Chapter 17 JOVI #3
“Jovi! I was so worried about you!” she blurts, her raspy voice muffled against my shoulder.
“We heard about the hurricane and when I couldn't reach you I—” she pulls back just enough to look at me, her blue eyes wide, telling me a hundred things without saying what she's really saying.
“I called the cruise line and I threatened the living shit out of them. I had to see for myself that you were safe.” I can feel the panic in her ease slightly, replaced with bittersweet relief.
Not so much for me. I feel like I'm going to die. Shiloh’s grip loosens, but I can still feel the tremor in her arms. I swallow hard, tasting the metallic tang of fear, panic and sadness as my brothers walk closer to stand beside Shiloh.
“Hey man,” Axl says, reaching out to shake Beau and Haze’s hands. “How’s it going?” Phoenix and Zane follow suit, and when their eyes meet West’s, the looks on their faces make me want to hide and never show my face again.
“Carrington,” Zane says, holding out a hand to greet him. West takes it, nodding slightly, and I see how my brothers thought West was all business, because right now, he's standing there like we're all in trouble for something. It's us, West. We're the ones in trouble.
“Hey kiddo,” Axl says, walking around the others to give me a hug. “Glad you didn't die.”
“Oh, I kinda wish I did,” I whisper, and he smirks knowingly at me.
“Someone’s been a little naughty,” he whispers back, but Shiloh hears him and slaps his arm. “What?!” She shoots him a death glare that is so unbelievably Shiloh, and I silently thank her for having my back, even when it comes to my brothers.
“Let's go inside,” West says, but his eyes are on Theo, standing behind my best friend, his face devoid of emotion.
I didn't see it before, but he and West are a little alike in the feelings department.
Everyone nods, and I turn, walking into the house wishing I could run upstairs and hide.
But I can't. It's all or nothing. And I meant it when I said that I was all in.
Which means, we're doing this. I just wish it wasn't like this.
We're sitting in the kitchen watching Beau make drinks at the large island bench. Theo’s leaning against the wall, his arms crossed and I don't know why but Shiloh is hovering around him, chatting with him every now and then.
Did I miss something? Since when were they on talking terms?
I mean, I don't care. I'm just curious. Five minutes ago she was ready to stick pins into a Theo Carrington voodoo doll for the way things went down between us.
Though, if I'm being honest, I'm kind of glad she's being a buffer, without her, he'd just be standing there stewing and not saying a damn word.
Probably growing angrier by the second. Would I blame him if he did?
Not really. But it's more complicated than that.
Once we've all settled in, our drinks in hand, Beau drops into the seat beside Haze and I look anywhere but at my guys.
My brothers, Zane and Shiloh broke into a huge story about how they'd heard about the hurricane, and that's when Shiloh told them in detail about the cruise.
They hit the panic button, and immediately sprung into rescue mode, which is both embarrassing and sweet all at the same time.
I'd forgotten that Zane has a helicopter license, which is random as fuck, but apparently useful.
Still, they could've just paid someone, but they're known for their flair, I guess.
When the conversation fades, it's West who speaks first. He hasn't said much this entire time and I won't lie and say that I'm not nervous.
“Hey, son,” he says, looking over at Theo who just stares back in response. A beat passes, and he finally speaks.
“Hey, Dad. Glad you're okay.” My heart skips unexpectedly, because right now, he's not my idiot ex.
He's a son who was worried about his father and jumped into a helicopter with four people he knows doesn't like him very much, all because he was scared something happened to his father.
Before West or anyone else can reply, Theo pushes off the wall, his gaze locking on me. I go incredibly still.
“Actually, I’d like to speak to Jovi.” I glance over at West, leaning against the kitchen bench opposite us, his arms crossed, much like Theo’s just were.
Hm. They really are alike. West’s eyes do that weird thing they do when he's trying not to lose control, and I look over at Beau and Haze who look like they're here to commit murder.
They're territorial, but they also know that it's Theo. West's son. And that will always win.
My stomach flips as I rise from the bar stool, and slowly, I nod. Maybe I can do this. Maybe if I explain everything, it'll be fine. And if it isn't… Maybe I'll have no option but to back out of this so that he and his father can finally mend their already rocky relationship. I can do that… right?
What am I thinking, of course I would. I refuse to be the reason West is unhappy. I can't live with that and what if eventually he starts to resent me? There's a chance that he won't, but there's also a chance that he will and I don't like the thought of him hating me. Not ever.
I turn and head upstairs, Theo following behind me. I can feel everyone's eyes on us the entire way. Axl and Phoenix start talking with the guys about the storm, and I look back, noticing Zane’s attention is on West.
Please go easy on him.
I walk into the living room, ignoring the anxiety threatening to overcome me.
I could’ve gone outside, but it's still such a mess and there's no furniture out there at the moment.
If I have any sort of a chance of smoothing things out with Theo, I'm going to need somewhere comfortable and as casual as possible.
Even though nothing about this interaction is comfortable.