Chapter 5 Jamie
JAMIE
Finn
Just giving you guys a heads-up. A friend of mine needs to stay with us a few days.
Ryker
A friend?
Jamie
What friend?
Ryker
Is she a hot friend?
Finn
Why’s it gotta be a she?
Ryker
You don’t offer your house up to a dude you’ve got no interest in.
Jamie
It’s my house he’s offering up. Didn’t maybe want to oh, I don’t know, ask first?
Finn
Your house is six thousand square feet, you over the top asshole. You’ve got the room, and she’s had a bad fucking day. Be nice when we get there.
And not all of us think with our dicks, dickhead.
Fuck. No. He’s only got one friend I know of who’s had a bad day . . .
Ryker
Those of us who aren’t liars admit we do. Does she have a name, and does that name belong to a hot woman? I mean, since you’re not interested.
Don’t say—
Finn
It’s Ashton. And keep your hands to yourself, Beneventi.
He said it.
Ryker
Ashton. Like little Ashton Carmichael? Like Coach Carmichael’s Ashton? I thought she was a dancer in Boston.
Finn
Yeah. She hasn’t seen him in a few years, but yeah, that Ashton. And she’s a ballerina in Chicago, not on a pole in Boston, you dick. She just got some fucked up family news and needs help. I offered. So be nice when we get there.
Ryker
I’m always nice. And what the hell is it with you guys and ballerinas? First Maverick finds one and now you. Seriously.
Finn
I haven’t found one. She’s my friend. And Jamie’s the dick, this time. I’m gonna need you to be nice this time, brother.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say she liked my dick last night, but even I’m not that big of an asshole. I just happen to have the sense of humor of a twelve-year-old. Dick jokes never get old.
Jamie
I’m not always a dick.
Finn
I’m not going to argue. We’ll be there in a few minutes.
I look across the kitchen island to where Ryker is dipping his grilled cheese in his tomato soup with a shit-eating grin and my lazy brown and white English Bulldog, Gus, sleeping by his feet.
“What?” I sign and say, unsure if he’s wearing his hearing aids today.
“He’s got to be tapping that, right?” he answers before biting into his sandwich, and I can’t begin to explain the red mist I see at the thought of my little brother touching Ashton that way.
“No,” I groan.
In all the years Finn and Ashton have had their weird-ass, codependent friendship, he’s always sworn that’s all it was. Friendship. As far as I know, he’s never made a move and never wanted to. And I’ve asked a few times over the years.
If I didn’t know him the way I do, I’d think maybe women weren’t his thing. He never makes much time for them. He’s always been too busy focusing on his career to spend more than a night or two with anyone. Even so, how he’s never been attracted to this particular woman is beyond me.
If things were different with them, I would’ve never let anything happen last night.
I’m an asshole, but even I have boundaries I don’t cross.
But Ashton is . . . Fucking hell. She’s gorgeous and feisty and intelligent and kind when she’s not being a raging bitch, which Finn swears she only is around me.
And my little brother just invited her to stay here.
In my house.
Guess she didn’t mention last night to Finn.
Why the hell does that piss me off?
“There’s no way they’re together,” I tell Ryker, who’s watching me with a little too much interest. Like he knows there’s more. “Trust me.”
“Trust you?” Ryker drops his sandwich and stares in disbelief. “And why should I trust you, Murph? You hate that girl, don’t you?”
The bad thing about having friends who’ve known you all your life is they’ve known you all your life.
Sometimes better than you know yourself.
Ryker’s been like a little brother to me since he was born, sometimes more so than Finn.
His older brother, Maverick, is my best friend.
The three of us have played football together since peewees.
We’re on the Philly Kings together. We lived together at Mav’s house with him and his daughter, Rosie, until he married his wife.
When it was time for us to give them their space, Ryker moved into my place instead of his own. A year later, Finn came home from med school to do his residency in Kroydon Hills, and well, I’m pretty sure I’m never getting rid of either of them now.
“I don’t hate her,” I protest, unsure how to explain just how much I don’t hate her these days.
Gus lifts his head right before the alarm chimes, and the security screen in the kitchen flashes red, letting Ryker know someone’s walked inside the house, and I turn and stare.
Because Finn follows Ashton through the door, the bags I carried for her this morning in one hand and a baby carrier in the other.
Ryker and I look at each other for a second, then scramble out of the kitchen like our asses are on fire, pushing and shoving to get to the foyer first.
Four hours ago, Ashton Carmichael was single, without a kid in sight.
