8. Zander
8
ZANDER
Ring . Ring . Ring .
I jerked awake, my heart racing and my mind still clouded with sleep.
Blinking in the dark room, I groped on my night table for my phone, almost knocking it over as I grabbed it. Sitting up, I checked the screen.
“Mom?” I answered, my voice thick and hoarse.
“Why do you sound like you were asleep?” she asked, not bothering with a greeting.
“Because I was.” Still not fully awake, I pushed my hair back from where it had fallen over my face.
“It’s almost nine,” she said incredulously. “Did you plan to sleep your day away?”
I stifled a yawn. “No. What’s up?”
“I need you to help with the blood drive at church this weekend.”
“I’m working this weekend, same as every weekend.”
“You don’t work Sundays,” she pointed out. “You can take Saturday off just this once to help out.”
“No, I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“It’s Friday. I can’t just take tomorrow off with no notice. And I need the hours.” I didn’t add that the last place I wanted to spend any time, let alone a day off, would be at church.
She made an exasperated sound. “You can take one day off to help.”
“I really can’t.” I rubbed my eyes tiredly.
“What about today? Can you at least help with setting up?”
“What time?”
“From four until seven.”
“I’m working at two.”
“I don’t understand why you don’t work real hours,” she huffed. “You’ve been at that place for years, but they won’t move you to days? Are you that bad at your job?”
I drew in a deep breath and held it for a count of three. It didn’t matter what I said, my mother was convinced that I worked evenings and weekends because I wasn’t good enough to work days and not because I chose to do later shifts.
“I’m sorry I can’t help.” I made sure to keep my tone apologetic. “I hope the blood drive is a success.”
“Will you at least come and donate? Everyone else’s kids help out. I’m the only one who has to do everything alone. The least you can do is put in some face time since you refuse to do anything else to help.”
“I can’t. You know I’m not allowed to donate blood.”
“That incident was years ago,” she protested. “One bad reaction and you can’t donate ever again?”
“Those are the rules.”
Back in high school, I’d fainted after giving blood. One minute I was sitting in one of the plastic chairs waiting for my time to be up, and the next I woke up on the floor with a bump on my head and a sprained wrist from landing on it funny after I’d fallen.
“Do you need anything else?” I asked, not bothering to police my tone. I was so done with this conversation.
“A son who isn’t a giant disappointment would be nice.”
I didn’t even flinch. That wasn’t anything I hadn’t heard dozens of times before.
“Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to be the only one whose son doesn’t participate or help with events?” she demanded. “How badly that reflects on me?”
I’d stopped all involvement with our church at twenty-one and hadn’t looked back. My mother refused to accept that, and I didn’t see that changing.
“I’m sorry it’s so difficult for you.” I’d learned long ago that it was easier to just apologize and let her rant than it was to try and talk to her rationally about things.
“And yet you won’t do anything to change it.” She huffed out a breath. “After everything I did for you, you’re perfectly happy to abandon me the same as your father.”
My chest tightened, and a sour feeling filled my stomach. “I have to go,” I said tightly. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Not waiting for her answer, I ended the call and lay back down on my bed.
My mother was the only family I had, and she was also the only person who could hurt me like that. She’d spent my entire life telling me my father was a deadbeat who’d changed his mind about being a father, and that’s why he left when I was only four months old.
But instead of assuring me that it wasn’t my fault and he was the asshole who’d abandoned us, she’d thrown that in my face every time I disappointed her or didn’t give in to her demands.
I’d spent most of my life convinced I was a bad person and there was something wrong with me. I believed that I was the reason my father left. That if I was better or born different, he would have stayed, and I could have had a family like everyone else.
Ivy was the one who helped me realize that was bullshit. He left because he was an asshole. And she helped me see that his actions had nothing to do with me, and my mother was horrible for putting that on me as a child.
Even knowing that, it still hurt when she said shit like that, which was exactly why she did it.
With a loud sigh, I sat back up. I was awake now, and my alarm would be going off soon anyway. No point trying to go back to sleep.
“For fuck’s sake,” Asa muttered. “Can I have just one night to myself?” he asked under his breath.
