I can’t stand to be in the same room with him. He purposely made me feel something for him before he told me a piece of information that would have probably been a deal breaker. I can’t believe the gall of this man. Infuriating is too kind a word for what he is.
I walk back to my office, sit on the edge of the desk and try to compose myself before I say another word to him. I need to think through this one with a clear head, and right now, I’m liable to say something I can’t ever take back. A daughter. Shit. Everyone has a past; I’m a prime example. I’ve screwed more men than I’d like to admit, but a fucking child? I sure as hell don’t have one of those.
We all have a past, are you going to let it hold you back? He fucking warned me and I was too damn stupid to see it. Mother fuck my life.
Jacoby knocks on the door jamb, breaking my attention by the oh so fascinating crumb on the carpeting. Waiting until I acknowledge him, he stands outside the door. Smart boy, not entering my space until he’s given permission.
“You can come in, but you might want to keep your distance. I’m suddenly feeling very hostile.”
“Can we keep talking?” he pleads. I should say no, but I really do want to hear why he thinks what he’s done to me is acceptable behavior.
“Jacoby,” I say, turning to face him, “I’m not sure how much I have in me. This is too fresh. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner. This is one of those conversations people should have on their first date, shit, maybe even the fifth date. You don’t wait until you’ve been fucking someone for six months and then just spring on them, ‘Hey, by the way, I’m a father.’ Makes sense, right?” I’m trying to keep my temper in check, but it’s getting harder to remain calm.
“Believe me, Kylee. I never meant to keep anything from you.”
“No, that’s exactly what you intended to do. You purposely kept this little tidbit to yourself. I just want to know why.”
“I dated another woman after Dawn and I broke up. I immediately told her about Shelby, even introduced the two. After a few months of dating, she broke up with me out of the blue. I can only assume it’s because of my daughter. Not only did she hurt me, she hurt my daughter.” Jacoby takes a breath, a pained look on his face, like he’s hurting to tell me the rest. “I take being a father very seriously. Shelby might live four hours away, but she comes to live with me over the summer and during long school breaks. I promised myself that I wouldn’t let her get hurt again by getting attached to one of daddy’s girlfriends. I needed to make sure you were in this for the long haul if I told you. Based on your reaction, I can safely assume you’re not.”
My heart hurts for him, it really does, but at the same time, this man willfully withheld life changing information from me all because of another woman’s actions.
“This is a little much for me right now. I’m going to need to think on what you’ve just told me. I’m not mad you have a daughter, not in the least, but I should have been given the right to be upset and walk away from a situation I might not have wanted before I started to get more serious with you. You didn’t consider my feelings whatsoever. I understand why you did what you did, but the emotional side of me can’t help but feel blindsided and blackmailed into trying to accept all of this.”
“Kylee, it wasn’t meant to hurt you, but to protect Shelby. She’s my world and I couldn’t let her get hurt if I didn’t know you were in this all the way. These last few days, you’ve shown me the other side of you. I know I’m in your heart, and I wanted to tell you before I removed that last brick.” Jacoby puts his hands on my shoulders, anchoring me to the ground like he knows I’m going to run. I look up into his eyes and the pleading behind them is almost enough to bring me to my knees. “You feel it, don’t you? You know you’re mine even if there’s no title on us, right?”
Bringing my hands up to his forearms, I rest my face on his knuckles, slightly nuzzling. “I’m going to need some time, Jacoby. I can’t say yes or no, but I need to think. You should go now.” I take a step back and his arms limply fall to the side of his body.
Jacoby walks back in the living room, answering his phone that’s been ringing the entire time we’ve been talking.
“Jacoby Roberts,” he barks into the receiver. I feel bad he’s so upset, but what does he expect of me?
“No, I’ve got it. Give me thirty and I’ll be in. Have him conferenced in and ready to go when I get there.” Jacoby hits the end button and tosses his phone on the cushion next to him. He’s stressed, I can tell just by his body language; his back slumped forward, hands in his hair and elbows resting on his knees, supporting his upper body weight.
