Stirred (Twisted Fox Book 1) Page 9

  Those were my worries.

  The truth had shattered Georgia. For years, she wondered where he was and why he didn’t want her. Eventually, she tracked him down with the hope that he regretted leaving us.

  He didn’t.

  He had two other children.

  Two other children he was a dad to.

  A real dad to them.

  She’d left with a larger hole in her heart.

  She finally had to come to terms with not being wanted.

  Who will Noah be—me or Georgia?

  Wanting the person or not giving a shit?

  In the end, I told him the truth.

  There were mixed reactions.

  His therapist said I was wrong.

  Georgia said she understood.

  I’d prepared the little guy’s heart, so it’d be stronger.

  Maybe it was wrong.

  Maybe we weren’t so much alike, and the pain from the absence of a parent was harder for him than me. It could be different because he lost a mother, not a father. I had plenty of friends with fathers not in the picture. Mothers not in the picture were less common.

  I have a feeling if Noah ever seeks out Heather, it’ll be the same as what happened with Georgia.

  “Maybe there was some confusion. I’m not—” Jamie stops and gives Mary a warm smile. “It’s nice to meet you.” She whips around, setting her eyes on the court, her shoulders tense.

  Not as tense as mine, but pretty damn close.

  These are the moments I feel like a failure.

  I don’t regret Noah, but I regret who his mother is.

  Never in the time we’d been together—nearly a decade—did I think Heather would turn her back on us like she did.

  Her actions have made me question any type of relationship.

  I haven’t been celibate, having my fair share of hookups, but that’s it. I’m too weak to give them what they want. My heart is too untrusting after giving my all to someone for so long, only to get shit on.

  My guard is up for both of us.

  So I fuck a little here and there, but I always go home to Noah.

  Noah sends us a wave from the court before they start the game.

  “He looks adorable in his uniform,” Jamie says, leaning into me.

  “Grace tried to bedazzle it,” Finn comments.

  “It would’ve been cute,” Grace argues.

  “Sorry, babe, but no.”

  Finn gets smacked in the back of the head again, this time by Grace, and he chuckles.

  Our circle is strange—a heap of sexual tension.

  Grace and Finn flirt like no other, and they’re opposites. She’s the sweet schoolteacher while Finn is far from innocent. He’s been through hell and back, and he refuses to ask Grace out, in fear he’ll rub his tainted life on her pristine one.

  Sexual tension bleeds off Lola and Silas. Everyone is waiting for the day they bang. They share the same personality—sarcastic assholes who date around and avoid commitment.

  That leaves Archer, Georgia, and me as the odd ones out.

  Archer isn’t a dater.

  Georgia is too busy enjoying life for a boyfriend—or so she says.

  And I have my issues.

  “Go, Noah!” Georgia cheers.

  Pride punches me while I watch him play. It’s entertaining since most of the kids don’t know what the hell they’re doing, but Noah is having a blast.

  Since the kids are just learning the game, there isn’t a winner.

  “Jamie, you’re going out for tacos with us,” Georgia insists after the game.

  Everyone’s attention whips to her in expectation, and her eyes avert to the bleachers that are clearing out.

  One thing I appreciate is how they’re not acting strange around Jamie, as if it were normal that she’s here even though they all know the situation.

  “Come on,” Noah says, moving to her side and jumping up and down.

  She shoots me a questioning look.

  “Yeah, come on,” I say, throwing my arm back to gesture toward the doors.

  “At least you have decent taste in tacos,” I tell Jamie.

  She’s sitting next to me at the best taco joint in town.

  Granted, La Mesa is the only taco place in town.

  The food is to die for, and Noah loves their nachos and cinnamon churros. We eat here a few times a month with the gang since there’s enough room for everyone and an arcade in the back for the kids to play games.

  Jamie points at me with her fork. “At least, you have decent taste in tacos.”

  “How about we agree we both have decent taste in tacos?”

  “Fine, but I ordered first, so you copied me.”