I glanced over as he typed something into his phone, his thumbs flying over the screen.
When he was done, he huffed out a disgruntled sound and put his phone face down on the table.
It was Saturday night, and we were at a bar with some of the guys from work. Isaac and his best friend Jamie were playing pool, and Jesse and Sebastian were at a table across the bar, their heads bent together as they talked about something. Luka was chatting with a group of women near the bar, and Asa and I were at the table.
The only ones missing were Nate and Devon. Nate had five-year-old twins, so he didn’t come out with us much. Dev, like usual, had stopped by and had a drink with us but left early. He was our boss, and even though he was one of my best friends and was like a big brother to the younger employees, he was careful to give us a boss-free zone so we could decompress and not have to worry about what we said.
My gaze found its way to Luka and the crowd of women surrounding him. They were all beautiful and very interested in whatever he was saying.
He looked incredible in a pair of fitted dark wash jeans that showed off his thick thighs and round ass. His electric-blue long-sleeved shirt hugged his frame and made his eyes pop.
He also looked happy and relaxed as he flirted and smiled at the women. It was a far cry from the stressed-out and distracted man I’d seen at work for the past few weeks.
Something ugly curled in my stomach as one of the women put her hand on his chest and gazed up at him like he’d hung the moon and stars.
I didn’t miss how Luka gently took her wrist and stepped back, giving her a big smile and casually lowering her hand so she wasn’t touching him anymore. The move was so confident and natural that she didn’t even seem to notice the rejection.
The ugly feeling settled a bit, which was stupid.
I shouldn’t give a shit who Luka was talking to, or who had their hands all over him.
Tearing my eyes from Luka, I glanced at Asa. He was glaring at his phone like it owed him money.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
He rolled his shoulders and blew out a breath. “Yeah. Just my family being annoying. Nothing new.”
“Are you sure?”
Asa was incredibly private, and the best way to make him shut down was to try and force him to talk about something. Normally I wouldn’t press, but he’d been acting off for the past few weeks, and I was worried about him.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. My stepbrother moved back to town and our parents are… They’re being their usual annoying selves,” he finished, his tone telling me that barely scratched the surface of what was going on.
I’d worked with Asa for just over three years. He started as an apprentice and came on as full-time staff after he finished his training. He worked days with Jesse and Isaac, but we’d become good friends, even with our age difference.
Asa was only twenty-two, but he was one of the most mature people I’d ever met. He was what people called an old soul, but he was also stoic and reserved and preferred to observe people rather than participate.
Something we had in common.
Even after years as friends and coworkers, I didn’t know much about his family life. I knew his parents were divorced, and he had several younger half and stepsiblings. He’d mentioned an older stepbrother, but all I knew about him was that they didn’t get along, and he was some sort of athlete who’d gone to college on a scholarship. Was that the stepbrother who’d moved home?
“You’re lucky you’re an only child.” Asa grabbed his phone off the table and shoved it in his pocket. “I remember those days. I miss those days.”
“It has its advantages,” I said, keeping my tone neutral. Most people with siblings wished they were an only child, but like a lot of single kids, I wished I had a sibling.
Having another kid around would have made growing up easier. So would having someone to split my mother’s attention with.
“So why have you been a grump today?” Asa slid his gaze to mine and picked up his glass. “That’s my thing. You’re the brooding one. I’m the grumpy one.”
A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. “Let’s just say you’re not the only one with family issues.”
“Your mom?”
I nodded.
“What’s her problem this time?”
“She’s angry I can’t just drop everything whenever she wants because I work irregular hours.”
He arched one eyebrow and put his glass back on the table. “You mean the hours you’ve worked for five years?”
“Yup.”
“Why do parents do that?” he asked. “It’s like they think that because they made us, they get to have complete control over what we do. Like our whole purpose in life is to make theirs easier.”
I ran the tip of my finger over the rim of my glass. “I think a lot of parents forget their kids are autonomous people. That we’re not just mini versions of them, and they don’t know how to handle it when we try to assert our independence.”
“Does your mom ever do the ‘I gave you life’ argument? Like being born was your choice, and you’re supposed to be eternally grateful that you exist?”
