Page 25

Chapter 25

Mikey

Jessie actually slept in. I woke up to her arm and leg thrown over me, her face tucked into my shoulder. Her breath was fucking awful but she was so cute cuddled up to me that I forgave it.

It had taken me a while to fall asleep. I was buzzed off the day: all of Jessie’s kisses, her trauma with the storms, and I couldn’t stop fixating on how mean Cole was to Jessie. My mind stewed the same few facts over and over: him calling her a whore, her not being allowed to eat tuna in his holy presence, him picking on her for wanting flavored coffee, him not wanting to marry her, and worst, him cheating on her. If she hadn’t stopped me, he was in to get knocked out by a Mikey knuckle sandwich. No one gets to treat my Jessie that way and get away with it. I plotted my revenge instead of counting sheep.

While I waved my mom and Aunt Lori off at 5:30 a.m. and put them in an Uber, I noticed Jessie’s car on the street, covered in bird shit. I mean like solid lines of bird shit all up and down her car. That just wouldn’t do.

Trying to move fast before she woke up, I went back upstairs and got her keys off the hook by the door. I took her car through the car wash and filled up her tank. I went to my favorite coffee shop and got us each a coffee and a breakfast sandwich. I stopped by the grocery store when it opened and found a cheesy card, plus some items I needed for my revenge plot.

I got back and stopped by our building’s office to get one more thing for Jessie, then headed up to pack for the team’s road trip.

With a little pit stop next door.

I knew Cole went out for his stupid weekend run on Saturday mornings, a fact Jessie had confirmed when she was complaining about him at one point. Running isn’t intrinsically stupid, but Cole is, so it’s his stupid little run. Either way, he was due to be out of his apartment. I unpacked what I needed from the grocery bags, listened at the door, and used Jessie’s key to go in. If I got caught, I was screwed. I had plans to tell him I was grabbing something Jessie forgot as a cover. But if I succeeded? He got every last thing he deserved.

Jessie was starting to wake when I got back home. I placed her hazelnut latte and breakfast sandwich on the nightstand, along with two ibuprofen. She grumbled as I sat them down.

“Morning, sunshine.”

“Hey,” she croaked.

“How you feelin’?”

“Pain.”

“Here.” I placed the two pills in her hand and gave her the Princes water cup I’d gotten for her. She always complained about her glass sweating when she put ice in it, so a stainless steel monstrosity seemed to be the cure.

“Thanks.” She flopped back on her pillow. “I was pretty bad, wasn’t I?”

The corner of my lips lifted as I sat on the edge of the bed. “You were fine. I wanted you to cut loose for a night. You’re always so uptight.”

“Oh God. Did I kiss—? Was I all over you?”

My stomach panged. There was the regret I feared. “It was fine, hon. Promise.”

She sat up, examining her shirt. My shirt. “Did you... get me dressed?”

Damn, she really was drunk. I didn’t think she’d blacked out. It made me more glad that I didn’t give in to her special requests at bedtime. And in the elevator. I wanted her to want those things with me sober. And if she didn’t, I couldn’t keep getting played with when she was drunk.

“Yeah. I asked if you wanted jammies, and you asked for my shirt.”

“Oh my God. I’m so sorry.” Little did she know how much I liked her snuggling me and wearing my shirt. She wiped under her eyes, examining the mascara streaks on her fingers. “Did I cry or something?”

“You told me about the storm thing.”

Her eyes rounded, panic setting in.

“It’s okay, Jessalyn. I’m glad you told me. I hope you’re not too upset.”

She nodded, not meeting my eyes.

“Do you think about it a lot?”

She sat back on the pillows. “Sometimes more than others. When I’m under a lot of stress it comes up. Which between work and Cole and... everything, it’s been a lot lately.”

I grabbed her hand. “Know that you have me if you ever want to talk.”

The corner of her lips lifted and she squeezed my hand back. “Thanks, Benny.” We exchanged a long glance. I could get lost in those hazel eyes, even when they were tired and bloodshot.

“But hey, this is yours,” I said, handing her the hazelnut latte. “And this.” The breakfast sandwich. “Felt like you could use some caffeine and grease.”

She lunged at me, throwing her arms around my neck. “Where did you come from, Benjamin Michael Jockey?”

I laughed, returning her hug. “Next door.”

She was napping on the couch when I left for my road trip, some trash show on the TV. She wore my shirt still but had added her own sweatpants. She was curled in a tight ball, so I threw a blanket over her. She stirred, cracking an eye open.

“Thanks for the blankie,” she mumbled.

“No problem,” I said with a laugh. “Get some rest. I’ll be back late Wednesday night.”

“K. Have a good trip, Jockey.”

I turned to go, but she spoke again, sitting up.

“Ben?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks,” she said carefully, “for last night. I don’t know what all I did, but I think you did a lot. So thanks.”

“Anytime, Sweet Cheeks. No benders while I’m gone.”

A pillow from the couch flew my way.