  I chuckle, turning in my chair, and rest my elbow on the table while focusing on her. “I order the same thing every time!”

  “As do I.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “Ask Ashley.”

  “You two still best friends?”

  She nods. “Yep, and she’ll confirm I’m a creature of habit. Shredded chicken tacos have always been my go-to.” She bites into her lower lip. “I do get their quesadillas sometimes too. They’re delish.”

  I throw my head back. “Can we both agree my quesadillas are more delish?”

  Everyone around us is having their own conversations, and Noah is in the arcade, playing with Georgia, while Jamie and I are wrapped in our own little world.

  “You have a major hard-on about your quesadillas, huh?”

  “They’re my specialty.” I wink at her.

  “Dad!” Noah comes barreling toward us and snags a churro from his plate. “Can I hang out at Jamie’s tonight?”

  Like when Georgia asked Jamie to come to dinner, everyone’s attention darts to her. The table falls silent.

  And also like when Georgia asked her, she appears uncomfortable as she shifts in her chair.

  Noah pouts out his lower lip. “Pretty, pretty please?”

  Not only has he put Jamie on the spot, but he’s put me on the spot too.

  “Buddy,” I chime in, “we don’t know if Jamie has plans tonight.”

  “I mean, I have the night off,” Jamie rushes out, her eyes directed at me. “I don’t have any plans and would love the company.”

  “Yay!” Noah dances in place with the churro in his hand. “We can eat cupcakes and watch cartoons and play games.”

  “You sure it’s okay?” I mouth to her.

  She nods with a smile before mouthing, “If it’s okay with you?”

  I glance back at Noah, who’s chomping on his churro. “All right, you can stay over there, but you have to promise to behave.”

  “I will!” Noah chirps.

  Silas slaps the table. “Looks like we’re having guys’ night!”

  “Are we doing Twisted Fox or Down Home?” Maliki asks.

  We tend to have guys’ night at one of our bars. When one of us needs a break from our workplace, we go to the other’s.

  “Twisted Fox,” Finn says. “That way, we can try to talk Archer into joining us.”

  “Why does it only have to be guys’ night?” Georgia asks. “I nominate it to be guys’ and girls’ night.”

  Georgia lives up to the little sister role through and through. Even as a grown-up, she crashes my parties and always has to be in the know. Not that I mind. I love that she enjoys spending time with us, and that way, I can also keep an eye on her.

  “It can’t be a guys’ and girls’ night because Archer will act like we have the plague if you’re there,” Finn says.

  “Archer can kiss my ass,” she fires back.

  “It’s okay. We’ll have a girls’ night,” Lola says, a sly smile spreading along her bright red lips. “At Twisted Fox.”

  Georgia laughs, reaches across the table, and high-fives her.

  “It’d be nice if you stopped stalking us, ladies,” Silas comments, smirking.

  Georgia turns her attention to Finn. “Prepare for men to hit on Grace at our gi
rls’ night since you want nothing to do with us, and you can’t cockblock her.”

  Grace’s cheeks redden as she hisses Georgia’s name.

  “Nobody is hitting on any of you,” Finn snaps.

  Lola rolls her eyes. “Someone had better hit on me.”

  Silas flips her off.

  I lean in to whisper in Jamie’s ear, goose bumps crawling up her neck as I get closer. “Seriously, if you have plans, I can be the bad guy and tell Noah no.”

  She massages her hand over her neck, as if attempting to erase her reaction to me. “No plans, seriously. Go have fun.”

  I don’t remember the last time I had a guys’ night.

  Sure, every so often, I have drinks with the guys before heading home, but nothing like this.

  Whiskey—a rarity for me—is in my glass. I tend to stick to beer when I drink.

  Noah is in good hands tonight, and I need to drink away my thoughts of the woman whose hands he’s in.

  My relationship with Jamie is changing. She’s becoming like family to us.

  Noah is falling in love with her.

  And me?

  When she’s around, my heart clenches—and also battles with my brain.

  It’s right, my heart says.

  It’s wrong, my brain chimes in.

