Chapter 11
JAMIE
Hey man – Sucks that your season ended so damn early,
but I heard Chicago’s loss could be Philly’s gain.
It is what it is.
We didn’t have the heart for it this year.
And nothing’s official yet.
That’s all you’re gonna say?
You gossip more than my mom, Murphy.
For now, that’s all there is to say.
As someone who was traded to Philly,
I’m here to tell you take the damn trade if it’s offered.
You’ve been gone for a long time, cousin.
Being home is pretty fucking great.
The family’s insane, but that’s never going to change.
Yeah . . . we’ll see.
—Text from Jamie to Hendrix
“Hey, buddy, you ever just wake up miserable?” I ask Gus as he stares me down, his big pink tongue lolling out of his mouth. “Because today’s one of those days, buddy.”
I scratch between his ears, and swear my damn dog might as well purr, he’s so happy when he plops down next to me.
But that’s before he basically does his awkward version of a K9 army crawl to get closer to Kyrie who’s lying on the floor beside my chest. He’s always careful not to get too close, but I’m pretty sure in his mind, he’s her guard dog or maybe she’s his baby.
Either way, my lazy bulldog has decided she’s his and he’s keeping her.
Same, buddy. Same.
Baby girl’s got all the men in the house wrapped around her pudgy fingers.
Human and K9 alike.
Kyrie lets out a battle cry as she rolls over to her back, and Gus looks over at me, pretty sure we’re equally shocked. If there were cartoon bubbles above his head, they’d definitely say, holy shit, did you see that?
“Way to go, princess. Look at you go.” I rub her belly excitedly as her legs pump in the air.
Lying on her back, she giggles and grabs her feet, trying to put them in her mouth.
“Was that your first roll? Did I just see your first—”
“Her first what?” Ashton asks as she walks into the room, a cup of tea in one hand, her phone in the other and that same pale look on her face she’s been sporting all week.
“She just rolled over.” I grin and watch as Gus moves around the happy baby so she’s sandwiched between us. Guess he doesn’t want her to roll away.
Oh shit.
Do I hear—
I push up to my feet when I’m sure I hear a second set of sniffles. And the gorgeous woman in front of me is sporting a boo-boo lip fit for a toddler, although I’m sure if I told her that now, the honey badger would come out to play. “Are you crying?”
Yeah. . . probably not the right thing to say.
Ashton shakes her head, ignoring the tears she’s fighting to contain as her lip trembles. “Absolutely not,” she squeaks and scoops Kyrie up off the floor, hugging her tightly to her chest. “Fine. Whatever. Yes, I’m crying. Happy now?”
“No. I’m not happy,” I tread carefully, balancing on a fine line. One I’m probably going to fall off at any second. “Did I do something?”
She shakes her head and presses her lips to Kyrie’s face, hiding hers from me.
“Was it Finn or Ryker? I can kick someone’s ass if you need me to. I’m good at that.” What I’m not good at is seeing her upset. She’s breaking my heart. “Tell me why you’re upset and let me fix it.”
“Why would you even want to fix it, Jamie? I’m not your problem.” She looks like she’s about to bolt, so I step in front of her, probably taking my life in my hands.
“Ashton—”
“I know I say arguing is easier, but it really isn’t today. Please . . .” Her voice trembles. “Not today.”
Fuck.
That’s when it clicks.
Of course we’re both having the same bad day, and I’m definitely an asshole for not thinking of it before now.
Something must have been the final straw to set her off, but this bomb has probably been ticking since she woke up this morning, and the only way I see to save her from it is to fall on it myself.
“I miss him, you know. Him and that stupid fucking strawberry cake he always wanted on his birthday. I fucking hated that cake,” I admit and watch as her eyes close, and her breath catches in her chest for a heartbeat. “You remember the one?”
“From the box,” she murmurs, wiping the tears from her eyes. “We used to make it with my mom when we were in Maryland. She stopped when we moved here and started buying our cakes from Sweet Temptations instead. But Evan just wanted the one from the two-dollar box of cake mix.”
Evan was one of those guys who loved his birthday.
It didn’t matter how old he was. He wanted the world to know it was his day.
And since he had a giant magnetic personality that drew everyone into his circle, the world always wanted to celebrate with him.
But Evan just wanted it to be us. Ashton, Finn, him, and me.
He didn’t want his other friends. He didn’t want the rest of my family. He didn’t even want the team. Just us.
“Do you remember the year we tried to make it for him?” I ask, remembering every second of that afternoon. The laughter as Ashton, Finn, and I tried so damn hard to bake that cake.
Kyrie yanks on Ashton’s hair, and the beautiful brunette smiles as she kisses the baby’s small fists.
“I remember you and Finn had no idea what you were doing and absolutely refused to listen to me.” Honey-flecked brown eyes catch mine, and a little of the hurt that’s been lingering all day seems to ease.
“I remember you insisting we needed to follow the instructions for high altitude. And I remember us making a mess.”
I wrap one arm around her and Kyrie and run the other over the back of Ashton’s head, pulling her closer, shocked when she lets me.
She doesn’t push away. She doesn’t snap.
She leans into me, and the scent of sweet cherries invades my senses.