“Is everything okay?” I ask sincerely.
“Yeah, everything’s fine. I have to go to the office for a while. It shouldn’t take too long. Want to meet me at my house in a few hours and we can resume this conversation?”
“Sure, I’m going to write for a little bit. Text me when you’re done and I’ll head over,” I lie. I walk over to where he’s sitting, squeeze my hand around his shoulder and head back into my office.
“Well, I’m gonna get outta here. You do something productive today. Don’t forget you’re amazing and can do anything you set your mind to,” Jacoby hollers from the front door, reassuring me.
I turn the speakers up on my computer and start typing, letting the words flow out of me and leaving Jacoby in the back of my mind. It’s crazy what writing can do. Personal problems no longer matter, the only things that do are the characters you’re developing.
My heroine in the story is a strong, capable female—very sure of herself, honest to a fault and refuses relationships.
My hero? He’s the mirror of excellence--sexy as sin, more money than he knows what to do with, loyal and a complete dom in the bedroom; his inside as perfect as his outward appearance.
Well, shit.
I disregard the similarities between the characters and my real life, letting the story flow, when the sudden vibration of my phone on the desk scares the shit out of me.
I look at the phone, knowing all too well exactly who it is before seeing the sender of the text.
Jacoby – OMW home
Me – I’m in the middle of something. I’ll call u later.
Jacoby – okay …..
CHAPTER SIX
Kylee
I don’t respond. I know that he’s probably feeling let down, expecting me to meet him at his house, but I really need to put some distance between us. He’s given me an ass load of information to digest and I’m not too sure exactly how to process it just yet. I know I’m not going to get any more writing done, my brain is out of sorts and I could use some one on one time with my girl, anyway.
Me – I’m coming over. Sky home?
Mira – Nope. At the clubhouse. Come on over.
I don’t bother changing out of my yoga pants, but I do trade my tee shirt for a fitted tank and pull a Buck the Fuckeyes hoodie over my head. Throwing on my sneakers, I’m out the door and heading down the highway to Mira and Skylar’s loft.
Mira meets me in the parking lot, already carrying two beers in her hand. She knows me so well, this girl, and I love her hard for it.
“Okay, spill it.” She wastes no time getting to the point.
“Can’t a girl just want to spend time with her favorite person in the world?” I make a kissy face and take the beer from her hand, drawing a long swig from the neck.
“No. No, she can’t. Really, tell me what’s going on.” Ahh, this is what happens when you become best friends with someone. She’s able to see right through to my soul and I hate it.
“Just stuff with Jacoby.”
“Do you hate your office? He called me and begged me for my key. He sounded so excited about his plans that as soon as I came home from Christmas with Sky, I went right over and helped him. If you hate it, I’ll help you change it back.” When Mira panics, she talks a million miles a minute. It used to give me whiplash, but after fifteen years of friendship, I unde
rstand her.
“Mi, I absolutely love my office. It’s the most perfect thing in the whole world. It’s just that I’m getting a little too close. You know I don’t do close,” I tell her as we take the elevator up to the eighth floor.
I walk into the loft, taking off my hoodie and tossing it on the dining room table on top of my purse. Mira grabs two more beers and joins me in the living room. Some people might think it’s immature, but Mira and I have an understanding. We solve our problems with alcohol. Usually tequila, but beer will do for tonight.
“Okay, so Jacoby is getting close and you’re freaking out? Because you like him so much? Because you don’t want to like him? Because you think he’s like your …”
“Stop. I didn’t say he was like him. I do like him, a lot, but I’ve said it over and over again that I don’t want to be anything more than what we are. He’s pushing for more, trying to weasel his way in, and I don’t like it one bit. It’s like he’s trying to go around everything I say and do what he wants.” I get the control that Jacoby’s used to having in his business world, but I will not be controlled, whatsoever.
