Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
MATT
My knuckles rap against the blue door of Jensen and Alley’s house. I know I’m about to get grilled with questions from my best friend, but I’m more than ready for it because it’s Monday Night Football.
And I fucking live for Monday Night Football with Jensen and Alley.
Having them gone has been harder than I expected. Things aren’t the same. Thank Christ Jordan came waltzing back into my life when she did, because as much as I hate to admit it, it’s been lonely. I’m used to being just a short elevator ride away from my people.
I have other friends from work, college, and Jensen’s family. I actually do a lot with Megan and Kevin. But nothing beats hanging out with your childhood best friend.
Jensen and I did everything together growing up, and he’s always had my back. More than once, I started fights I knew damn well I couldn’t win, and Jensen would jump right in, no questions asked. He’s loyal like that.
One time in ninth grade, when Jordan and I had broken up, she turned her attention to Jensen just to make me jealous. Jensen didn’t even entertain it. Not for one second.
And Jordan was the it girl. Every guy had a crush on her.
That led to some heated, immature arguments between me and Jordan later on, but it never mattered. We always found our way back to each other.
The door swings open, and Jensen grins. “Hey, man!”
“Hey, brother,” I reply as we clap hands and pull each other in for a quick hug.
We separate, and Jensen gestures me inside. “Come in. Alley’s got a whole spread for us waiting in the kitchen.”
“She’s making us food?” I ask as I wander into the living room. “Shouldn’t she be relaxing?”
“Jesus, Matt. I’m pregnant. Not dying!” Alley calls from the kitchen.
“Could have fooled me, Al. Where were you on draft night?” I call back.
Draft night for fantasy football is a big deal every year. A full-blown party. Jensen joined us on Zoom, but Alley? She went to bed early, and Jensen had to draft her team.
“I was dead asleep.” Alley rounds the corner, a smile lighting up her face when she sees me. “Hi!” she says, stepping in for a hug.
“Hey.” I wrap my arms around her as best I can with the giant belly between us. She’s always felt like family. I kiss the top of her head. “How’re you feeling? You didn’t need to cook for us.”
She pulls back, brows scrunching. “Don’t be dumb. I’m fine. I feel great, and you know I love this. I’m just glad you’re here. I didn’t think we’d get to watch football with you this year.”
“Yeah, this is great,” Jensen says, then lifts a brow. “Where’s your wife, by the way?” He tries to smother a grin but fails.
Alley swats his arm. “Babe! Seriously? Already?”
I chuckle and lift my arms in a half shrug. “I probably deserve that. But Jesus, can’t I have five minutes before you interrogate me?”
“No way in hell. Not when you go and get married behind our backs—which I still don’t even believe, by the way. What the fuck is going on? Because I know you. You don’t just get married. Does this have something to do with the custody thing?”
Fuck. Guess the jig is up. At least with these two. Lasted longer than I expected.
I blow out a breath. “Is it that obvious?”
Alley’s eyes go wide, and Jensen shakes his head. “Jesus, Matt. Are you serious? What the hell were you thinking?”
“I know. It sounds crazy. Reckless, even. But I have to get custody of Cole. He needs me. And God, the court hearing. It was over before it even began. Cece’s lawyer painted me like a walking red flag—business trips, women, tabloids. He made me look irresponsible.”
I almost laugh, because hearing it out loud sounds even stupider than it did that day in court. I point to myself. “Me. Irresponsible. Can you believe that? I run multimillion-dollar companies, but I’m irresponsible?” I scoff, the frustration of it all rising.
Alley gasps. “God, I’m so sorry, Matt. That sucks.”
“Thanks, Al. It does suck.”
I turn to Jensen. He closes his eyes briefly, then shakes his head like he can’t believe this is real. “So you marry the girl you’ve been in love with your whole life?” A laugh slips out of him. “That’s your plan?”
“Don’t fucking do that.” My irritation climbs, and I rake a hand through my hair. “That’s not what this is. Jordan’s a friend helping me get custody of a boy who just lost his father. She’s doing it for Cole. We’ll be divorced in five months when this is over. It’s not that big of a deal.”
But even as I say it, I know it isn’t true. It is a big deal, and hearing it out loud makes it feel bigger than it did an hour ago.
“It’s not that big of a deal? Do you hear yourself?
You just married Jordan. It’s Jordan.” His mouth curves as he scoffs.
“It’ll all be over in five months. Jesus.
Did your dick get the memo?” He laughs again.
“You are so fucking screwed, man.” He steals a quick glance at Alley, who’s now staring at him morbidly.
