As I stand, my phone buzzes. I check it, finding that Shasta isn’t picking up Birdy until tomorrow afternoon because of an unexpected layover. I’m positive it’s not of the flight kind. She’s only asked about Birdy once since she’s been in California. Nice. I could’ve traded the kid for magic beans.
I respond to Shasta, saying I have plans tomorrow, so she needs to be here. Though, I’ve gotten a little attached to the rug rat. But taking care of her was better with Simone, as fucked up as that is.
I grab my wrinkled brown paper bag containing my peanut butter and jelly sandwich, my go-to since grade school—why fix it if it’s not broken? Passing the reception desk, I notice Rhonda isn’t there. Great. It’s not enough that I’ll be with her a couple hours tomorrow, but now I’m having lunch with her. She’ll be the one who takes Saturday way more seriously than I ever will.
Walking through the downstairs hallway past the lobby, Connie from the accounting firm on the first floor waves at me, so I wave back. I struck up a conversation with her in the lunch line once, and now we’re hall buds. Whatever that is.
I go through the cafeteria dining room, observing as I walk. Nobody from my office is around, so at least I don’t have to watch what I do for Hadley’s sake. When I’m closer to the glass door leading outside, I notice Hadley at a table in the shade. Alone.
My heart punches my chest. We haven’t really been alone since Brandon’s barn burner. There’s been my office a couple times but only for a few minutes.
Pushing open the door, the sun hits my face, but a light breeze erases the heat. For fall, it feels like a mid-summer day. As I walk over to her table, Hadley lights up as if she were in the sun and not shade. I set down my bag next to her, and she says, “I didn’t think you’d come.” Why does everyone think I won’t show up? Or maybe they think I don’t ejaculate. How wrong they are. I swim in my cum more than my own sperm. Either way, people doubt me like hell. More so than I even doubt myself.
“I wasn’t sure if I should,” I admit. Hadley stares at me, so I nod to the empty seats with a smirk. “I thought you’d have an entourage.”
She turns her body toward me, crossing her legs. “No. I wanted to have lunch with just you.” Fuck. Why? This can’t be good.
“Uh, okay.” Don’t smell her. Don’t touch her.
Not hungry, I pull out my sandwich, Dew, and Baby Ruth, but leave it all as a lonely display in front of me. I rest my arms on the table, interlocking my fingers, so I don’t do anything stupid. With her facing my side, Hadley asks, “You’re not eating?”
“I might.” I force myself to stare at the brick wall, so I don’t stare at her. So I don’t kiss her.
“You okay?” The way she asks is filled with concern. I hate it.
Going for a mutual hatred, I say, “I ran into Morgan at another gym.”
“Shit. What happened?”
“I had to hold back Simone so she wouldn’t rip her head off.”
Hadley’s gasp is small, but I still heard it. “Simone was with you?”
“She wants me to join with her. It’s too expensive for me, though. And since Morgan belongs to it, it’s definitely out.”
“Did Morgan say much?”
I shrug, staring at my limp sandwich. “She’s not pregnant. False alarm. She probably isn’t with Shane anymore either. Other than that, she didn’t have shit to say. She only wanted to provoke us into a lawsuit and criminal charges.”
“Wow. I can’t believe that.”
I laugh. “I can. Morgan’s an evil bitch.”
“I didn’t know. We were friends. I didn’t think she’d be like this and do the things she did to me.”
“Sometimes you do have to keep your friends closer than your enemies.”
“Yeah,” she mumbles as I concentrate on keeping my hands together for my sake. “Well, it’s interesting that you and Simone are now hanging out.”
“We’re not hanging out. Simone was helping me.” And now she’s not.
“When does Shasta get back?”
“Tomorrow.”
“What about your date Saturday with Rhonda? Is that still on?”
“I guess.” This fucking sucks. I don’t want to go out with Rhonda.
“I’m proud of you for taking a chance on her. I think you will have a good time. You may even become a couple.”