“Constantly.”
He sighed. “Mine too. And they act like feeding me and putting a roof over my head is something I need to repay, like it’s not the bare minimum of what a parent is supposed to do.”
“Are we talking about shitty parents?” Isaac dropped down onto the chair on Asa’s other side. “Because I’ve got two that suck donkey balls.”
“I see your two shitty parents and raise you two asshole stepparents.” Asa toyed with the chain necklace he wore when he wasn’t at work.
“So glad I don’t have to deal with that shit,” Isaac said, his gaze fixed on Jamie as he stood at the bar, his eyes narrowing as a pretty redhead approached his best friend.
Isaac’s glare deepened as the redhead slipped into the empty space next to Jamie and gave her long hair a flirty flip as she said something to him.
Jamie laughed and leaned against the bar.
Isaac’s lip curled up in a little snarl.
I exchanged a look with Asa.
Jamie and Isaac were two of the most laid-back and happy-go-lucky guys I’d ever met. They were also insanely high energy and had made a sport out of turning pretty much everything into a competition.
A perfect example was the shirt Jamie was currently wearing under his tee. The thing was tiny and ridiculous, more of a leotard than a shirt, but instead of being solid, it had a mess of tiny cuts and slits that gave it a spiderweb of patterns that cut across his skin. Apparently he’d lost a bet and had to wear it as punishment, but Isaac had been gracious enough to let him wear a t-shirt over it because of how indecent it was.
Was something going on between them? Isaac wasn’t acting like someone who was angry at their best friend; he seemed angry at the redhead for flirting with Jamie. Was he jealous?
Asa gave me a little shrug, but his expression told me he had the same suspicions I did.
As far as I knew, Isaac and Jamie were both straight, but they were so close and so in each other’s pockets that it wasn’t shocking that there might be some underlying tension between them.
“Thank fuck mine mostly ignore me,” Isaac continued, his eyes still on Jamie and the redhead. “Absent shitty parents are way better than present ones.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” Asa ran his finger over his necklace, his black nail polish shining under the lights. “It would be nice if mine could ignore me for a while.”
“Looks like Luka’s in for a good night.” Issac tore his gaze from Jamie and glanced at Asa and me. “Or a really good night, depending on how adventurous his new friends are feeling.”
Asa huffed out a soft laugh. “Not everything is the opening to a porn.”
“It is if you have a vivid enough imagination.” Isaac grinned.
An image of Luka tangled up in bed with the blonde who was currently pressed up against his side and rubbing his stomach suggestively flashed in my mind.
I shook my head before my imagination could conjure up an image of Luka in bed with all three women.
More jealousy churned in my gut, making the beer I’d had sit heavy in my stomach.
My attraction to him had only gotten stronger since that night at his apartment. But nothing had happened, so there was no reason for me to be acting this way.
We’d hung out for a bit after he told me about what was going on with his friends, just listening to music and chatting while we had a second drink. Then I went home.
That was it.
It didn’t matter that seeing him be vulnerable and knowing he trusted me enough to open up had shaken something loose inside me. It made no difference that the night was burned into my consciousness like a core memory. It meant nothing.
He needed someone to listen, but instead of being a friend, I went home and jerked off to thoughts of him in the shower.
I felt so guilty after that I tossed and turned for hours, and I’d spent the next few days stumbling over my words and barely able to make eye contact with him.
I needed to get a grip before I did or said anything that would ruin the tentative friendship we’d started to build.
“I need to get some air,” I said, abruptly pushing my chair back with a loud scrape.
Isaac and Asa glanced at me, but neither was surprised by my announcement. I wasn’t a fan of crowds and noise, and stepping away to decompress for a bit when we were out wasn’t unusual for me.
Only tonight I was escaping because I’d rather not have a front-row seat to Luka’s flirting, and I really didn’t need to see which woman he ended up taking home.
“I won’t be too long,” I said as I stood.
They both nodded. I tossed them a little wave as I hurried away from the table and toward the small hallway at the back of the bar where the bathrooms were, along with a door that led to a makeshift smoking area.