Page 14 of Love Medley (Med Wreck Romance #1)

My mother sounds resigned. “I know it’s not rational, but he means well. But you rattle him because you’ve always walked your own path, and he’s never known what to do about that. And honestly? You probably remind him of himself.”

I shake my head, even though she can’t see me. “We’re nothing alike.”

A small chuckle. “Actually—you’re more alike than you think. He used to lead with his heart over his head. He’s just… out of touch with the man that he once was.”

I’m reeling—the fact my mother thinks I’m anything like my father? It’s ludicrous. All of this is too much to comprehend.

Overwhelmed, I blurt out, “I tried for a really long time to make him proud, but eventually, I realized I’m just not the same as Sterling and Wyatt. It just made more sense to stop trying.”

I swipe at my eyes, furious that my father can still evoke such deep emotions in me.

“For your father, I believe a lot of this stems from wanting control. It’s not an excuse, but maybe knowing his history can put his actions more into perspective.”

“But what about you? If he’s trying to control us, he’s probably doing it even more to you.”

My mother gives a little huff of laughter. “You were always the most perceptive one,” she says. “But never mind that. It’s too late to do anything about it.”

“It’s never too late.” Like she said, my heart is leading—always. And I only want to protect her.

“That’s kind of you, but there’s no need to worry about me. I’m just simply pleased to know that you’re doing well on your own.”

“Okay, but if you change your mind, let me know. I’d help you.”

“I know you would.” My mother’s voice softens in a way I’m unused to.

“Oh, before I forget,” I say, clearing the emotion that has clogged my throat. “I can send back the money that should have gone towards my med school tuition.”

“Keep it,” my mother says. “Your father shouldn’t have cut you off anyway.”

After hesitating a moment, I decide to just drop the subject. If my mom says to hold onto the money, I’ll take her at her word. But I refuse to spend it on myself; the money is tainted for me. I’ll just let it sit in the bank until I figure out where to donate it.

“I love you, Mom.”

I don’t remember the last time I called her “Mom” or told her I loved her. It’s probably been… years.

A long pause, and then, “I love you too, Jacob.”

After we hang up, I wonder if I should have tried harder over the years to connect with my mom. She was there for me, in her own way .

Which reminds me of what Sam said about my family. She could have been more understanding, but maybe she wasn’t completely wrong either. At least not where my mom is concerned.

My dad is a completely different story. I don’t think he’s capable of “real connection” unless it happens on his terms—because despite what Sam says, relationships are a two-way street.

I can’t force the man to accept me for who I am. Maybe it’s his past self that he’s unable to accept. Still, the end result is the same.

But maybe my relationship with my mom is salvageable.

The next day, I’m off of work, so I attempt to fill the hours with tasks that I’ve been slacking on. After putting away my groceries and grabbing a quick dinner in my apartment, l decide to head to Tunes and Tonic—TNT as old-timers affectionately call it.

TNT is a place I’ve always felt safe—a spot where people like and respect me and the shadows of my past don’t haunt me. After that conversation with my mom, it would be nice to feel more settled.

Maybe I can chat with my friend Luke Barrett if he’s there. He might even have some tips about this fake dating situation I’ve gotten myself into—he certainly has more experience than I do in the dating department.

Luke and I became friends at Blackwell University after living in the same freshman dorm.

While I grew up in Blackwell, Luke is a transplant from Connecticut.

During college, Luke would frequently stop by TNT to see me play and bring his date of the week with him.

After graduating, he joined the staff at TNT as a barback and transitioned quickly into the role of a part-time bartender.

Flash forward to now: Luke’s here even more than I am—he just quit his job as a financial analyst a few months ago and is working full-time as the TNT bar manager and attending Blackwell Business School at night.

He’s a busy man.

When I arrive at TNT, I’m greeted by Eddie Hawkins, the bouncer.

He was a really amazing football player in his day, and I’m pretty sure he would have been one of the greats if not for a devastating quadriceps injury that ended his career early.

But he’s the happiest guy you’ll ever meet, and it always lifts my spirits to see him when I come in for my shifts.

“Hey, man!” Eddie crows as he gives me our standard complicated handshake that’s filled with slaps and fist bumps. “It’s been a while!”

