’ You Mine

22

PRESLEY

I need a soundtrack. A good one.

One that’s going to inspire me to get my ass in gear.

Swiping at my brow, I look around my living room, more excited than I should admit to that I can actually see the floor. The very dirty floor, but I can see it nonetheless. Thankfully, Otis went along with my makeshift “game” this morning to get all his toys picked up. I have a long day of cleaning ahead, and the last thing I needed was to start the day with a fight.

Now, if he’ll play along with hanging out in his room and entertaining himself, I might be able to do this all today. Maybe. Hence my need for a soundtrack. A superb musical interlude to keep the blood flowing.

How did Barney Stinson put it when it came to his “Get Psyched” playlist? All rise? That’s what I need today—a playlist that is all rise.

Scrolling through my playlist, I settle on one that I think will work. At least, it’ll be a good start. Hitting play, I throw my head back as a strong guitar riff plays through the speakers. Ahhh, eighties rock at its best.

I get to work, losing myself in the music, keeping it at a reasonable volume so that I can still keep an open ear on Otis. Another reason this often ends up taking what feels like forever—my little “helper” getting involved.

“Doorbell!” Otis screams as he runs toward the door.

I jump, startled by his sudden presence and his super speed. Doorbell? Is he sure? I didn’t hear anything, so how could he?

“I got it!”

“Otis, wait…”

I seriously need to work with him on this…

I don’t bother to turn the stereo down, rushing after Otis like he’s a sheep that escaped the pen. My socks slide across the hardwood floor just in time to appear behind my kid as he struggles to open the door.

“Jace!” Otis squeals.

Jace…

My heart leaps, hovering in my throat as if waiting for me to choke on it. Chills rush over my skin, everything coming to a complete halt.

Jace is here.

“Hey, Little Man,” he greets, not skipping a beat. Kneeling down to Otis’s level, he holds out his fist, his bright, disarming smile firmly in place. Otis bumps knuckles, his little balled up hand looking so small compared to Jace’s, giggling his greeting. “Do me a favor? Will you go get dressed while I talk to Mama for a second?”

I start to respond, my objection right on the tip of my tongue, but I’m cut off by the cute, squeaky voice that makes my heart squeeze.

“O-tay!”

Skittering off without a care, Otis disappears almost as quickly as he appeared in the first place. My pulse picks up even more, thumping in time with the beat of the music that is still playing, waiting for whatever comes next.

“Hi,” Jace says, as confident as ever, pushing to his feet.

“H-hi…” I stumble, my response a lot breathier than I intended. To the point where it almost can’t be heard over the music.

Oh shit, the music.

I hold up a finger, signaling him to wait a moment as I rush across the room and grab for my phone. I fumble it more than a little as I try to hit pause, my nerves shining through, but I finally manage to connect finger to screen, halting Journey’s live jam session.

“Sorry,” I say, turning back to the door. “I…”

I what? Don’t know what to say? Yeah, that’s obvious. Am wondering what on earth he’s doing here? That too. After the other night, I have no idea what he thinks there is left to say. I thought I was clear.

Guess I need to double down.