I clench my jaw. I’m used to Jensen poking at me when it comes to Jordan. It’s never bothered me.
It fucking bothers me now.
“Christ. Sorry I told you,” I mutter, grabbing a plate and piling chicken wings onto it, heat blazing through my veins.
Jensen lifts his hands up in mock defense. “Whoa. Sorry. Didn’t know you were so sensitive.” His eyes narrow, like he can’t understand why it’s different this time.
Or maybe that look is because he knows exactly why and isn’t going to be the one to say it.
Doesn’t matter.
He doesn’t know the half of it. Doesn’t know that I have to convince a random stranger that our marriage is real. That I’m the best choice for Cole. That Jordan and I agreed not to sleep together. That we’ll have separate rooms in New York.
Shit. Chicago.
We’ll be sharing a bed.
Jesus. I’m fucked.
But this was the best I could do with the time and resources I had.
“I’m not fucking sensitive,” I huff. “I’m just—I’m worried about Cole.”
His face softens, regret flashing across it.
And just like that, I know the topic of the fake marriage is done.
I’m a goddamn mastermind at shutting down shit I don’t want to talk about.
I clap my hands together hard and whoop at the TV. The Bears just scored another touchdown. The Jets have always been my number one team, but the Bears are a close second, and the Jets aren’t playing.
This is just what I needed after this weekend—football, beer, my friends—aside from the confrontation from Jensen earlier. No big deal. It’s how we roll. We call bullshit when we see it. I did when he was fucked up and using. More than once. This time, it’s his turn.
I take a swig of the craft IPA Jensen picked up for me. I don’t need to drink while watching the game, especially when he’s not. But I’m never turning down a local beer, and Chicago has some of the best.
On that note, I reach inside my jacket and pull out a box, one my assistant gift-wrapped for me. I hold it out to Jensen. “Here. I got this for you.”
His brows furrow. “What’s this for?”
“I missed your one-year sobriety. It was the day after Nate died, and I just… sort of spaced it. But I’d planned to give this to you.” I smack my hand against his back. “Sorry I’m late, but proud of you, brother. Congratulations.”
“Thanks, man.” He takes it from me, tearing the paper off and opening the box. He pulls out the custom-made watch, eyes widening. It’s no high-end brand. He’d be weird about accepting something like that. But it’s nice. Expensive and luxurious for most people.
“There’s an inscription on the back there,” I say, pointing.
He turns it over and reads, “One day at a time. Nine-five.”
He nods a few times, taking it in, then looks up at me. “Means a lot to me that you’d even remember.”
“Yeah, kind of hard not to,” I quip.
He chuckles softly. “This—this is really special.” His voice wavers. “Thank you.”
I hate when he gets all sentimental like that because it’s fucking contagious. I’m not about to sit here and get all teary-eyed with my best friend. Not over this.
I clear my throat. “It’s nothing. Not a big deal. I’m just glad you’re not an asshole anymore.” I grin. “It’s good to see you and Al moving forward and happy.”
I turn my attention back to the game. That’s enough sap for one night.
Jensen’s gaze lingers on me. I know exactly what he’s thinking, what he wants to say and doesn’t. But he also knows I won’t give an inch when it comes to Jordan.
So he leaves it.
After a moment, Jensen says, “So… aside from all the stuff with Jordan, how are you holding up with everything else? You never talk about it. About Nate being gone.”
A sting hits my eyes, and my throat works to keep it in check.
Exactly why I don’t fucking talk about it.
“I’m fine,” I say finally. “Sucks, but… I don’t know.
Just trying to stay focused on the things that matter.
” I rub a hand over the back of my neck.
“Cole, mostly. That’s who I worry about.
Nate was such a good dad to him. He’s a good kid—honest, hardworking.
Nate used to brag about how he’d mow the lawn without being asked.
” I swallow. “He was gonna grow into a good man. I just hope I—or Cece—don’t fuck that up. ”
Jensen’s gaze flicks between me and the TV.
I don’t open up about shit. Not like this anyway.
He doesn’t say anything.
I let out a quiet chuckle and tip my head back, more to loosen the tightness in my chest. “It’s funny…
I don’t think I would have mourned the loss of my dad at his age.
Fuck. I think it almost hurts more he’s still alive and doesn’t give a shit.
” I shake my head. “What a difference it makes when someone good dies.”
I blow out a breath. “Sometimes when I’m texting Cole it seems like he’s barely holding it together. But most of the time? You wouldn’t even know something was wrong. Not because he’s okay, but because he’s shut down completely. Doesn’t show anything. Just holds it all in.”
