by Piper Rayne
“We wanted to get out of the city for a while. Figured a day trip to check on you would be nice.” My mom forces a smile.
She really wants to see where I am on solving the problem. She’s not opposed to me cheating to win, I’m sure. Imagine my surprise when I turned in a paper my sophomore year in high school and my teacher pulled me aside to talk about plagiarism, only for me to find out my mom had switched her paper for mine during the night. Talk about feeling inadequate.
“I’m not showing you the problem,” I say, pouring her a cup of coffee.
“Then let’s take this time to talk about some of your life decisions. Like you working from home in order to care for your delinquent roommate who crashed his motorcycle, probably from driving recklessly.” She sips her coffee. “This is too strong. Do you have milk?”
I stand and pull the milk from the fridge.
“Do you have almond or soy?” she asks.
“We’re not Whole Foods,” I say, grabbing the regular whole milk.
My mom has a specific look when I’ve annoyed her. So far, I’ve seen it three times in this short visit. I like to count because the child inside me enjoys pissing her off.
“Are you dating him?” my dad asks, which is surprising. He didn’t even come out of his office when I went to prom.
“We’re friends, and I’d rather not talk to you about it right now.” I sip my water.
My dad pats my hand. “Okay, sweetheart, but I will agree with your mother. A man like him might be easy on the eyes, but he’s going to be hard on the bank account.”
I stare blankly, and he chuckles. Another stupid joke.
“He runs his own tattoo parlor,” I say.
“Rian, you cannot be serious. Is this some phase you’re going through? You need to be with someone with goals and dreams and… money.” Mom nods the entire time like a bobblehead. Barbie the bobblehead. No one would buy one because they’d be nauseated by how much it bobbles.
“I told you I don’t want to talk about it.”
“That’s not an option. We’re your parents,” my mom says.
“And I’m not twelve.”
There’s the look again. We’re up to four times now.
“What on Earth do you talk about? Surely you have nothing in common.” My dad continuing this line of conversation makes me want to bash my head on the table.
“Another topic please,” I say.
My dad looks at my mom and they nod in agreement, but it won’t be the last they have to say about Dylan.
But if they can’t talk to me about the math problem or Dylan, there isn’t a ton left.
“Looks like you haven’t baked in a while?” my dad says, scanning the counters. He wants a sweet since my mom limits them as though he’s a child.
“Not in a few days.”
My mom exaggerates leaning over as she examines my body in the chair. “You looked thinner over there.” She motions to the wall that Dylan had me pinned against.
Reliving that moment, my body warms like I’ve sunk into a hot bath. “Is that a compliment?”
“You’re very touchy today. I think you’re probably getting your period,” Mom suggests. “Johann is going to beat you if you don’t start making smart decisions. I feel like we raised you well.”
And here we go. Same old same old.
She stares at my father with her trembling chin. He puts his hand on hers on the table, leaving the apple core in the middle.
“We did great,” he says. “She has a job and supports herself. What else can we ask for? I think we knew at three there were no Nobel Prizes in our future.”
Cue my mouth drop.
I must make a noise because both of them look at me as though they’re surprised I’m in the room. My dad’s other hand reaches for mine and I’m too dumbstruck to care.
“No offense, sweetie. It’s like winning the lottery.”
I stand so fast my parents’ eyes widen. “Did I miss the part where the two of you won a Nobel Prize? Is it hidden in a box somewhere?” A strangled laugh erupts out of me, which is good because at least they won’t see me cry. “You two get off on how smart you are. Well, I’m sorry that two smart people didn’t make an uber-smart person, but I am smart. And if I choose to write textbooks for a living, then so be it. And if I run out and marry Dylan, then that’s my choice.” I point at myself. “Me, because I’m an adult.”
“I doubt Dylan is the marrying type. And even if he did, he screams cheater.” My mom rolls her eyes.
My hand flies out, pointing at the door. “Out!” I inhale a deep breath. “Out. Leave.”
“Sweetie, you’re overreacting,” my dad says.
“We’ll talk after you’re done with your period,” my mom says, standing and tucking in her chair. “You’re obviously emotional.”
My arm drops and my fists clench at my sides.
“It wasn’t a knock on you,” my dad says, but my mom pushes him toward the door.
“You’re lucky to have us, and you need to realize that one of these days,” my mom says. “Poor Sierra would probably love to have her mother here.”
It’s game over. All I see is red. Words and phrases flash in my mind. I could use the classic fuck off, or I could go into detail about how she’s the worst mom ever.
“Just please leave before I say something that would hurt you like you’ve hurt me all these years,” I say in a calm voice.
That sentence makes her stop. “Rian.” She sighs.
I shake my head, swallowing the lump and pushing back the tears.
The apartment door opens, and my parents rear back, the door barely missing them. Jax slides by, nodding his hello but never stopping to converse.
“Who’s this?” Mom asks, but I don’t answer.
Jax looks at me standing near the kitchen table and stops on the way to his bedroom. His gaze flickers from my parents to me and back to my parents. For once not one smart comment comes out of his mouth.
“Just go, Mom,” I say softly.