  Finn, Silas, Maliki, and I are huddled around a table in the corner of the bar, shooting the shit. I called in our part-time bartender to cover for Archer tonight, and we’ve been trying to drag him away from the bar for an hour, but he’s reluctant.

  “How’s the bar going?” I ask Maliki.

  He shrugs, circling his hand around the neck of his beer bottle. “Same shit, different day.”

  At one time, Maliki and I had planned to open a bar together, but when his father nearly lost their family bar, he moved home and took over. Before opening Twisted Fox, I checked with him to make sure he was cool with it. We aren’t direct competition, but I didn’t want to step on anyone’s toes.

  He was fucking ecstatic for me.

  And wanted to kick my ass for doubting if he would be.

  “Oh, wow, fancy seeing you jerks here,” Georgia says, coming into view.

  Lola and Grace are behind her with drinks in their hands. They set their drinks down, then drag another table and stools next to our table, and join us.

  “Isn’t the little sister supposed to quit being annoying to the big brother when she gets older?” Finn asks.

  Georgia narrows her eyes on him. “Shut up. Don’t act like you don’t love it when Grace is around.”

  Grace’s cheeks redden, and she twirls a strawberry-blonde strand of hair around her finger. “Are … you okay with us interrupting?”

  “You know I don’t care,” I say, jerking my head toward the guys. “Neither do they. They just like giving you a hard time.”

  “Almost all of you don’t care,” Lola chimes in, her attention moving to Archer, who’s talking to the bartender.

  “Which is why Georgia needs to go sit in the corner by herself when Archer comes over,” Finn states.

  “Archer isn’t a child, so you need to stop worrying about how he feels.” Georgia shrugs. “I’m cooler than him anyway.”

  “That is true,” Silas says. “She’s nowhere near as grumpy as Archer.”

  “Archer is only grumpy when Georgia is around,” Finn argues. “Cause and motherfucking effect.”

  Georgia rolls her eyes. “He’ll get over it.”

  “Will either of you ever explain why you hate each other?” Silas asks.

  Grace’s and Lola’s eyes nervously shoot to Georgia.

  “Our personalities clash,” Georgia answers before downing drink.

  People stop at our table to say hi and offer to buy us drinks. We might have some pain-in-the-ass customers, but I love the majority of our clientele. Archer remains behind the bar, slinging drinks while also eyeing us, and I’m clueless whether he’ll join us now since Georgia is here.

  He can get the fuck over that.

  “Have you decided what we’re doing for Noah’s birthday?” Georgia asks.

  “He’s narrowed it down to a snow resort, a water park, or Chuck E. Cheese,” I answer.

  “Dear Lord, please don’t let it be Chuck E. Cheese,” Silas says with a shudder.

  “Why?” Lola asks. “Don’t all your nineteen-year-old girlfriends love Chuck E. Cheese?”

  “Piss off,” he grumbles, and they both crack up in laughter.

  Swear to God, they need to fuck and get it out of the way.

  Same with Grace and Finn.

  Scratch that. It’ll only create more problems if my friends start fucking Georgia’s friends.

  Thank fuck none of them have a thing for Georgia.

  We’d have problems.

  I love my friends, but that’s against bro code.

  It’s crossing the line.

  Just like me thinking about touching Heather’s sister is crossing the motherfucking line.

  So why do I want to?

  As I sit here drinking, why is she on my mind?

  “Look who’s finally joining us,” Georgia says, wiping away my thoughts.

  Archer is standing at the table, a Jack and Coke in his hand and a glare on his face. Seconds later, he turns around and storms away.

  Georgia jumps up from her stool. “Oh, my God!”

  She scurries behind Archer, grabbing his elbow, and he swings back to look at her. They exchange words, him tipping his head down as they talk to each other, until he runs his hand through his hair. He nods, and when they return, Archer slides a stool next to me and sits.

  We drink.

  We laugh.

  We have a good-ass time.