I am a woman, not a piece of property. Mira loves her property cut that Skylar gave to her a few months ago, and for her that’s fine. I’m not that kind of girl. I will not be owned. I’m going to be me and do what I want, no matter the circumstance.
“Oh, and the fact that I’ve known him for six months and just find out tonight he has a six-year-old daughter didn’t exactly put my mind at ease.”
“You’re shitting me. A kid? Since when?” Mira obviously didn’t get the daddy vibe from him either. I proceed to tell her about Jacoby’s kid, in as much detail as he’d given me.
“I just need time away from him. He’s moving too far, too fast. Do you understand?”
“I’d like to say that I do, but I really don’t. Not everyone finds that person that makes all their senses fire at one time. I see the way you guys look at each other. There’s no denying that you’re in love, you’re just too stubborn to accept it. You’re going to regret it one day if you don’t act on it, Ky. You guys have been spending more time together lately. Don’t let him being a dad scare you away.” Why does everyone think I’m scared of him being a father?
“It’s not that he has a child, Mira. It’s the fact that he didn’t tell me until today.”
“I will stand by you because I’m your best friend, but I won’t do it without telling you what a dumbass you’re being.”
“Thanks,” I say sarcastically. I’m not even sure why I try with her sometimes. She’s always been a hopeless romantic, always seeing the good in people and dreaming of a happily ever after.
I, on the other hand, know better. There’s no such thing as living the dream. The only thing we can do is live in the right now and take every moment for what it is—the right now, not forever. I really hope that Mira finds everything she’s looking for, but it’s highly unlikely that she will. I don’t dare tell her this though, because all she’ll do is argue with me.
“Movie?” Mira asks.
“Yup. Pitch Perfect and dance party, please.” Who watches a movie and reenacts the last scene just because it’s the best ending to any movie ever? Us, that’s who. We might look like fools, but who cares. The tears from laughing so hard our stomachs hurt make up for any frustration I’m feeling with Jacoby and I focus on the times that I’ll always remember with my best friend.
Mira and I are just finishing our dance party and I’m doubled over in laughter as Mira’s phone starts singing from the kitchen. Mira walks to her purse on the counter, clenching her belly, still laughing uncontrollably.
“Hey, babe,” she says sweetly into the receiver, still giggling and wiping the tears from her cheeks.
“Nothing, just hangin’ out with Ky. She’s having boy trouble.” Boy trouble? Really? This is the reason that I don’t do relationships, because when friends say boy trouble, it makes me want to puke.
“I can ask. We’re not really dressed for that.” I look down at myself and inwardly cringe. Of course I would come to Mira’s and we would leave to socialize with other adults and I look like a hot mess.
“Ky, do you want to go to the clubhouse for a few? Sky said there aren’t a lot of people there.”
“As long as you go looking like that, I’m in.” Yeah, she looks just as terrible as me. Granted, her boyfriend is there and he’s seen her look worse probably, but fuck it; I have nobody to impress. My only concern is embarrassing Skylar with his friends.
“Yeah, babe. We’ll be there in twenty. Have our drinks ready.” Mira drops her phone back in her bag and starts to put on a pair of sneakers.
I follow suit. I take our beer bottles to the kitchen, wondering if we’re sober enough to drive. Then I realize that we’re not drunk, maybe a slight buzz, but two beers apiece is nowhere near enough to get me to the point of inebriation.
Throwing on my hoodie, grabbing my purse and keys and Mira making sure the door is locked, we’re on our way. It’s only a ten minute drive to the clubhouse, but we must make sure that the radio is blaring so we can sing at the top of our lungs.
We arrive while in the middle of a Dirty Dancing soundtrack sing off, complete with as many dance moves as possible from the seat of the car. There’s an extremely tall, good looking guy standing at the gate. Sky must have told him we were coming down since we don’t have to tell him who we are before he opens the gate wide enough for us to drive through, closing it as soon as we’re safely inside the compound.