My mom looks at Jax. “Just another horrible decision. Let’s go, Larry.” She squares her shoulders and walks out the door.
“Bye, sweetie. We love you. I never meant—”
“Larry!” my mom screams.
“Call us after you’re done menstruating.”
He shuts the door and I collapse into a chair, throwing the apple core at the door. My head falls into my folded arms and I weep for everything I’m not in my parents’ eyes.
“Hey,” Jax says, running his hand over my back. “You okay?”
I sit up and wipe the tears from my eyes. “You know, you and Dylan think your lives are so hard because you don’t have parents, but not all parents are good people.”
He slides the chair beside me out from the table and lowers himself into it. “I get that.”
“They expect me to be perfect. I was valedictorian.” I swipe a tear. “I was dean’s list every semester in college. I never did anything bad. Never got arrested or in trouble. I respect my elders. I’m polite and courteous to everyone I meet. Do you think any of that is enough for them?” I point toward the door. “No, because all they care about is whether I get some award they can brag to their friends about.”
My voice shakes, and my anxiety is through the roof. The tears won’t stop piling on top of one another as they spill down my cheeks.
“Hey.” Jax slides his chair closer. Gripping my one arm, he pulls me to him. “It’s okay. Parents suck. I mean, I don’t have any, but mine would have hated me. Talk about a disappointment.” He pulls me into his chest and his large hand runs down my back.
“Don’t make me laugh. I want to be mad,” I say.
His chest rumbles with laughter. “I’m serious though. You are what parents hope for when they decide to have kids. I’m the nightmare. If your parents don’t see that, then fuck them. I’m also proof that you don’t need a parent to survive.”
Oddly enough, his words help me. I know my parents and I were
coming to a crossroads. That eventually our relationship would change as we moved in different directions like a fork in the road. I just hoped we could be headed in the same direction.
The apartment door opens behind me, and Jax’s body stiffens. I turn my head and find Dylan standing there. I sit up straighter as Jax releases me almost with a shove.
But it doesn’t matter because Dylan walks right back out and slams the door.
Chapter Twenty
Dylan
I press the elevator button, and when it doesn’t come right away, I race down the stairs. I’m pissed at myself for being a coward when Rian’s parents showed up, but damn, I’m confused about that kiss and where we stand. How would I sit and talk with her parents?
How naive of me to assume whatever happened between her and Jax was over. I never asked her after my accident.
I walk into Ink Envy.
“Boss.” Lyle slides off his stool.
I raise my hand as I pass him.
“We need to talk,” Frankie says.
“Later,” I mumble.
She’s in the middle of a tattoo, so that gives me time to lock myself in the office. I slam my door, lock it, and sit in my office chair. Staring at my cast, I want to take a pair of scissors and cut it off. I want to go out there and take a client and lose myself for hours in art and ink. Get my mind off all this shit swirling around.
All I can think of is Rian’s lips and the softness of her touch.
Then I picture her in Jax’s arms.
He was the one consoling her after her parents said something else to hurt her. Hell, they have their opinions on me too, I’m sure. With them witnessing our first kiss, she probably took a heavy dose of disappointed looks from both of them.
That’s why I stayed at Seth’s, waiting for them to leave so I could go back in and apologize for running out. Joke’s on me though, because once again, Jax sneaked in and got the girl.
A knock sounds on the door.
“Not now,” I yell.
“Okay, boss,” Lyle says.
But no less than a minute later, another knock sounds on the door. When I say nothing, a key is inserted and the door is unlocked.
Frankie stands there, dangling her keys in front of her. “Why are you locking yourself in the office? And you look like shit, by the way. Like a fifteen-year-old boy who got his heart broken. What the hell happened?”
I run my hand down my face. “Rian shaved me.” Her eyes light up with intrigue, so I raise my hand to stop her mind before it gets too carried away. “Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure she’s into Jax.”
Her eyebrows shoot up and she shuts the door before coming over to the chair on the other side of the desk.
“You’re with a client,” I say.
“She needed a breather. I’m giving her a five-minute break.” She sits. “Talk to me. What happened?”
Before I can respond, the door busts open and Jax stands there. “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?”
I put my hand up to stop him. “Just, everyone, leave me the fuck alone.”
“You need to leave,” Jax says to Frankie.
Her eyebrows shoot up. “In case you missed it, I’m the second in command around here.” She dangles her keys in the air.
“This has nothing to do with the business.” Jax holds the door open and gestures for her to leave.
“I’m not in the mood to rehash our fucked up history right now.” I boot up my computer.
“Too fucking bad. I’m done with this shit.” He squares his eyes on Frankie. “Kindly leave.”
Frankie straightens her back and crosses her legs, getting comfortable. “I’ve been here a long time and they’re both my friends. I’m sure as hell not going to leave a man like you in charge of him seeing the error of his ways.”
“A man like me?”
“Yeah. A man who probably thinks commitment is for the weak. A man who dates a younger version of the same woman he’s always dated because he has some warped sense of self-image when in reality, people look at him like he’s pathetic.”
“You know nothing about me,” Jax says. “You’ve known me less than a week.”
Frankie crosses her arms. “I know your type all too well.”