“Shit,” Jensen mutters, glancing at me. “That’s tough. I’m sorry.”
I shrug. “We’ll figure it out. Just gotta get through the next few months.”
We watch the screen in silence for a minute. Jensen shifts, then turns toward me. “But how are you, man?”
“Doesn’t matter how I am. Not when Cole’s future is on the line.” My ribs tighten around my lungs as the weight of Nate’s absence crawls in again—the quiet pain of losing the only real family member that ever meant anything to me. “I don’t get that luxury.”
I clear my throat and take a sip of my beer.
“You know me and Alley are here,” Jensen says. “If you need anything. With Cole. With Jordan. We’ve got you, man.”
“Thanks, brother. I know.” I know he means it. Alley’s checked in with Cole a few times already.
Our attention settles back on the football game, and eventually Jensen takes off his old watch and replaces it with the new one.
“This is really nice,” he says, rotating his wrist. “Alley’s gonna love it.”
“Good. I’m glad,” I reply, followed immediately by an “Oh, fuck,” from me and a “Shit,” from Jensen when the Lions score.
My phone dings with a text.
Jordan
Shit. I can’t make Thursday work. I’ll be in the Hamptons. I can’t believe I forgot. Friday?
Dammit.
Sure. Friday it is. I just want to get you moved in… discreetly. And as soon as possible. Avoid talk. We don’t want people noticing you suddenly hauling all your shit into my place. Maybe start taking some things over tomorrow and stay at my place. We can get the rest this weekend.
Fuck. I’m suddenly nervous. What if this all backfires and blows up in our faces? Jensen saw right through it. Why wouldn’t anyone else?
Jordan
You want me to go play wifey in your massive penthouse and sleep in your bed while you’re gone? Done and done. You don’t have to ask twice. Might even go there tonight. Will Maggie be there?
She’s ridiculous. Acts like she didn’t grow up rich. Her grandfather’s wealthy as hell. He’s been beyond generous, even after everything that went down with her dad.
I thought you weren’t sleeping in my bed. And why do you need to know if Maggie will be there?
Maggie’s my housekeeper. She comes three times a week to clean, do laundry, and pick up and drop off my dry cleaning.
Jordan
I’m not sleeping in your bed when you’re in it. But if you’re not here? Sorry, rich boy, I’m a boujee bitch. I love luxury sheets and pillows. And sometimes I like to walk around naked. Need to know if Maggie will be there.
This is a real-life rags to riches, isn’t it?
Just sweeping you off the streets so your Christian Louboutins don’t get dirty.
Poor thing. Enjoy your sleep, princess. And Maggie won’t be there until ten tomorrow.
Knock yourself out... but I have the cameras.
If I see you naked, I’ll assume you want me to. I won’t be mad, babe.
Jordan
Creep.
Let Mikey know I’m coming.
I thumbs up the text, and send a quick message to Mikey, letting him know Jordan will be coming and going and to let her up whenever she needs.
Jordan
Wait… are there cameras in the bedrooms?
Bathrooms?
I shake my head, grinning.
You’ve never cared before.
Alley comes into the living room carrying a beer and two sparkling waters. She holds the beer out to me. “Here.”
“Thanks, Al.” I take it, setting it on a coaster on the coffee table.
She sets her and Jensen’s water down, then drops onto the couch beside him with an exhale, threading her fingers through his.
He presses a kiss to her temple. “Thanks, babe.”
Another text comes through.
Jordan
It’s different now…
I’ve seen your tits, babe. That hasn’t changed.
Jordan
Can you just tell me if you’re a borderline psychopath or not?
Ouch. No cameras in the bathrooms or guest bedrooms. But they’re in all the other rooms. And my bedroom. I can turn those off, though.
I’d never sit and watch btw.
Jordan
Of course you wouldn’t.
You’d stand. Perv.
Night.
I chuckle under my breath. One thing’s for certain. Things are about to get very interesting.
I glance at Jensen and Alley. God, it looks uncomfortable, being that pregnant.
“How do you two have sex right now?” I lift my beer to my lips. “Seems challenging.”
They both laugh.
“Very carefully,” Alley says.
“Lots of doggy and reverse cowgirl,” Jensen adds, darting a glance at Alley for approval.
Alley doesn’t care. There are no lines or limits with the whole Adams family. She knows that. And she’s always loved that about them… and me… well, all of us.
They’re not blood, but they’re my family.
I learned a long time ago that the family you’re born into doesn’t mean shit.
It’s overrated.