“Yeah, but you insisted a little extra icing could fix it.”
“It did fix it,” she reminds me while we both get lost in a memory so vivid, I taste the sickeningly sweet, burned cake on my tongue. “He ate two pieces that night.”
“Yeah, Ace . . .” I rest my chin on the top of her head. It was a good night. “He did.”
“And we lost him four months later . . .” Her voice cracks on the sob I knew was coming.
I hold Ashton and Kyrie while tears rack her body, knowing there’s no way to make this better. Not for her or for me. Not for the people who loved Evan, and we all loved Evan. He was as much a brother to me as Finn or Maverick and Ryker.
“I miss him so much, Jamie. I lost him, then I lost my family. Then I lost you,” she cries softly.
I can’t even deny it because she’s not wrong.
I wasn’t there for her because I was too busy avoiding her.
Not knowing what to say or do to make it better. Not knowing how . . . Just knowing what Evan didn’t want.
“I miss him too, Ace. Fuck. I missed him so much back then, I didn’t know what I was doing.
We were all just kids. None of us knew how to process it,” I admit, thinking back to the conversation I had with Evan the afternoon before he died and all the ways I used that as my excuse to pull away.
Wondering what he’d think of us now. “I’m sorry.
I shouldn’t have pulled away. It wasn’t fair to you. ”
“You didn’t just pull away, Jamie.” She steps out of my hold, and those golden eyes flare with fire. “You broke my heart.”
My heart fucking sinks because I always knew that was why Ashton Carmichael spent over a decade hating me. What she didn’t know . . . what she may never know is that I was just honoring her brother’s wishes. “I know, Ace. I know, and I’m sorry.”
“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Ryker asks as he sits down across from me, eyeing the bottle of whiskey and my empty glass in the dark room. He doesn’t bother signing. His hearing aids are in, and he’s positioned himself to read my lips. “What’s got you drinking by yourself on a Tuesday?”
I drag my hands over my head, unsure whether I can even pinpoint how fucked I feel. “Today’s Evan’s birthday. Was Evan’s birthday.”
Ryker sits still for a minute before he pours another two fingers of whiskey in the crystal tumbler in front of me and drinks it.
Everyone remembers Evan Carmichael, and if you lived in Kroydon Hills, you remember exactly where you were the night he died.
It made national news. Even if it was only us there.
The four of us. Ashton, Finn, Evan, and me.
Man, we spent so much time together in those days. And that one night broke us all.
“Damn. How’s Ashton?” he asks as he puts the crystal down, refills it, and pushes it my way.
I don’t bother answering.
“That bad?”
I swallow the whiskey and revel in the burn.
“Damn,” Ryker hisses. “Where’s Finn?”
“At the hospital.” The words taste like ash in my mouth, and I swirl what’s left of the amber liquid in the glass just to watch it spin. “He’s probably who she wanted.”
“Have you given her another option?” Ryker pushes, and my gut fucking churns.
“Fuck you, Beneventi,” I growl. “Have you ever wanted someone you shouldn’t?”
Ryker pulls the bottle away before I can reach for it. “You’re fucking drunk, Murphy.”
“And you’re not fucking wrong, asshole. Now answer the question.” My words are low and maybe a little slurred. “Wait. Don’t bother. I already know the answer.”
“You do. So how about we talk about you instead of me. Why shouldn’t you want her?
Because from where I’m sitting, it’s pretty simple.
Talk to Finn and then go get the girl. If there’s really a thin line between love and hate, she might as well already be in love with you, she’s spent so much time hating you.
” He screws the cap back on the bottle and keeps it out of reach.
“So tell me, what’s holding you back, Murph? ”
“Evan.” One word. One conversation. The last conversation. The only one that matters.
“Evan’s been gone a long damn time. Are you really going to sit there and tell me he wouldn’t want you and his sister to be happy? He’d rather she kept hating you and you kept pining for her?”
“Pining?” I laugh. “Who the fuck says pining?”
Ryker grabs a discarded pacifier from the kitchen table and throws it at my face, but even drunk, my reflexes are quick enough to dodge it. “Dumbass.”
“The last conversation I had with Evan in the locker room that day . . . I told him I wanted to ask Ashton out.” Fuck, the words are raw even after thirteen years. “He told me no. Said I wasn’t ready for her. Wasn’t good enough yet, and that if I wanted to date his sister, I needed to be better.”
One heartbeat passes, then another, the silence in the room threatening to suffocate me with the memory. Two hours later, he was gone.
“You were a junior in high school, Jamie. You were a kid. She was a freshman. You guys weren’t ready for serious. He was just looking out for both of you.”
I hear what he’s saying.
I’ve played it out in my mind too many times to fucking count.
“Don’t let that conversation stop you—”
“Stop me from what? Fucking his sister? Too late. I already did.” And fuck, I’m an asshole because I wouldn’t change that night. The only damn thing I’d change was the next morning. I wouldn’t let her walk away.
“Don’t be a dick because you’re pissed you’ve wasted years. Go to bed. Sober up. And figure out how to fucking fix it now.” He grabs my glass and the bottle and stands. “You’re better than this, man. Act like it.”
Am I really though?