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“I’m good.” I chuckle at his harsh tone. “When will you be back?”
“You missing me already, kid?”
“No,” he rushes out. “No, I’m just wondering. So I know when to expect you.” I laugh again. Kennedy’s kid through and through.
“I’m on my way back now,” I say. “But I have to deal with some shit. It’ll probably be a few days before I see you again.” He’s silent again, and I check my phone to make sure he’s still on the line.
“Alright,” he finally says. “See you later.”
“Call if you need anything else,” I say. He clears his throat awkwardly before hanging up. When I look back at my phone, it’s just my regular lock screen. She must’ve hung up when she saw I wasn’t there anymore.
I should call her back, but I need to get this shit done. The faster I get Ginger back to Axel, the faster I can be home with my girl. And her son.
My family.
Mine.
Kennedy
My head feels like it’s going to roll off my shoulders. It’s throbbing, spinning, and I feel like I’m dying. I smell like I’m dying. I’m sure I look like I’m dying, too.
I’m never drinking again.
Never.
I stare up at the spinning ceiling and try to calm my breathing. Breathe through the nausea. Breathe through it.
Someone—probably Ian—knocks on the door, and I wince. There’s a brief pause and I stupidly think he walked away, but he knocks again. Groaning, I slide from my bed and crawl the few feet to the door, my legs too weak to hold my body up.
One eye closes as I try to steady myself, then the other one follows. I can’t puke on my carpet. It’ll be a bitch to clean. Bathroom. I need the bathroom.
I blindly reach for the doorknob and pull the door open. I crack one eye open and glare up at Ian, who looks downright pissed.
“Move,” I breathe, swatting at his leg. He doesn’t budge. “Ian, move.” I feel it. The churning in my stomach is getting worse. I scramble to my feet, but the constant movement makes me even dizzier and I nearly topple over.
“Mom!” Ian shouts, a scolding note in his voice. I brace myself on the doorframe, one hand on my rolling stomach.
“Bathroom,” I push out. “Sick.” His eyes widen comically. It’s a sick sense of déjà vu as I’m hoisted into his arms and rushed to the bathroom. He unceremoniously drops me onto the floor, my knees crashing into the tile, then runs to the door. To his credit, he’s handling my puke a lot better than Archer.
I rest my forehead on my forearm, leaning against the toilet as I try to breathe through it.
“What do you need?” Ian asks.
“Hair tie and water,” I rasp. A black silk scrunchy is shoved into my hand before he hurries away, his footsteps rattling the walls. He rushes back into the room, a bottle of water already open, as he shoves it at me. I grunt my thanks as I take it.
“Is this about Kiwi?” he asks quietly, almost shyly.
It’s moments like this that I remember he’s still just a kid. He might be big, he might look like a man, but he’s not. He’s just a boy. My baby. And me coming home drunk, carried by Spencer, probably scared him half to death.
I pride myself on being his mom and I know I fuck up sometimes, but last night I really fucked up.
“No,” I say as I slowly turn to face him, pressing my back against the toilet and folding my legs. Taking a small sip of water, I watch him. He’s holding himself tightly against the doorframe, his eyes worried as he stares back at me. He looks exhausted, like he hadn’t slept last night. And knowing him, he probably didn’t. “Are you okay, bud?”
He straightens his shoulders, forcing himself to be strong. I wonder how often he does that without me realizing it.
“I’m fine.” I take another sip of water, letting the coolness soothe my sore throat. “But you and Kiwi had that fight and he left, then you came home drunk…” He trails off, his face still guarded.
“I just had a couple drinks on an empty stomach. It hit me harder than I had expected,” I say, sighing softly. “But this wasn’t about Ezra. Ez and I are—” Memories of last night come flooding back and I squeeze my eyes tightly shut. “Fine.” I can’t believe I did that. Had phone sex with him. I’ve never done that, and I never thought I would. But leave it to Ezra to make me forget all my boundaries.
