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I watch Jax walk out of the room and turn my attention back to my little boy. He looks up at me, his dark brown eyes wide and full of innocence and my heart almost bursts with a rush of pure love for him. His father, Blake, might have been a Grade A asshole, but I am thankful that he gave me the most precious thing in the world.
I walk back into the den and Jax is on his feet pacing the hardwood floor, a signal that he is waiting to leave. “Is he okay?” he asks.
“Yes. He’s sound asleep again now.”
“Good.” He nods. He fidgets as he stands there staring at me and then he stuffs the pockets of his jeans.
“Were the twins okay?” I ask.
“Fine. Still sound asleep too.”
“Thank you for your help.”
“Any time. You know that,” he replies, his voice suddenly thick with emotion.
“Are you going somewhere?”
“No. Yes,” he stammers. “I need to leave, but I didn’t want to just take off without saying goodbye.”
“Oh, okay.” I try to hide my disappointment but I obviously don’t do a very good job.
“Don’t look at me like that, Lucia,” he sighs.
“Like what?”
“Like I just told you your puppy has died or something.”
“I don’t have a puppy.”
“You know what I mean.” He grabs his coat from the back of the sofa and shrugs it on.
“Thank you for the pizza. How much do I owe you?” I ask, unable to keep the sarcasm from my voice. But I’m not a kid anymore. He doesn’t have to buy me pizza. I can afford my own.
He rolls his eyes and walks toward me. “I’m sorry about before. I should never have let that happen.”
“Nothing happened, Jax. Did it?”
“No,” he whispers as he looks down at me with those goddamn twinkly dark eyes. “But I…”
“You what?” I fold my arms over my chest as I glare at him.
“I like spending time with you, Lucia, but I don’t want to give you the wrong idea.”
I can’t help but scowl at him. I hate when he treats me like a child. “And what idea would that be?”
He runs a hand through his thick hair and his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows hard. He looks so uncomfortable and it makes me wonder what the hell happened earlier. Was it me who leaned in to him for a kiss, because it sure as hell felt like it was the other way around. “I would never betray your father.”
“Nobody is asking you to.”
He nods. “Night, Lucia,” he growls before turning on his heel and walking out of the room.
A few seconds later, I hear the front door closing behind him and my heart sinks in my chest. I look around the huge den and have never felt so lonely.
The sound of my phone vibrating on the coffee table distracts me. I always keep it on silent and I groan inwardly as I see the notification from the social media app. I don’t do a lot of social media. My parents have drummed the need to be careful of revealing too much information about myself online, given who our family are and the enemies we have because of that. But I am on one app. I use a fake name, Chica21 and an avatar as my profile pic and there’s nothing personal about me on there. I use it to watch videos of cute dogs, follow my friend Archer’s band and find parenting hacks mostly, but there is this one douchebag who continues to message me on there.
I have blocked his account at least a dozen times, but he just makes a new one and finds me again. It’s become like a game to him now. At first it was just those stupid messages fishing for a conversation or a quick hookup. But they seem to be getting more sinister, like I’m really annoying him that I don’t want to engage with him. As though I have the time to chat to random strangers on the internet.
I swipe the app open and read the message request from user10987636565—I mean couldn’t he try and be a little more original?
