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“Ian,” I groan. “He can’t take his stuff to school. The kids will make fun of him.” He shrugs and I roll my eyes.
“It’ll be easier,” he says, then his face grows serious. Too serious for a fifteen-year-old. “I don’t want you near his dad.” I snort.
“You know, it’s supposed to be me protecting you, right?” He shrugs as he grabs a pair of jeans from the floor.
“We protect each other.” I shake my head.
“That’s not how it works, bud.”
“It’s safer for everyone if we don’t have to go to his place,” he says as he stands at his full height. He grabs his phone and taps out a quick text, probably to Enzo, then tosses it on his bed. “Thanks for letting him stay.”
I shrug like it’s not a big deal, but it is. I can barely afford to feed Ian, I don’t know how I’ll feed his friend, too. Not to mention our apartment is way too fucking small to have two teenage boys living in it.
Last time Enzo just camped out on the couch, which worked fine until it came to sharing a bathroom with them. Disgusting doesn’t cut it. And I will lose my shit if I come home and find him with a girl again.
Okay, I lost my shit that time, too. But I’ll really fucking lose it this time.
“No girls,” I say, giving him a hard look. Ian had a girlfriend about a year ago, but otherwise he hasn’t shown much interest in anyone. So, I really only have to worry about girls being here when Enzo is. I love that kid like he’s my own, but sometimes I want to fucking throttle him.
“I know,” he says as he slides a shirt on. “He thought you were gonna cut his dick off last time.” I squeeze my eyes shut as he laughs.
“Can you maybe not talk about your friend’s dick with your mom?” He smiles as he sprays way too much cologne over his body. “Does he want lunch too?” He gives me an apologetic look, but I just nod and turn down the hall. “Hurry or you’ll be late!”
* * *
I roughly yankmy hair into a messy bun as I stalk out of the café. It was a shitty day. I hired a couple of new girls to take Addie and Koda’s places while they’re out—which will likely be forever since I doubt they’re ever coming back.
The new girls are fucking morons.
There hasn’t been an order they haven’t fucked up, and guess who gets bitched at by customers? Not them. I spent most of the day getting yelled at by people for my barista’s using the wrong fucking milk.
I down the rest of my triple espresso and try to force myself to calm down. I can’t have an anger-hazed head when I go to the bar tonight. I need to prove to Spencer he can trust me to look over it while he’s in LA with Taz. If I go in pissed off, I’ll rip everyone’s heads off—which is the worst way to show he can trust me.
It's nearly four in the afternoon and I start my shift at ten but need to get there at least an hour early. I might be able to squeeze in a nap when I get home, but I really need to get groceries and take a shower. And if Enzo is there, I need to lay down the rules for him again.
Just thinking about everything makes me even more exhausted.
A loud rumble breaks through the street, and I glance over my shoulder. A blond-haired asshole with a shit-eating grin is heading straight for me.
Fucking Kiwi.
I swear to God I’m going to kill him.
“Hey, love,” he says when he stops beside me, his booted feet landing roughly on the asphalt.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I snap, whirling toward him.
“You’re such a sweet and gentle soul. Anyone ever tell you that?” That stupid grin never leaves his stupid face. I grind my teeth together as I fold my arms over my chest. His eyes drop to my tits, and I let out a hard breath. “I’m Spencer’s messenger boy.” He reluctantly tears his eyes from my cleavage.
“Well,” I say, waving my hand at him. “I have shit to do, Kiwi. Come on.”
“He said he needs you to come in at seven so Nessa can show you some shit.” I groan and drop my head back.
“Fuck,” I breathe, squeezing my eyes shut. “Anything else?”
“Yeah,” he says, and I lift my head enough to glare at him. “He said to be nice to me. Maybe give me a kiss or two—” I throw my empty cup at him, and he easily catches it. Asshole. “You have a ride?”
“I’m fine.” I start walking again, and he walks his bike beside me, his hands resting casually on the handlebars.
