44. THE ONE WHERE JOEY DOESN’T SHARE
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
THE ONE WHERE JOEY DOESN’T SHARE
HerFavoriteSyn commented: If only she was around to celebrate like last year Happy bday!
WestParkerComedy: Happy birthday to the head witch herself! My life is a HEX of a lot hotter with you in it
HexedHeroine: Well, in case you haven’t heard, it’s my birthday…
I feel thirty-two this morning when Kell and West dog pile me at 9:00 a.m. with Frankie on FaceTime, singing some over-the-top rendition of Happy Birthday.
Pulling the covers over my head is only going to buy me a couple seconds, but I’ll take it, since an overzealous twenty-five-year-old kept me up until the birds started to chirp. I should be used to functioning on little to no sleep by now!
We’re officially under two weeks until the end of the tour, and I booked a red eye flight to the Sullivan’s Thanksgiving morning.
West hasn’t brought up the end of tour again, and he hasn’t started treating me any differently either. He’s still the same goofy and sweet West I’ve come to worry I’ll never be the same without.
He yanks the comforter from over my face. “We made FrankieCakes,” West whispers in my ear, crushing me under his weight while passing me his phone.
I squint at the bright light shining through the open blinds to find Frankie sporting a fresh cut bob skimming the top of her shoulders with wispy curtain bangs and a gloss to make her natural copper shine.
“I walked them through it, JoJo, but I don’t know how good they’re gonna be.
” She doesn’t address her hair, and neither do I—every girl needs a hair change after a breakup. It’s a good sign she’s moving on!
West crawls off me, staying close on the bed while Kell climbs into frame. “Hey, Enzo is a great cook! They’re gonna be better, I bet. We’ll have to rename them EnzoCakes.”
Frankie sticks her tongue out, and I can smell breakfast now that I’m coming to.
Sitting up with a yawn, West’s eyes dart to my chest. I don’t bother looking down, because I know he’s staring at my nipples poking through my shirt.
We catch eyes, and his smile confirms exactly that.
I shift my focus to Frankie, watching her plop down on her couch. “Okay, so listen to this. Remember that band Syn was playing in a couple years ago with the drummer from Canada?”
I hum, smiling to myself softly. “How could I forget?” That’s how I was introduced to the blonde guitarist with the best set of tits I’ve ever seen in my life—I’m pretty sure West and I have similar taste in women… Which doesn’t explain his attraction to me.
Frankie groans. West stiffens. Kell decides it’s time to leave the room.
“And on that note, I’m gonna go help Enzo.
Food’s ready in twenty.” He leaves the room, his head popping back through the doorway.
“Oh, and Jo?” He smiles, looks down at my chest, then back up to my eyes.
I freeze, caught off guard, but before I snap, he mouths, nice shirt, and disappears again.
Naturally, I look down, catching a quick glimpse of West’s I Heart Cougars cut off.
Frankie hasn’t noticed, or she would have already said something. I tilt the phone up and shoot daggers at West.
“Back to Syn…” he offers, grinning like a fucking idiot at my realization he hadn’t just been staring at my nipples.
“Stop hooking up with my girl friends,” Frankie sneers.
I smirk, playing along. “Stop being friends with hot blondes who have nice tits.” As much fun as I’ve had on and off with Syn since the breakup with Dylan, I don’t have any interest in fucking her anymore…
West pretends to wipe drool off his lip. “We can be friends with Syn if you want.”
Frankie wraps up the call by telling me she’s going to have lunch with her. Apparently, the drummer knows a bassist looking to form a band, and he asked Syn if she knew of any vocalists who might be a good fit.
Frankie was her only recommendation.
“Love you so much. I’ll let you know how it goes later!” She hangs up, and I feel a sweep of sadness brush over me. I haven’t spent a birthday without her since we were seven.
West hops off the bed, distracting me as he wanders into the attached bathroom and turns on the shower.
He comes back and leans towards me on one knee, his other leg staying on the floor.
“Sorry, I wouldn’t have gone along with Kell’s dogpile suggestion if I thought you’d still be in this.
” He tugs at his shirt, and the dimpled smile he wears doesn’t look like he’s sorry at all.
I’d barely made it out of his bed without falling asleep last night, and his shirt was the last thing I was worried about when I finally got back to my room.
I’ve done almost everything I told myself I wouldn’t when it’s come to him. That’s why I can’t let go of the last two rules I’ve put in place for us.
I wasn’t going to go to his show.
I wasn’t going to see him again.
I wasn’t going to sleep with him again.
I wasn’t going to fall for him… I haven’t checked it off my list yet, fighting with the piece of me who I’m not sure will ever believe I deserve someone who looks at me the way West is right now—the way he always does.
The last two rules left to break are the worst of them all: no sleepovers, and this is over when tour ends.
“Take a shower, come eat, and then you have about”—he looks at the clock on the wall—“an hour to get ready.”
