AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Jesus, how fucking morbid.
“You missed the point, dickhead.” I look at Jacks, grateful for his interruption. He drops his feet, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, glass rolling between his hands. “I think about it, and her, every day, but I don’t dwell on it.” Now, his look is pointed, because, well, five years of holding a torch for a girl and never really getting over how life can be so poorly timed, might be considered dwelling. “I want to skate for as long as I can…and Isa wants me to skate for as long as I can. The way we live, it works for now. When there’s a baby growing inside of her? Yeah, it won’t work like this because I want to be a dad, not an image on a screen.”
The air has literally left my body. Baby…are we fucking old enough to have kids?
“Jesus, Jacks.” I pound my drink, and then pound my fist on my chest, trying to work air through. “Baby?” I sputter eventually. “You’re not even married yet and you’re thinking of babies?”
His smile is some kind of large and terror skitters up my spine. I know we’re adults, but…babies?
“Not now. Maybe not soon…but yeah, baby. I want the real deal,” he says, and there isn’t any laughter in his voice. Mine either, because although Jacks had a mom and sister who were fucking awesome, he didn’t have what every boy wants: a dad. None of us did, and the idea of being that, of correcting it and being the best dad to his own kid? Yeah, I can see the appeal.
In ten years. Maybe fifteen.
He stands, draining his drink and slapping me on the shoulder. “Glad you’re here, Mal.”
I nod, holding out my hand for our shake, the one that’s seen us through all the years. “It’s only been, like, twenty-five minutes,” I tell him when he heads to the stairs.
“Six weeks,” he reminds me, taking the stairs two at a time. “She’s lucky she got twenty-five.”
I settle down lower into the couch, watching the tree lights flicker, in no rush to hobble up the stairs and overhear something that will make me wish I was deaf instead of just broken. Or that I was getting some of my own.
Cue the image of Nala.
It’s difficult to read her, which means our declaration to be friends tonight was the right one. I want her—that’s no secret to anyone but her, and I plan on having her. But before I can do that, I need to know her, and I need her to know me.
We started the rebuilding process at the beach, but then she came over and we effectively burned any newly built bridge to the ground. I hope that’s not the case with tonight’s work. It seems like I’m in a rush all of a sudden, after years of standing back and doing nothing, of not feeling like I had the right to do anything. Now, all I can see is that my life isn’t enough without her in it, and no matter what Hunter said tonight, I’m not leaving San Diego again until I’m sure she’s mine.
