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“Getting there, Jay,” I say, my voice small.
He stretches his long legs out in front of him, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Been a long fucking time,” he says quietly, taking a shaking sip from his cup, and his eyes go hazy.
I nod. “Do you remember the last time I was here?”
He rubs his thumb over his bottom lip, like he’s trying to find the right words to say. Clearing his throat, he says, “I do; I showed you the building plans. It was a couple months before Hunt and Drew came to live with me here I think, before I started the company. You were this angry fifteen-year-old kid, you reminded me of myself the whole time you were here.” He grimaces, before running a hand over his beard. He can’t even hold my gaze.
“I still feel like that kid sometimes,” I say without thinking about it.
He looks at me, eyes guarded.
“How’s the business?” I ask, trying to change the subject.
“You mean with the guys?”
“And with you,” I mutter. Hating how his job took him away from me and Mom.
“We’re on a roll. Hunt’s been winning a ton and he’s training kids with Drew. They’ll be here tomorrow; I can show you around if you want. I mean, if you’d like that?”
“Why not? I’d like to see what you’ve been up to.” I want to say without me, but I quickly close my mouth.
He only nods, and taps his knuckles on the armrest of the chair.
“Jay,” I mumble. His eyes find mine, and I lay my hand on his, but quickly pull it back again. “Can I stay here a while? I know it’s beyond weird, after all these years,” I tell him, and blow out a breath. “I don’t even really know if I should have come. I can go back to the motel if you want.”
He cuts me off. “Kiddo, I’m glad you came. And of course you can stay here.”
I almost lose it. I’ve been fooling myself these last couple of years thinking I don’t need him. I have to bite the inside of my cheek so I don’t break down right in front of him. “Why?”
He frowns, probably waiting for my response. “I’ve missed you,” he tells me, “more than you know.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
Jay is quiet for a moment. “I know.” He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Are you passing through?”
I close my eyes for a moment, when I open them back up I catch him watching me. “Yeah, just passing through.” Brushing my hair out of my face, I flash him a weak smile. “Don’t know for how long though.”
He nods, glancing around the porch. “We have a couple weeks off before the tour picks up again. You can stay in your room. Enough time to catch up if you want?”
I raise my brows in response, “You made a room for me?”
“Yeah, why not? I didn’t know when you were coming and I wanted you to feel comfortable,” he says, the smile on his face falls.
We don’t say anything for a while, and I drink my coffee in silence. There is a chill in the air. I close my hoodie and he sees it. Tapping his fingers on the armchair again, he says, “Do you want to get settled upstairs?”
“Lead the way,” I reply.
He puts his barely touched coffee cup in the sink, and I follow him up the stairs.
“Hope you like it,” he says, sounding almost nervous opening a door.
The room is amazing. The walls are painted a beautiful soft yellow. There’s a queen-size bed with pink covers and a lot of trinkets, a skateboard, and paintings decorate the walls.
“Got that stuff on my travels, I didn’t think you’d want me to send them to you in New York, so I kept them here,” he says.
I take a seat on the mattress and run my hands over the soft fabric, I’m already tired from walking up the stairs, and tears fill my eyes.
“This is all mine?” I gasp.