I make a face, looking at Hadley and squeezing my hands together. I want to put my hands on the sides of her head and kiss her hard. It’s a sharp urge. “It’s only a casual date. Jesus. I’m not running off to Vegas with her.”
Hadley smiles, but it’s quick, and then she sighs. “Rod... We... I want us...”
“Want us to what?” Hadley’s perfume finally attacks me, grabbing me by the nuts and twisting to find Tokyo.
I anxiously shift in my chair to curb my imminent hard-on while glancing at my watch. I already can’t take much more of this.
Hadley turns her head toward the people walking past us, swinging her ponytail. I want to run my fingers through her hair like Wilder gets to. That bastard doesn’t know how good he has it. When her hair swings back, I avert my gaze, but she had to have seen me staring. She asks, “How’s Birdy?”
“Okay.” I’m the disaster.
“Simone is a big help.” Hadley’s eyes fall to her uneaten yogurt, and she mindlessly spins the cup. I subtly watch her tits rising and falling with her breaths. I’ve never seen hers, but I wonder how they compare to Simone’s. Maybe Simone’s body isn’t all that stellar, and it’s just me being stupid and horny as hell.
“Yeah. She left already, claiming I can do this by myself.”
Hadley’s gaze flies to mine as she grins. “Oh. I can always help you. Please let me. Bethany can’t make it Saturday. Her son is sick.” Bad idea. And I have my moments where I want to tell her the truth about the night at the hotel.
“No. That’s okay. I think I’m getting the hang of it. It hasn’t been so bad.” It’s been hell.
She giggles and my heart stutters. “Look at you. A certified dad.”
I laugh, risking a glance her way. “Hardly.”
“You’re a good dad.”
“You don’t know that. Up until this point I haven’t even been in her life.”
“Rod, you’re trying. That’s what counts.” Hadley reaches over, grabbing my wrist through my pale blue dress shirt. If I feel her skin on mine, it’s over. Her fingers play over my black bracelets through my shirt as she watches them move. “I love how you still wear these.”
“I haven’t taken them off.”
She sighs, still rubbing her fingers over them. This isn’t fair. Hadley whispers, “How’d it go with Shasta after the party? Did you...? Did you sleep with her again?”
“No.”
I hear her sigh, and I drop my arm from the table, making Hadley’s hand fall. She again whispers, “I miss you, Greg.”
Swallowing, I reach for my Baby Ruth, twirling it between my fingers. “Hadley, I miss you too.”
“We can’t even stay apart.”
“That’s the problem.”
“Our friendship means so much to me. I just didn’t realize you...”
“I what? Lied?”
She nods. “I’m sorry I hurt you. You weren’t a substitute that night in the parking lot. I know what I wanted.”
My legs are jackhammers beneath the table. “None of this helps now.”
“I don’t want lies.”
I drop the candy bar and fully turn toward her before I stop myself. “Yeah, you do. You want to tell the truth, but you want me to lie because the truth is too hard for you to hear.”
“Greg, it’s because you want more from me than I can give you.”
Not intending to confirm the truth, I nod and even more forthcoming, I say, “I do.”
She takes a deep breath, maybe shocked hearing me say I want her. Again, she tries reasoning it like she did at Brandon’s. “But you helped... You don’t care I’m married?” I look into her eyes,
and she sees my answer. Breaking our gaze, she watches people on the sidewalk near us before she looks back to me. “You’d actually want to...?” She clears her throat and takes a quick drink of water. “You still want to sleep with me?”
“Yes.” I’d do it for her, but it’d be more for me.
Hadley sits back, gaping at me. “Greg.”
“I told you the truth. It’s not just about the sex. Well, not all about it. You said I’m yours, Hadley. Was that really the truth?”
She frowns as her gaze jerks away from mine. “I think of you as mine because you’re my best friend. Maybe I’ve gotten a little overprotective of you. I just don’t want Shasta hurting you.”
“She hasn’t. Only you have.”
Hadley sniffs but maintains her composure as she twists her ponytail. Unexpectedly, she reaches forward, putting her hand on my knee and since we’re practically face-to-face without a table between us, she has to see what it’s doing to my crotch.