She was also naked and pliant in my arms.
Then she woke up, and that went to hell.
How the hell did she turn into a single mom between then and now?
Finn gently sets the gray baby carrier on the floor, and I watch as Ashton bends down and unbuckles a baby girl, whispering quiet words as the tiny thing startles.
She lifts her out awkwardly, like she’s never held a kid before, and by the time she straightens, the baby wailing in her arms, Ashton looks like she’s ready to cry too.
“You guys remember Ashton?” Finn asks, but his eyes are shooting fucking daggers at me like he has to protect this girl, who’s clearly on the verge of a breakdown, and I’m the one he’s protecting her from.
“Hey, Ashton,” Ryker says and signs as Gus makes it to the room and sniffs a circle around Ashton before flopping at Finn’s feet.
The baby cries louder, and I move closer to this woman I now know might put up an icy front but melts the minute she lets herself relax.
“And who’s the pissed-off princess?” I ask, smiling.
She reminds me immediately of Rosie. That kid cried whenever one of us would put her down.
As a baby, she wanted all the attention all the time.
This one just looks like she wants someone who has a clue how to hold her.
I reach for her, but Ashton takes a step back, forcing me to reconsider my stance. “Can I?”
“Can you what?” Ashton snaps, and Finn groans.
“Do you think the two of you could try to play nice?” He looks from Ashton to me. “Her name is Kyrie.”
“Kyrie?” I question, wanting to know what’s changed since this morning but unable to ask.
“Yes, Kir-ree,” she sounds it out for me. “Like Valkyrie,” Ashton answers as if reading my mind. “She’s my sister.” Her eyes soften, and she nibbles her lip, I’m pretty sure begging me not to say anything about last night.
No problem there. I don’t need Finn taking a scalpel to my balls while I sleep because I ruined his perfect little best friend.
“My mom was in an accident.” She angles herself so Ryker can read her lips since her hands are occupied, and my respect for this woman who has spent barely any time in this town in ten years grows.
Even with whatever fucked up family shit she’s been dealt today, she’s still aware of the people in the room and their needs.
Maybe she’s not always a brat. “She’s been arrested and is being detained.
Kyrie needed someone to take care of her, and I’m her only family. ”
Kyrie’s cries grow more shrill by the minute, and I slowly reach for her again, giving Ashton plenty of time to say no. “I’m pretty good with babies. Can I try?”
Ashton drags her teeth over her bottom lip, debating, before finally giving in and nodding her head.
And like an old habit you never forget, I scoop the tiny baby out of her big sister’s arms and turn her against my chest. My palm covers her entire back as I sway.
“Hello, princess,” I coo softly as big blue eyes blink up at me, giant tears tracking down her cheeks as her stuttered breathing begins to slow.
“That’s better, baby girl. I’ve got you. ”
When your best friend has a kid right out of college, you learn about babies pretty fast. Most twenty-two-year-olds wouldn’t embrace fatherhood the way Mav did, but he jumped in with both feet, which meant as his best friend, so did I.
“What. The. Hell?” Ashton whispers, and I preen like the fucking peacock Maverick likes to bust my balls about being.
Kyrie’s cries stop altogether, and her little Kewpie doll lips purse like she’s deep in thought.
“Didn’t I tell you?” Finn laughs. “Jamie’s the baby whisperer.”
“Did they give you a binky?” I ask Ashton, and she just stares back at me blankly, like she’s hit her breaking point.
“A what?”
I look around for the rest of Kyrie’s stuff but come up blank. It looks like it’s the baby carrier and the two bags Ashton had with her this morning. That’s it. “A pacifier . . .”
“Maybe,” she murmurs and looks at the bags on the floor. “There’s a diaper bag they sent with us. I must have . . .” She turns toward the door. “I must have left it in the car.”
“I’ll get it,” Finn tells her. “Why don’t you go sit down, and we’ll figure out the next steps.” He walks back through the front door, and Ashton looks up at me, blinking like her sister just did.
“How did you do that?” she whispers, lifting a hand to stroke Kyrie’s back but stopping before she can touch her. “She’s cried all day.”
I shrug. “Babies like me.”
“Babies sense fear and stress and anger. They’re like little ticking time bombs, waiting for anything to upset their happy little bubble,” Ryker adds. “Live with one long enough, and you’ll get used to it.”
I drag my finger over Kyrie’s round face and smile when she wrinkles her nose. “Ryker and I lived with Mav when his daughter Rosie was little. We’re pretty good with babies and toddlers.”