Page 127 of Code Word
“Sure.”
“Did you ever feel like we abandoned you?”
He did a double take. “Uh . . . What?”
“Like the four of us, the band. You’re busy, I know, and we have vastly different lives now. But I feel like I never called enough to ask how you were. Or stopped by to see you and this little one.” I tweaked Benny’s tummy.
“Um,” Wes stalled. “Life’s busy, yes. And our livesarevastly different now. Mine especially. Have there been times when I missed the band, the fun times? Sure. Until I remember how grueling it was and the toll it took on all of us. I don’t miss that. Do I miss you guys?” He made a face. “Yeah.”
“I’m sorry I never called as often as I should have,” I said seriously. “If you ever felt alone when you shouldn’t have been. I want us to hang out more.”
“My life is about play groups and jelly sandwiches.”
I laughed. “I like jelly sandwiches. And I’m totally down for play groups or trips to the park. Imagine all the squirrels we could see at the park!”
Benny put her little hands to her chubby face and her wide eyes went to Wes’s. He narrowed his eyes at me. “Thanks for that.”
I laughed as Roscoe came out. I’d been expecting Maddox, but nope, it was the big fella. Wes gave me a nod. “See you inside. And yes to what you said. Definitely.”
I smiled as he walked away, and Roscoe came over. I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect from him, but I knew it wasn’t gonna be good. “Roscoe,” I said quietly.
He gave me a tight smile, and he shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. “Blake,” he said, and yeah, he was not overlyhappy with me. “Maddox has just gone to the bathroom, so I wanted to grab you real quick.”
“Okay.”
“Look,” he said softly. “The argument between you and Maddox is between you two. You have a long history and I’m not getting in the middle of that. I just wanted to let you know that he’s been a wreck this week, and his anxiety has been through the roof. And this kind of stress has set his progress back two years.”
Oh, god.
“I just wanted you to be aware of that before you guys talk,” he added quickly, face lined with worry.
“Fuck, Roscoe, I . . . yeah, thanks.”
I was going to say I didn’t know. But of course I didn’t know because I’d been ignoring Maddox’s calls.
Maddox came out through the door then, and yeah, it was pretty clear he’d had a rough week. He looked tired and wary and really fucking sad—he looked much like he had on the tour before his epic breakdown—and damn, every ounce of anger I had for him dissipated.
Goddammit.
I left Roscoe, walked over to meet Maddox, and collected him in a hug. He was surprised, if his tenseness was any indicator.
“Hey, dickbag,” I said.
He scoffed. “Hey.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, not letting him go.
“Me too,” he replied. “I really am.”
I pulled back and kept my hand on his neck. “You okay?”
He kinda nodded but then shook his head, his eyes cast down. “Not really. I can’t... I can’t be fighting with you. To think you hated me?—”
“I don’t hate you,” I said, giving the back of his neck a squeeze. “I could never hate you.”
“You were so mad at me,” he murmured.
“I was mad at everything,” I replied. “But mostly at me.”