Her fingers lightly dance on me, and pain shoots through my dick as it strains against my pants. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. You’re important to me.”
Inhaling as the pain gets worse, I put my hand on hers, and it’s lightning to my, well, rod, and it only throbs harder. I leave my hand on hers for longer than I should, but eventually say, “You’re important to me, too, but... You want to go back to what you thought our friendship was. I’m trying, but I told you it’s not easy.” I squeeze her hand, hurting more. “And this. This makes it hard for me.” I don’t have to elaborate because her eyes drop to my pants.
She immediately pulls her hand out from beneath mine, and she slightly smiles. “I’m sorry. I’m still adjusting to everything you told me. I used to be able to touch you, and you were okay with it.” I frown at her, and she hides her gasp behind the back of her hand. “Oh, my God. You weren’t okay?”
“No.”
“Shit. I’m... I feel horrible.” She sits straighter and nods. “You’re right. I guess I’m adjusting too. I just don’t know what to do to make it easier.” I do, but it’d involve her dumping that sports dud by text and then fucking me in the elevator.
Turning the tables on her, I pick up her ponytail, feeling her hair between my fingers even if it nails me between the legs. “I can’t tell you what to do. I only know that I’ll be whatever you want me to be. Wherever you want me.” Jesus Christ. I just spray-painted it all on the wall for her. I don’t even know if I actually could go through with it. Shit. Yeah, I could. Maybe. Fucking hell.
Surprisingly, Hadley bites her lip and nods as I drop my hand. “Okay.”
I nod with her. “Okay.” I don’t really know what either of us thinks is okay.
“Hadley, I...” I stop myself from telling her Finley might be mine. That’d unleash a shitload of problems, especially when I’m not 100 percent sure she is mine.
I check my watch as Hadley sits silent, probably bowled over by everything I said. As am I, having just propositioned my best friend, a married woman, to fuck me if she’s ever bored.
Shoving my lunch back into my bag, I stand. “I have a meeting with one of Amos’ clients in 10. You ready, Hadders?”
Hadley stiffly rises, somewhat off balance, so I clutch her arm to steady her, but she moves, keeping a small distance between us, as there always will be now. If that’s what she needs, then I’ll give it to her. Along with anything else she may need.
Saturday, just after lunch, a knock lands on my door. When I answer it, Shasta peers over my shoulder, asking, “Is she still here?”
“Birdy? No, she ran out for more beer.”
“Your piece of ass. Is she still here?”
“Shut up about Simone. Christ. Do you have to be like that?”
“Yeah.” She plows past me, searching the immediate area as her perfume assaults me. “Where’s Birdy?”
I keep the door open, so she doesn’t get comfortable. “Nap. Maybe you should’ve called first.”
“You said you have somewhere to be. Is it with the slut?”
“Stop calling her names.”
“I hit a nerve, Roddy?” Her bright red lips grin, and I shudder.
“She’s been helpful. Neither of us can fault her for that.”
“Yes, I can. So maybe if you can’t stop fucking Simone, then you won’t see your daughter.” Oh, no she didn’t.
“You’re really going there?”
“Now, you’re taking me seriously.”
“Just like the supposed sex tape?”
“Yep.”
“You can’t tell me who not to date and withhold Birdy because of it.” Shit. But I’m already in this deep, so I go with it.
“We don’t have any official child custody. So, you can go ahead and see the whore. That means you won’t see Birdy.”
“Then, I want a custody agreement.”
“You can’t afford it.”
“I can and I will. I’ll even throw in a lawsuit, suing you for defamation of character for the alleged video.”
She squints her eyes at me, undecided. “Get Birdy. I’m taking her home now.”
“No.”
“Then, I will. Is she in your room?” Shasta looks around and goes down the hall, opening the first door, which is my bedroom. Damn it.
“Let her sleep,” I angrily whisper.
She plucks Birdy from the crib. “Get her car seat.”
“No.” She glares at me as Birdy stirs in her arms. Sighing, I mutter, “Fine.” I don’t want Birdy upset. She already has had a rude awakening.