“I’ve been busy at my new job in the ER,” I say, grinning. The relief from seeing a friendly face is more balm to my soul than I’d like to admit. I didn’t realize how tense I was until I opened the door to TNT. “But now things are finally settling down.”

“That’s awesome, man.” Eddie wipes at the sweat already dotting his dark brow with a white handkerchief. “It hasn’t been the same without you here.”

“I’ve missed you guys. I’m not officially here tonight, but I’m back next week.” I have my pick of Friday and Saturday night shifts, which are by far the most lucrative. Plus, I admit that performing for a screaming crowd is an endorphin rush .

“Well, it'll be great to have you back.”

“Have you seen Luke?” I ask.

“Yup, he’s stocking the bar.” Eddie waves me through.

As I walk towards the bar, I pass by the small wooden stage up front, which is really just a step-up platform, not a true stage.

On the platform are two grand pianos, old Yamahas that have seen better days, scratches and dings clearly visible on their black surfaces.

At least they’re tuned once in a while; it can be really frustrating to play an out-of-tune piano.

Still—the sight of them fills me with affection.

The wooden front bar stretches across the entire left side of TNT. Only Luke’s back is visible, the sounds of clinking bottles echoing underneath the bar. He’s probably stocking the bar well.

Down at the far right of the bar top, Priya, one of the newer barbacks, is replenishing the garnishes. She lifts her hand in a wave, and I give her an upwards nod in greeting.

“Yo, Luke,” I call out, and he straightens up with a smile, wearing his usual backwards Blackwell cap.

“Jake!” Luke grins. “Hey, man! Haven’t seen you in a hot minute.”

“Yeah,” I say, taking a seat at the bar. On really packed nights, staff remove these stools so more people can mingle and order drinks. “It’s been kind of crazy. Wait, why are you even out here? Aren’t you supposed to be in the back doing bar manager type of shit? ”

Luke rolls his eyes. “Sebastian sprained his ankle yesterday trying to do some ollies on a halfpipe. So guess who drew the short end of the straw.”

“What the fuck? Was he trying to impress a girl? I didn’t even know he was a skateboarder.” Something unclenches in me at the easy way we slip into our usual rhythm of ribbing each other.

Luke shrugs, flinging a towel over his shoulder. “Well, apparently he’s not.”

I snicker. Luke giving Sebastian some major shade cracks me up. Sebastian is the youngest bartender on the payroll at TNT, and he still hasn’t grown out of his dumbass phase.

“How’s the new job treatin’ ya?”

I fiddle with a cocktail napkin. “It’s not bad. Shift-work is my style.”

“Sounds kind of like here.” Luke wipes his hands on his apron.

“Yeah, exactly.” In fact, I’ve always loved the flexibility that comes with shift work. It lets me be a nurse and moonlight at TNT. And while I enjoy the lightning pace of the ER, here I can truly relax and be myself.

My leg starts jiggling up and down in a frenzied manner. I’m not sure why the reminder of my other vocation is hiking up my blood pressure.

Luke clocks my leg and raises his eyebrow. “Want something to drink? Looks like you might need one.”

I immediately force my leg to stop moving. “Nah. I just wanted to stop by to say hi. ”

Luke takes out a rag and starts wiping down the surface of the bar, which will probably be sticky with different liquids at the end of the night, although Wednesdays are pretty slow. “Uh huh. Whatever you say.”

I sigh. Luke clearly doesn’t believe me. “Okay, you got me,” I admit. “Can I pick your brain on something?”

Setting down his rag, Luke folds his arms and shoots me a shit-eating grin. “As I live and breathe! Is Jake Whitlock actually asking me for advice?”

Luke knows me too well—I feel like a bug under a microscope. Sure enough, he reads all my thoughts on my face.

“Don’t clam up now,” Luke smirks. “Tell me everything.”

I scowl at him. “Asshole. You are enjoying this way too much.”

“Yes, I am.” Luke’s smile only grows bigger. “And that doesn’t change the fact that you’re gonna talk anyway.”

Well, fuck.

“During one of my shifts, I met this woman.” The term “this woman” doesn’t even start to describe Lucy. I’m also already regretting that I brought her up.

Luke crows. “Good for you. It’s time to get back into the dating scene.”

“Hold on,” I protest. “That’s not where I’m going with this.”

“Oookay. Go on.”