A hollow and bitter laugh falls from Jax. “Don’t take out your heartbreaks on me. I wasn’t the guy who fucked you over.”
She laughs right back.
I roll my eyes. Thankfully, she doesn’t say anything else. Jax bows dramatically and ushers his hand toward the door. Frankie shakes her head.
He slams the door. “Fine, you’re about to find out a lot of things about your boss and me then.”
“Can we please do this another time?” I ask.
Frankie looks at me with concerned eyes. That’s when I make the decision that Frankie shouldn’t be in the room right now. Jax is right on that. Whatever is going down behind this door, she doesn’t need to know about it. No one does but us.
Jax leans against the wall with his arms folded across his chest.
“Just give us ten minutes,” I say to Frankie.
She inspects my face. Oh, how she’s used to being a bodyguard for everyone but herself. Standing, she touches my shoulder and walks to the door. “Don’t listen to his bullshit about relationships.”
Jax shakes his head, and she flips him off. Whatever is transpiring between these two isn’t good. Which is weird, because if someone would’ve asked me to bet money on how well they’d get along, I would’ve said they’d be best friends within a week.
She leaves and shuts the door. Jax pushes off the wall and sits in the chair Frankie just occupied. He leans his forearms on his knees and clasps his hands together.
His head hangs low and he speaks to the floor. “I don’t want her, man.”
I lean back in my chair, my casted arm lying on the armrest and my other hand fiddling with a pen. “Could’ve fooled me.”
He peeks up. “I’ve been an asshole. I thought it would be fun to fuck with you, but that all ended the night of your accident. That isn’t to say if she wasn’t so hung up on you, I wouldn’t have banged her.”
My jaw clenches.
“But that’s all she would have been,” he says. “Just like Naomi was.”
There were times I wondered if Jax and I would ever mend our rift. Could there ever be a time when we could get back to being friends? What would the conversation consist of? Would we skate over the Naomi situation or dissect it? I guess by him bringing her up, he wants to get it all out in the open.
“I never wanted her. It’s no excuse, but she was consoling me about Winnie and it just kind of happened,” he says. “She loved you. She did.”
I’m surprised he’s ready to show his vulnerability. I huff. “I think she loved both of us.”
He looks at me and shrugs. Naomi wanted us to be morphed into the same person. She loved my stability and the fact I was headed to college. She also loved Jax’s wild streak and tendency to get into fights. To say I was surprised when I walked in on them would be a lie. Which is probably why I felt more betrayed by Jax than Naomi.
“But Rian is different, Phillips. She likes you, and for some fucked up reason, you keep pushing her away.” He looks at me, expecting an answer.
“Man, you know just like I do that Rian isn’t anything like Naomi.”
“Which is a good thing.” He leans back.
I nod. True enough. “You know her type. She’s meant for an accountant who works nine to five and is home every weekend. A guy who gives her the American dream of a house and two point five kids and a dog running around the yard. A guy who gets excited for pizza nights on Friday and movies on Saturdays.”
“Nah,” Jax says. “She doesn’t want some douche who only screws her missionary and can’t work his tongue on her.”
I huff out a laugh. “Her parents hate me.”
“Sounds like she hates her parents.” He locks his fingers together over his stomach. “Keep coming up with excu
ses. We both know you’re more the settling down type than you want to admit.”
Have I ever thought about marriage? Yeah. But did I ever think I could go through with it? I’m not sure.
“I haven’t seen any other girls hanging around you,” he adds.
“Are you trying to diss my game?”
He laughs. “No, I’m saying you’re not interested in anyone but her.”
He’s got a point. Somehow when Jax moved in, my fear of losing her overruled my fear of ruining our friendship. “If you hadn’t come back, I’m not sure I would’ve ever acted on my feelings.”
A smirk crosses his lips.
Son of a bitch.
“You did it on purpose?” I ask. “You purposely asked her out just to get me to act on my feelings?”
He holds up his hands. “Truth?”
“Yeah.”
“I liked her when I first moved in, but I saw how protective you were of her. You’ve always been transparent,” he says, his smirk grows wider. “I thought I’d just give you an extra push if you were toeing the line. I didn’t think you’d need a bulldozer.”
“So much could go wrong.”
“So much could go right,” he counters.
I nod. He’s right.
“You can sit here and be a pussy, all scared in your boots and worried about what-ifs, or you can go over there and own your feelings for her.” I stare at him, and he sighs. “What are you worried about?”
What am I not worried about?
“Our friendship. Hers and mine. Other than Naomi, I’ve never had anything serious. What if I don’t like it? What if I feel suffocated and screw it all up? It’s not just our friendship at stake. It’s all our friends. We’re in an interconnected cobweb and if Rian cuts one strand, it rocks the entire group.”
He nods. “You guys do have a little family here, don’t you?” He nods toward the door. “Even that spark plug out there.”
There’s longing in his tone. I first heard it in ninth grade when Winnie would make me come home for dinner at six. Then he had to do the same once he moved in with Winnie. Maybe that’s the one thing Jax hasn’t gotten since he left—a sense of home, family. Which is why he thinks it’s okay to throw yourself to the wild and deal with consequences later. I can’t do that with Rian.
