Page 66 of The Playboy's Playbook

I sit in silence, getting lost in my mind again. “She may be the love of my life, but am I hers?”

“Of course you are, you idiot. She just isn’t gonna tell you that she still loves you right now because part of her wants to be pissed at you. I don’t think there’s a world where you two won’t be in love with each other,” Luke says, his voice smooth and calming.

“Thanks, Dad. I’m glad that I can always count on you to make me happy,” I reply jokingly.

“And this is why I don’t like being nice to your ass. I’ll talk to you in the morning so I can see the boys before I go into my first meeting.” Luke and I end the call and I make my way to my bedroom.

He may hate when I call him Dad, but he is one. To his sons and to me.

And I’m thankful to have him in my life because if it weren’t for him being by my side on the worst night of my adult life, I don’t know where I’d be today.

Six Years Ago

I was fucking plastered and didn’t even realize it.

I called home and Hannah answered. She was pissed but shouted out to mom what happened. Mom picked up the phone and said that I’m sitting my ass in this cold cell because she told me this would happen and refused to come bail me out.

I had to beg and plead with the officer to let me try one more number. The next number I called, I knew he wouldn’t be happy. But he’d be here and that’s all that mattered to me.

Fifteen minutes later, I was walking out of the holding cell and into the waiting area while Luke finished signing off on some paperwork.

I had to reappear before the judge in a month where I’d be getting my sentence for my charges.

The month flew by and Luke took me to my hearing. He left his sons with his brother and gave his employees the day off so that he could be with me.

My mom refused to show up and she forbade Hannah from going, too. That hurt me more than my mom leaving me to sit in the holding cell.

I’m glad Luke was there because I needed him. Otherwise, I’d been all alone.

Just like my mom had said.

I was sentenced to a year in the county jail. Once my mom found out, she was livid and told Luke that once my sentence is over, I’m not welcomed home anymore. While I was away, he arranged to have my things moved to his house.

I was able to get an early release after six months. I was thankful for my short sentence because six months in the county jail was enough to deter me from ever wanting to go back. Luke was glad I was out, but boy did he drill my ass.

His wife, Kelly, was happy to have the extra help since she’d just had their second son, Jensen. She looked at me as an extra set of hands, but Luke saw me helping out with his kids as a way to keep distracted from wanting to drink and party again.

He enrolled me in therapy so I could work through my issues and made sure that I filled my time with enrichment activities that didn’t include drinking or going out.

I spent most of my Saturday mornings doing lawn work, which was fine. The itch came the heaviest in the evenings. My body felt like it was deprived of something. It craved for the burn and without it, I felt like a dead man walking. Somedays were better than others.

He cut off my access to getting alcohol by only allowing me to go to the store if I took him or Clay, his oldest son. He knew I wouldn’t buy alcohol with his son looking at me and asking questions, so I didn’t buy a single case of beer or bottle of whiskey.

I know there were ways around it, but I really wanted to try and get better.

Try and do better.

Clay and I would play outside and then when Jen began to keep up with us, I had him, too. Having to watch both of the boys gave me something I’d never had before.

A sense of responsibility.

They weren’t my kids, but under my watch, I had to make sure they didn’t try to feed the other dirt or set the house on fire.

Living with Luke helped me find myself and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I was on a good path and ready to turn my life around, to have a family like Luke had created.

Someday, I’ll have what Luke has.

Someday, I’ll be happy.

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