I put everything in Shasta’s car that she had brought, which was close to nothing. Without even giving me a chance to hold her before leaving, I push my way between the back door and the seat. Grabbing Birdy’s little hand, I whisper, “It was fun. We’ll do it again soon. I promise.”
Shasta loudly sighs, and I let her close the door. I say, “I think I got her to like baths.”
Rolling her eyes, Shasta gets into her car and quickly drives away. I’m used to women ditching me, but this one fucking hurts more than I thought it would. But I won’t let Shasta keep Birdy from me. No matter what it takes. I want to be the kind of father I have, even if Shasta is a mother from hell.
Sighing, I go back to my apartment to get ready for my nondate date with Rhonda, already wishing it were over with.
CHAPTER 17
“Fuck.” I lean against my truck in the office parking lot. Rhonda had left early Friday before I realized I don’t have her phone number, so I was unable to bail on her. Never said I was a prince.
Hobbling to her car in the parking lot, Gloria is the remnants of a bad dream that fucks with your mind. Her lurking at the office is odd for a Saturday. Not the waddling part. She has some hip malfunction she refuses to fix, on the grounds of cheap parts and quack doctors out to make a buck. Her words.
I look at the ground, wishing I had worn a ball cap, but the only one I own is my fucking Legal Eagles one, which would defeat the purpose of staying incognito.
“Is that you, Rodwell?” her barbed voice carries far and wide.
I sigh and looking up, I politely smile. “Hey, Gloria.”
She stops at her car, and the late afternoon sun bounces off her glasses, making her a demon. “Where’s your woman?”
“Uh, excuse me?” What the fuck? Even Gloria now?
“Whatshername!”
“Hadley?”
From my truck, I see her grouchy frown. “Not her! Blondie!” Jesus.
“I... Uh... Rhonda? No. I’m just—”
She swipes her hand at the air, holding onto her car door. Her blunt haircut is a carryover from the 1940s and is on the National Register of Historical Places. “The sassy one! Your date at Brandon’s! I stopped by for 10! You two were cozy!” I do not want to have this conversation with Gloria. Or any conversation for that matter.
“Simone?”
Gloria shrugs with her entire body. “If I knew her damn name I would’ve said it!”
“She’
s not my woman! And I wasn’t cozy! I couldn’t get rid of her!” I can’t believe I’m yelling that across a parking lot. And to Gloria Charleton no less.
Gloria laughs, and I’m stunned. In all the years I’ve worked with her, I’ve never seen that humanoid crack a smile. It’s like witnessing an alien abduction or playing cards with a ghost. No one would fucking believe me.
“Why not, kid? Something wrong with you?”
“She’s on our softball team! She’s only a friend!”
Her frown returns with a vengeance. “Get your head out of your ass, Rodwell!” And all is right with the world.
Gloria gets into her antique car, ending the strangest and most pointless conversation I’ve ever had.
Shortly after she leaves the lot, Rhonda arrives, behind the wheel of a white Ford something. I inhale a deep breath, wishing it were laced with weed.
She parks next to me and takes forever getting out of her damn car. So much that I could’ve worked a regular day and she still would be pissing around in there. Crossing my arms, I wait against my truck as the light wind ruffles my hair. I really need to wear hats.
Rhonda finally exits her car, seemingly flustered, wearing a red-and-white paisley sundress with a white cardigan—probably Old Navy—while her brown flats are definitely Payless. Walking over to me, she doesn’t speak. She just stops, staring at my truck. Do I have to wind her up or something?
I say, “Hey. You just missed Gloria. Sucks for you.”
Actually smiling, Rhonda says, “She was probably here to see Lou.”
“Who in the hell is Lou?”
This time she hesitates. I wait for her to continue and she finally says, “He’s the maintenance supervisor.”
“Say what?”
She nods. “They’re having a torrid affair.”
With the needless mental images, I’m the one now lost for words while Rhonda gawks at me. I clear my throat. “How do you know this?”
“I have my ways.”
“Trade secret, huh?”
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