Chapter 22
JJ
My phone rings, waking me up from a deep sleep. I’m confused when I hear someone groan and feel them roll over beside me. A foot grazes my shin. There’s definitely someone in bed with me. I don’t take people home, so why is there someone in my bed? When I open my eyes, it all makes sense.
I’m not home.
I blink a few times, then glance to my left.
Miles.
Panic swirls in my chest as the ring tone keeps going—I can’t believe I stayed the night. The entire night.
I get out of bed and find my pants. By the time I get my phone from the pocket, the call is done, but it starts right back up again. If Nash is calling me twice, it must be important.
“Yeah?” I say, leaving the bedroom so I don’t wake up Miles.
“You still sleeping?”
“Obviously not anymore.”
“We need to meet for lunch. It’s important.”
“Nash—”
“It’s important, JJ. Just meet me. Fuck.”
“Okay,” I hiss. “When? Where?”
“Hour. At Betty’s.”
“Fine.” I end the call, run my hand through my hair and figure out what the hell I’m going to do.
Get out of here. That’s what. If Nash needs me to meet him, I have to meet him.
I use the bathroom before quietly heading back into the bedroom to pick up my clothes that’re in a pile just inside the door.
I carry them back to the bathroom to get dressed without bothering Miles.
His bathroom is small, what you’d expect for an apartment bathroom, but it’s neat and tidy, even though he has a million things all over the counter space.
Face creams and hair butter—what the fuck is hair butter?
There are brushes and combs. Floss, toothpaste, mouthwash.
He takes care of himself, that much is clear.
I pull the door open, and he’s standing right there, leaning against the wall. The look on his face isn’t quite happy.
“Heading out?” he asks, his tone flat.
“Uh, yeah,” I say.
He nods, giving me a cold look as he gestures for the bathroom. “Can I get in there?”
“Of course.”
We swap spots, and he turns to face me, his hand on the knob. “You going to be here when I get out?”
“I really have to go.”
He nods, chewing on the inside of his cheek. His eyes are a little red, but that’s probably from everything he drank last night.
“Okay,” he says as he closes the door.
I stand there for a moment—longer than I should, risking still being here when he gets out.
I shouldn’t leave him like this. I know I keep doing it and it’s not okay, but I really have to go this time. Nash needs me. So, I grab my jacket and go.
I’m halfway down the stairs when the downstairs apartment door opens and out bounces Noah. His gaze goes right to me and he smiles wide.
“Hey, you’re the firefighter!” he shouts.
Audrey pops her head out, confused, but then smiles.
“Good morning,” she says brightly, coming out and closing her door. She looks so much like Miles, but in female form. Same blonde hair and blue eyes.
“Morning,” I say.
“Mom, he’s the firefighter that Uncle Miles is friends with. He showed me all the cool tools in the truck and taught me how to play pool.”
“Thanks for doing that,” she says, giving me another smile.
“Of course. Kids are always welcome at the firehouse,” I say politely.
“Mom, can we go after we’re done shopping?”
“I don’t know, honey. We have other stuff to do.” She shoves her purse up her shoulder.
Noah groans. “I’ll just have to ask Uncle Miles then.”
She opens the front door and Noah scurries out.
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” she says, holding the door open for me, so I move down the rest of the steps and onto the porch.
“You too,” I say as I hurry down the steps and start down the driveway.
“Are you walking somewhere?” she calls out.
I hold up my phone. “Going to catch a car.”
“Let me give you a ride,” she says.
“Oh, no, I—”
“I insist,” she says firmly. In a way that I can’t imagine Miles ever speaking in. It’s not mean, but it is insistent—as she said.
“Okay, sure. As long as it’s not out of your way.”
“I assure you it isn’t.”
With a sigh, I head to the car and get into the front.
This is not how I expected to spend my morning, but I guess I didn’t think much of that when I went to bed last night.
Not sure what I was thinking last night at all.
I don’t do sleepovers. Yet I can’t deny sleeping in the same bed as Miles was so fucking nice.
“A firefighter in the car? That’s so cool!” Noah says.
I huff a laugh as Audrey starts the car.
“Well, where am I going?” she asks.
“Oh, right.” I tap my address into the GPS, and once it’s set, Audrey backs out of the driveway and we’re on our way.
“Are you working today, Mr. Firefighter?”
“He has a name, Noah,” Audrey says.
“I forgot it.”
“Then ask.”
He huffs. “What’s your name? I’m sorry I forgot but there are so many of you.”
I huff a laugh. “It’s okay, bud. It’s JJ.”
“That’s right!”