  Three hours later, I grab my phone to text Sylvia and inform her I’m on my way home. My hand freezes at the realization that she isn’t babysitting.

  It’s the first night Noah has stayed somewhere other than my home or Georgia’s.

  I’m letting Jamie in.

  And I hope to God she doesn’t rupture our hearts.

  15

  Jamie

  My phone rings at the same time I crawl into bed.

  To say the day has been exhausting is an understatement. I worked a double before Noah’s game and went to dinner, and then Noah and I watched movies when we got home. Noah crashed on my couch a few hours later, and I carried him to my guest bedroom. He whined as I tucked him in the same way Cohen had the night Noah was sick.

  When I grab my phone, I see Cohen is calling.

  He called to check in on Noah a few hours ago and told him good night.

  Is he that paranoid that he’s calling again?

  No way am I waking up Noah.

  “Hello?” I answer, stuffing a pillow behind my head and making myself comfortable.

  “Hey, Jamie,” he says, his voice sounding off. “How’s my guy doing?”

  What’s off about his voice is the slight slur with each word.

  “The better question is how are you doing?” I reply with a laugh.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Come on. You’re drunk as a skunk.”

  He chuckles. “You know, I’ve never understood what that saying means, and I hear it a lot at my job.”

  “Yeah, me neither.” I stretch out my legs and fight back a yawn, not wanting him to end the call because he thinks I’m tired. “Did you have fun at your guys’ night?”

  “Actually, I did.”

  “That’s good.”

  “It’s been a while since I’ve detoured from my two-beer rule.”

  “Two-beer rule?”

  “Georgia has been swamped with work and school, so Noah has been with Sylvia more. I get nervous he’ll need something or that he’ll get hurt. Not that Sylvia is a bad babysitter. I’m just a nervous-ass dad. So if I grab a drink, it’s two beers.”

  “But tonight?” My heart races as I cross my ankles and then uncross them.

  “Tonight, I know he’s in good hands.”

&nb
sp; Biting away the urge to squeal, I grab the fluffy pillow next to me and place it against my smile.

  “I’m sorry for being such a dick to you at first.” An exasperated breath leaves him. “My trust in people is shit.”

  I drag the pillow away, still frazzled. “I get it. I’d be protective too.”

  “I love that you understand. That you get me.” A light hmm leaves him. “It’s hot.”

  I force a nervous laugh and wait for him to tell me he’s kidding.

  He doesn’t.

  All he does is wait for me to say something.

  “Wow,” I drawl. “You really are drunk as a skunk.”

  “Guilty as charged.”

  “Do you need a ride home?”

  “I’m home. Silas was the DD. He’s having issues with his girlfriend and crashing on the couch. She doesn’t like when he has guys’ nights.”

  “Lola? Did the girls not crash your party?”

  I don’t see Lola being that overprotective of Silas, but if I had a boyfriend that hot, I’d probably want to keep an eye on him too.

  “Silas wishes Lola were his girlfriend. Hell, we all do.”

  “But he flirted with Lola all day.”

  “Lola won’t date Silas, so he has Helena. None of us are exactly sure what Helena is to him—girlfriend, fuck buddy, definitely a pain in his ass, and she’s a nightmare. His dumbass let her move into his place last month. So when they fight, he crashes at one of our places to avoid her.”

  “That sounds like a mess.”

  “Guys like us”—his voice turns strained—“we’re not built for relationships anymore.”

  “You’re not built for a relationship because of Heather?”

  “Because of Heather,” he whispers.

  “One bad relationship, and you’re done?”

  “One bad relationship?” he scoffs. “Jamie, I got fucked over big time.”

  For a moment, I’m at a loss for words. I don’t want to bad-mouth my sister, but no way am I sticking up for her actions. She did fuck him over big time.

  “What about you?” he asks, snapping me away from my thoughts. “You dating anyone? Word is, the Sprinkles heir held your heart.”

  Oh, my God.

  “The Sprinkles heir?” I bite back a laugh.

  “Sally Sprinkles’s son.”

  “How do you know about Seth?”