Page 45 of Outlaw Heartstrings
“I’m sad because my reading group is having a father-son challenge. But I don’t have a dad, so I told them I can’t do it. Then Timothy and Brad and their friends made fun of me.” His eyes brim with tears.
My nostrils flare, but I try to hide my fury. Nothing makes me angrier than little jerks picking on this sweet kid because they think it makes them look cool. Except maybe the adults who organize things like this without considering that every family’s circumstances are different.
Besides, I happen to know that Brad’s so-called ‘dad’ is a douchebag anyway, so it’s not like he’s going to be participating, either.
“Don’t you worry about them, Jagger. You know what I say about bullies, right?” I brush a dark curl off his forehead, and he nods. “I promise that I’ll speak to the event facilitator and see what we can do. I bet I could do the challenge with you?” I give him a wink and am rewarded with a tiny grin.
“Yeah. I bet,” he echoes me.
But later at night after I’ve put Jagger to bed and have sent off a strongly-worded email to the library’s event coordinator, I realize that the person I’m most upset with is myself.
Jaggerdoeshave a dad—who’s a particularly great guy—and I’m the one depriving him of that relationship. Before Easton showed up, it was easy to just carry on, but now? Now, Easton is here and he wants his son to know him.
Shit, I feel bad, and this adulting stuff is freaking hard.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad having another grown-up to share some of the parental decision-making with. Because sometimes, after a long day of working multiple jobs andhelping with homework, simply trying to decide what to cook for dinner makes my brain hurt.
Tonight, I’m supposed to be studying my real estate stuff to prepare for re-taking the exam.
Yet for the past forty-five minutes, I’ve been staring blankly at my computer screen, when I should be trying to read through my online material. I’m not getting very far.
Trying to concentrate is impossible.
Especially when the memory of making out with my nephew’s dad this afternoon at work keeps clawing its way into my mind.
Easton. The elevator. The kiss. The entire situation keeps running away with my thoughts. Let’s just say that my computer screen has gone to sleep more times than I can count.
I don’t know how the hell I thought that kissing that man would be a good idea. Things between Easton and me are already complicated enough as is. Adding sexual tension to that dumpster fire is the last thing any of us needs. I’m doing my best to keep my hormones on a leash and to keep from doing anything stupid, but I feel like this animal attraction is starting to take control of me.
I slam my laptop closed.Then I flinch. I can’t afford to break this one. I’ve had it since high school.
I get a notification on my phone. Rolling over in bed, I pick up my device and see that Raya just posted a carousel of pictures on social media. Food pics and bikini pics and shopping pics and pics at the spa.
She still hasn’t read my texts, though.Grrr…
I open my messaging app and re-read the last few messages I sent to her. In those texts, I’m all but begging her to call me. I want her side of the story. I want to knowifshe lied about those emails,whyshe lied about those emails. Iwant to give her a chance to prove that she’s not the monster here.
As much as it hurts to admit this to myself, Jagger is seemingly the last thing on my sister’s mind. Here I am, worrying myself into a tizzy over whether she’d approve of me letting Easton into Jagger’s life. Yet she clearly doesn’t give a fuck.
My chest burns with resentment. This isn’t fair. All I’ve ever done is try to protect my sister. Meanwhile, she doesn’t seem to care about anyone but herself.
Justifiably pissed off, I abandon my real estate studies for the moment and pick up my phone. If I don’t do this now, I’ll chicken out.
It takes three rings before Easton answers, and when he does, his voice is all deep and groggy. Hearing it makes me warm and tingly in all the wrong places. I quickly shake my head as the intrusive thoughts poke through.
I clear my throat. “Umm, hi. Is…this a bad time?”
Crap. What if I’m interrupting him in bed with someone?Why did I think it would be a good idea to call him at this time of night?
“No, no.” I hear him moving around, like he’s trying to sit up. “Just had a hard physiotherapy session today. I crashed on the couch afterward and I guess I fell asleep.”
When I don’t say anything else, Easton clears his throat.
“What’s up, Alba?” he asks softly. “We both know you wouldn’t be calling me this late unless it’s important.”
My reservations raise their ugly heads again. But this time, I just accept that this is what I have to do. My nephew needs his father, and I can’t stand in the way of that.
“Actually, I was calling about Jagger. He was feeling pretty bummed today because his reading group is having some father-son thing and the kids made fun of him for notbeing able to participate and…” I pull in a breath. “I think you were right. We should tell him that you’re his father.”