“And no, I’m not working today. Not until Tuesday.”
“Wow, that’s a lot of days off. Mom, why don’t you get that many days off?”
Audrey smirks. “Well, if I worked as long as JJ did, then I would.”
“She’s right,” I say, glancing at him in the backseat. “I work for a whole day. I go in in the morning, around the time you start school, and I don’t leave until the next morning.”
“Wow, so you work when I’m sleeping?”
“That’s right.”
“Holy cow. That’s nuts. Can you put the music on, Mom?”
The sudden change of subject has me laughing to myself. Audrey puts the radio on. I get the feeling she wants to ask me something or talk, but she doesn’t say a single word to me. It doesn’t feel weird, but I keep waiting for something.
When she pulls up in front of my house, she does say, “Hope to see you again.”
“Thank you so much for the ride.”
“Any time.”
“Bye, JJ!” Noah calls from the back seat.
“Later, bud. See you soon.”
I wave, and as the car door closes, I hear Noah say, “He said soon!”
I head into my house, take the quickest shower of my life, change my clothes, and head out to meet my brother.
I can’t imagine what’s so important that he needs to meet me right now.
Maybe something with Hollis? I’m the first person they call though.
Unless I missed another call that I didn’t notice.
I pull up to the small cafe and park in the even smaller lot. It holds only a couple cars, and my truck hardly fits in it—never mind with Nash’s truck already in here. I do my best to wiggle in, the poor tiny Ford between us looking like a Hot Wheels car.
The building is old, the business passed down a few generations.
It used to just be a bakery back in the day, but with times changing, it’s turned into a full cafe that offers all the same hip drinks as the rest of them, only the clientele hasn’t really changed much.
I keep waiting for the day some hipster discovers it and makes it famous.
Beatrice—Betty’s granddaughter—would deserve that.
I head inside, the bell above the door jingling to announce my entrance. I’m unable to miss my giant of a brother taking up the corner of the cafe. It smells like a mix of coffee and pastry, the same way you’d expect any other cafe to smell.
The décor is simple with artistic photos of coffee beans and muffins on the walls. There is a long stand up counter along the window for those not wanting to sit, and a handful of small tables and chairs. Most people grab and go here, but I have seen the tables full.
“Hiya, JJ!” Bea calls out from behind the glass pastry case.
“Hey, Bea.” I lift my hand in greeting.
“I’ll be right over to take your order.”
I sit across from my brother, that same smug look that’s always on his face is still there.
The guy’s face is worse than mine in the resting bitch face department.
It’s a good thing he turned out to be a cop.
He could never work in a field where he needs to be nice to people.
They’d run in the opposite direction immediately.
Nash, unfortunately, is a spitting image of our father.
He acts like it doesn’t bother him, and since he doesn’t look at himself all the time, I guess it doesn’t.
His hair is just as dark and thick, both on his head and his beard.
What really makes him look like our dad are his deep-set eyes and nose.
I hate that the similarities give me a small spike of anxiety when I see him because I know he’s not our father, but the trauma is so bad that even the reminder of him gets to me.
My brother has done a lot for me, Hollis too, especially when we were younger, so my reaction to him only makes me feel guilty.
“Glad you made it,” he says.
“Told you I’d be here.”
“How’re my favorite guys?” Bea asks as she reaches the table, smiling brightly.
She’s Nash’s age, a few years older than me, and not that we’re friends, but we’re friendly. Ever since Nash and I saved her business—according to her, anyway.
Nash and I were at the bar across the street, came out for him to have a smoke, but saw smoke coming from the building.
He called it in, but I broke in and handled the situation, which was an oven that was left on with a big pan of muffins inside.
Now she refuses to let us pay for a damn thing, so we always leave a hefty tip.
And this table service? It’s only for us. Everyone else has to order at the counter.
“Peachy,” I say.
“Yeah, that,” Nash laughs.
“You too always have something going on.”
“Well, with jobs like ours, it’s hard not to,” Nash says. “You got any of those banana nut muffins left?”
“Of course. And a coffee?”
“Yep.” He looks at me.
“Coffee, too, please. And a breakfast sandwich. Whichever is easiest.”
“You got a problem with vegetables?” she asks.
“Not last I checked.”
“Good,” she says with a smile. “We’re trying out this new omelet. You can let me know what you think about it.” She leaves us alone, and I lean back in my chair, waiting for Nash to tell me what’s going on.
Soft instrumental music plays in the background as cars honk outside. People walk by on the sidewalk, rushing to where they need to go. Looks like rain, so they should hurry up.