Before I lose my nerve, I quickly recount the situation between Lucy, her asshole ex, and me. “And now, I’m going on a fake date with her to some fancy dinner. ”

Luke whistles. “Well, you get props for surprising me, because that was not what I was expecting to hear.”

“Great. Just great.” If Luke, a bona fide player who has navigated more than his fair share of sticky situations with women, is shocked, that’s a bad sign. “I was hoping to get some tips on how to fake date someone.”

Resting his back against the back bar, Luke fixes me with a probing stare, blatantly ignoring my request. “You like this Lucy chick.”

This is definitely not a question, but a statement. Am I that obvious? “I’m just trying to help her get that Weston fucker off her back.”

“You sure about that?” Luke looks way too amused by this conversation.

Of course I’m interested, who wouldn’t be? But it doesn’t matter whether I am or not—she’s the kind of woman someone like me sings power ballads about, not someone I actually get to date. “Lucy’s super sweet, and this is no big deal. I’m happy to lend her a hand.”

“That was a world-class deflection.” Luke’s definitely giving me shit now and not allowing me to change the subject.

“Look. Even if I were interested, Lucy is way out of my league.” The words slip out before I can stop them.

Luke stops cleaning and leans on his forearms to look me dead in the eyes. “Jake. I know that your family sucks ass, particularly your fucked-up dad, but just because they think you're a piece of shit doesn’t mean you are. ”

His words land heavily, and if I were standing, I’d likely stagger back. Luke knows about my crappy family—he’s been my friend long enough that he’s seen some interactions between my dad and me firsthand. Sometimes I forget Luke is more insightful than he seems.

“Tell me this. Why do you think you’re not good enough?”

God, I don’t want to get into this. “How am I not? She’s a med student, and I’m just a nurse. She’s probably going somewhere else for residency next year. I doubt she’s even looking for a relationship—she’s still trying to get rid of her previous one!”

Luke raises an eyebrow. “Um, you used to be a med student.”

“I’m not anymore.”

“You chose not to be.”

I don’t have a good comeback for that. “Okay, well, I’m a nurse now. I take orders from people like her.”

“Does she care about that?”

Immediately, I change tactics. “I wasn’t a good boyfriend to Sam. I’m a horrible communicator.”

Luke rolls his eyes. “No offense to you or Sam, but you guys weren’t that compatible. I’m actually kind of surprised you stayed together as long as you did.”

Now I’m curious about his point of view. “What do you mean?”

“Sam’s a nice girl. But you didn’t have anything in common.

She never came to TNT to see you perform, and she was always away at some family event.

You didn’t like the same movies, music, or food.

And she was always trying to convert you to her way of thinking instead of accepting you for who you are.

I mean, she’s a vegetarian that wanted you to quit eating meat!

I honestly think you were both so busy that it took your being in the same place to figure out that you weren’t right for each other.

It probably was less about communication and more about how much you wanted to communicate in the first place. ”

Wow. He certainly gave it to me straight. But I did ask for it. I sigh. “You might be right. I just don’t want to make the same mistakes.”

“I don’t think you will. Plus, now that I see you mooning over Lucy, I’m pretty sure you just weren’t that into Sam.”

My brow furrows. “Why would I have dated Sam for a year if I didn’t like her?” But even as I say this out loud, I’m pretty sure Luke’s right.

“You liked her as a person, but I always felt like both of you were just going through the motions. And maybe you hadn’t met someone like Lucy before.”

Well, that’s true.

Luke shakes his head. “So, you just need to man up and realize how awesome you are. Go after her. If she’s half as incredible as you seem to think, she’ll realize that too. What do you have to lose?”

“My pride?” I grumble.

“Okay, fine. You’re just a dumbass that will die friendless and alone.” Luke flicks a finger at my head in emphasis.

I slap away his hand. “Tough love, eh?” I say, but without bitterness.

“Always,” Luke says. Then he smirks again. “So. Does Lucy have any hot friends?”

I stand up. “Hands off, Luke. Do not screw around with any of Lucy’s friends. If you do, I swear I’ll kick your ass!”

Luke chuckles and puts his hands up in surrender. “I couldn’t help myself. You are just so easy to jerk around.”

I sigh. “You suck.”

“That’s why you love me, bro.”