We walk through the doors and Skylar was right; there aren’t a lot of people here, maybe fifteen, and all of them seem to be wearing Hooliganz cuts. As much as I love coming down on an open night, sometimes it’s just nice to sit with these guys.
I take off my hoodie, sling it over the back of a bar stool and take a sip of the vodka concoction that Skylar has ready for us. Mira joins me at the bar, but she’s not sitting and drinking; she’s standing in between Skylar’s legs and hugging him for dear life.
“You guys really should learn about this thing they call personal space. It’s a very interesting concept. The first rule to personal space is to not constantly invade another’s.” I don’t mean to sound bitter, but let’s face it, these two are always wrapped up in each other. I’m not sure where Mira ends and Skylar begins.
“What’s up her ass?” Skylar asks Mira, completely ignoring me.
“I’m right here, Axe. Nothing’s up my ass, that’s the fucking problem.” The guy behind the bar spits out his drink and starts chuckling. Skylar shakes his head, nestling further into Mira’s neck and Mira gives me the signature “you’re gonna get yourself in trouble” look.
“What?” I casually say, taking another sip of my drink. Looking around the bar, I see there are a few guys I’ve never met. It’s time for introductions; my style.
The DJ is set up in his usual spot and is playing something with a little too much twang for my pleasure. Setting my drink down, I saunter over to his booth, making sure to push my breasts out and put enough swing in my hips to make a blind man drool.
“What do you have that I can dance to?” I twirl my hair around my finger, acting as nauseating as possible. I don’t understand why guys fall for this routine time and time again, it’s pathetic and disgusting. I should be put down just for doing it, but if it works, it works, right?
“What ‘cha in the mood for, sweetheart?” Barf. Sweetheart? Can’t he come up with something better? At least Jacoby calls me Red. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know that one should give a proper nickname that isn’t given to each and every woman he meets.
Enough of Jacoby, bitch. Do not think about him right now. It’s time to let loose.
Pushing aside the bile rising from my stomach, I walk behind the speakers to scan the list of songs open on his computer. Pointing at one that’s sure to change the atmosphere from a sad country bar into a place with real live people, I make my way back to the bar. Yes. Yes, I do sway my h
ips more than necessary, only because I can, I guess.
The song starts slow over the sound system and quickly picks up. I take the final swig of my drink and head to the middle of the bar that doubles as a dance floor. Mira’s looking at me like I’ve lost my mind, but when a girl wants to wop, a girl has to wop.
I may have learned this dance while watching YouTube the other day, when I was supposed to be writing. I’m slowly beginning to learn that being a writer means sixty percent involves writing and the other forty percent involves dicking around on websites that are completely counterproductive.
I’m making it rain when I feel a pair of strong hands wrap around my hips and someone grinds into my ass. I smile slyly, knowing it wouldn’t take long before someone got up on this. I don’t bother turning around because at this point, it doesn’t matter who’s behind me as long as they’re in for a good time.
Operation Get Jacoby Out of My Head is in full effect.
I bend forward, drop down to the floor and slowly pull myself up, rubbing my ass across his legs and back to his crotch like a dog in heat. I put my hand on top of his when he pulls back. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mira laughing so hard she spits her drink out. I cock my head, not understanding what’s so funny. That is, until I turn around.
“Dammit, Skylar. What the fuck?” This fucker’s shoulders are bouncing up and down with silent laughter.
“It was right there. I had to. God, Kylee, you’re too easy.” Well, what the fuck does he mean by easy? It better not be what I think it means.
I hit him in the chest hard enough to make the clown behind the bar wince. Skylar places his hand over the spot I just wacked and walks backward toward Mira, shaking his head but still laughing. These two kill me.
Realizing there’s not much I can do to Skylar right now, I walk back and order another drink from the bartender. He’s not a bad looking guy; probably six feet, good build from what I can tell, short and well kept blond hair and deep midnight blue eyes.
Facade: Facade Page 5
