Page 10

Chapter 10

Mikey

I felt like shit after Jessie left. I was no better than my dad. Why couldn’t I respect that she was in a relationship? Why was I so insistent that she needed to be with me, when I knew deep down she was way out of my league?

Jessie is a relationship girl. I’m a fuckaround boy. Those two don’t mix.

And I’d caused her to fight with Cole. All of his arguments weren’t valid. I heard the whole thing. That dude is lucky she puts up with him at all. Still, it was fundamentally my fault. I’d never heard them fight before I got involved. I heard him pick on her. I heard her deal with it and try to talk him out of it. And I heard their sad, pathetic sex where only one of them was getting anything out of it.

I didn’t want to be a homewrecker. And there I was, wrecking homes.

I was hopeless.

Back at the party, I saw other women seemingly attending alone, but I didn’t have the heart to strike up a conversation. I tried scrolling my DMs, willing myself to find someone good enough for that night. It was useless. I wanted to connect with someone like I connected with Jessie, even if our connection was fiery and tenuous. I liked that fire. It made me feel alive, getting burned by her. She was different than the women who found me through hockey, though in fairness, I never really gave them the chance to show much personality. I could have just been blowing through them without getting to know them.

But I knew I liked Jessie.

I left the party an hour or so after she did, telling Guy my stomach was upset. He knew how sensitive my system was. I wasn’t fully lying. It just wasn’t upset from food.

And still, I stopped for a six-pack of Bud Light Lime on my way home. Just in case.

When I got home, the fighting was well underway with Jessie and Cole.

He blamed her for falling asleep. For even talking to me. For leaving after some fight they’d had before I saw her. And then she dealt the big blow.

“You haven’t gotten me off in years.”

I heard it loud and clear in my kitchen. The silence that followed was so long that I wondered if I’d dreamed it. Then the rage came.

“What do you want me to say to that, Jessie? You’ve been lying to me all this time? How long?”

I was torn. Should I leave? Stay and keep being nosy? I was rooted to the spot. If they heard me pour a glass of water or shut my refrigerator door, they’d know I could hear them. Jessie probably thought I still was at the party. I couldn’t make out what she said back to him.

Then the yelling started. “We moved here for you, Jessalyn!”

“Oh, don’t kid yourself. It was for you. Stop gaslighting me! You were ready to leave me in New York.”

He yelled. And yelled. I heard her quiet, “I’m going to leave,” and his loud, “If you leave, don’t bother coming back.”

Then their front door slammed, creating a suction breeze in my apartment. Then the elevator dinged. I had a feeling where she was going. It was chilly out that night. I waited a few minutes, then grabbed the six-pack, a sweatshirt, and a blanket, and went to the roof.

I heard her before I saw her. “I don’t know, Mom. I think I just need to come home. Yeah, to West Virginia. I can’t afford New York.”

Sniffles, and sobs. “No, I only have my purse. I’ll get clothes when I get home. I don’t have my laptop. Can you book me a flight?”

I rounded the corner from the elevator bank and saw her, face puffy with tears, sitting in a pool chair on the phone. Her nice party makeup was smeared, her sweatshirt pulled down over her bare legs. “I need to go, Mom. Can you send me the flight options? Appreciate it. Love you, too.”

She hung up and leaned her head into her hands. I approached her, knocking the cool beer bottle into the backs of her hands. She gave a thick laugh, taking it from me. She popped it open with her sweatshirt sleeve.

“Thanks,” she said. “I thought you hated these.”

“Felt like you needed one,” I said, trying to sound sympathetic. I spread the blanket over her lap. I opened a bottle and sat in the chair next to her, planting my elbows on my knees. “You okay?”

She took a long drag on the beer and stared at the pool. “I don’t know.”

We sat in silence for a while. I was good at this. I was good at being the breakup friend. I’d done it before for Kitty and was pretty proud of my performance. Sometimes, you’ve just gotta sit in the misery.

“I guess you heard,” she said.

“I heard,” I confirmed. “Are you going home?”

Jessie’s breath shuddered. “I think so. I don’t even know what I’m doing out here.”

I wanted to reach out and touch her, but I was part of the problem. I needed to give her space. “You’re working toward your dream, right?”

She nodded.

“Do you want to do this or go back to New York and do fashion?” I prayed the answer was the former. The thought of Jessie moving away was disturbingly upsetting. I shouldn’t be that upset at the thought of her leaving.

“This.” A sob broke loose.

“Don’t go then,” I said.

“I don’t have anywhere to go,” she said. “He threw me out.”

“You pay rent, Jessalyn. He can’t just throw you out,” I started.

Jess blew out a breath. “I’m not going back down there tonight.”

There was no way I was letting Jessie sleep on the roof with everything she was going through. “You can stay with me. As long as you need.”

“What?” She looked at me like I had three heads. “Mikey.”

“I’m not even home a lot of the time. I’ve got an extra bedroom. There’s no bed in it, but I can take care of that. I need to get one for guests anyway.”

“Mikey, no. It’s too much. I just need to rethink everything. I just need somewhere for tonight.”

“You probably can’t quit the show mid-season, can you? I know Kitty talks about stuff like that.”

She raised her eyebrows and rubbed her forehead. “Yeah, you’re right about that.”

“And look, I know I was, uh, a little... aggressive this morning.”

Jessie was clearly not trying to react, but that was a reaction in itself. She rubbed her lips together and stared at the cement between us.

“I promise, this is purely from a friend perspective, okay? I’ll leave you alone. I just don’t think you should go home without seeing where your job is going.”

She nodded and sniffed, considering my offer in silence. “When did you buy Bud Light Limes?”

“I had some left over from that party,” I lied.

Her eyes flicked to the full six-pack minus our two bottles, but she didn’t say anything. She shivered.

“Stay with me tonight, Jessie. It’s cold up here.”

She scowled. “I need to think.”

I sighed. “Think all you want, but sleep at my place, okay? Don’t sleep up here.”

“I’ll come down. I just need some time to think.”

“Arms up,” I said.

Her brow furrowed until she saw me holding out the sweatshirt for her to slide into.

“I’m right downstairs. My door’s open and you have my number. Don’t stay up too late.”

She gave a sad laugh. “Okay, Daddy.”

I laughed, my stomach tingling again. “You’re a real brat, you know that?”

She caught my hand before I could walk away, peering up at me with the tiny dimple next to her lips showing. “Thanks, Ben.”

I squeezed her hand, noting how nice it felt in mine. I didn’t do a lot of hand-holding on hookups. Something about it was so simple and sweet. Intimate. Trusting. A gesture you make with your body when you’re really connecting your soul to someone else’s.

And yet, I couldn’t leave well enough alone.

“Anytime, Sweet Cheeks.”