I raise a brow. “To go where?”
West taps me on the chin with his thumb, drawing my face up to his.
My stomach flips from his undivided attention.
“On birthday adventures.” He glances to my lips, licking his before returning his eyes to mine.
I’m about to lean in and kiss him, when he says, “I’m not telling you anything, so don’t bother. ”
As much as I want to argue, I don’t, but I do decide to answer West’s burning question from our night in Salem. “It wouldn’t do us any good…”
He pauses on his way off the bed, confused and waiting.
I giggle softly. “Meeting Syn.” West cocks his head, and I crack a smile. “I don’t like to share, Hotshot.”
It clicks immediately, his eyes growing wide and lips parting. “Mara too?”
My smile is answer enough, but I slide off the bed, my arm brushing his as I walk to the bathroom in nothing but his cropped shirt that doesn’t cover my ass. When I turn and lean against the door frame, West is sitting on the edge of the bed staring.
“What can I say? We have similar taste in women.” I wink, and close the door, but don’t miss West falling back on the bed like I landed a killshot.
I’m sure West has had his fair share of threesomes, and I’ve had a few too, but I’m not keen on sharing my attention in the bedroom—especially not West’s.
It might be a hot fantasy, but West wouldn’t be able to handle not being the one to make me come, and I don’t think I want anyone else to try anyway.
When breakfast’s over, I send Frankie a text with the pancake emoji and the redheaded queen before I throw on a simple face of makeup and fluff the hair I didn’t wash in the shower. Nothing a brush, curling iron, and dry shampoo can’t fix!
By the time she responds, I’m too distracted by my first birthday adventure to notice.
West booked a blacksmithing class where we make mini swords, and when he puts his protective goggles on, I snap a few pictures, promising not to share them anywhere.
I immediately post it to my story with small words hidden by his shoulder.
HexedHeroine posted a story: How to obtain a Hex like @WestParkerComedy Take them to a blacksmith & make (prop) swords as a bday surprise
West shares it to his story, our notifications blowing up the rest of the afternoon.
We stop at a cafe for a snack and a coffee next, and at this point, I’ve stopped asking him what comes next, knowing he won’t tell me. I’ve never been more along-for-the-ride in my life.
He opens my door when we’re back at the rental he got for the weekend. Before I can remind him I’m completely capable of opening my own door… again, he says, “Just shut up and get in.”
I glare at him through the Jeep’s windshield, but his smile is playful, and there’s a cheerful bounce in his step as he hops in the driver’s seat. He plugs in the directions to our next stop on his phone, hiding it from me.
When we get on the highway, his phone buzzes, and he answers it on speaker after the first ring. “Hey, Mom. Say happy birthday to Joey!”
I freeze, looking at him like he’s crazy.
“Oh my god, am I on speaker?” Her voice is calm and soothing, but there’s real excitement behind it. “Happy birthday! Benny, come say happy birthday to Jo!”
I slap West on the arm as his dad joins in. “Happy birthday, and hello West.” His voice is really deep, and even though he’s not as talkative as his wife, I can hear the love behind the greeting to his son.
We chat for a few minutes before West tells them he needs to pay attention to where he’s going.
“Yes, please do.” I can hear the smile on her face. “Love you. I’ll see you soon. Jo, we’re very excited to meet you. West has told us—”
West clears his throat. “K mom, gotta go. Need the GPS. Love you.” He hangs up, glances at his maps, and then keeps his eyes on the road.
I stare at the side of his face, admiring his sharp jawline and handsome side profile with a smile on mine that makes me feel warm all over.
When West finally glances over, I tell him something I’ve never told anyone.
Not even Frankie. “When I met Dylan’s mom for the first time, she thought I was his math tutor.
I’m not sure why she thought her son was bringing his math tutor to his end-of-season banquet, but he didn’t tell her we were dating for another two years after we’d already moved in together.
She never even remembered meeting a math tutor. ”
West doesn’t say anything right away, his jaw clenching as he stares at the open highway ahead.
Eventually, he asks a question I’m sure feels safest to him.
“What sport did he play?” As cool and composed as he’s being, I know it’s for my sake.
There’s no doubt in my mind West would absolutely whoop Dylan’s ass—and win—if given the chance.
“He swam for Harvard.” I make the conscious decision not to tell West about his active spot on Team USA.
He puffs a cocky laugh. “I bet he sucked.” I scrunch my nose, and he catches the look before I’m aware I’m doing it. “Why’d you do that?”
He’s going to fucking hate this. I sigh. “He’s a two-time Olympic gold medalist.”
West grips the steering wheel tighter. “Oh, okay, great, so I’m the second-best athlete you’ve ever slept with.” He says it like a joke, but I know he really means it. “And I can’t even say I’m smarter than him, can I? Because I bet you’re going to say he’s got a medical degree from Harvard next.”
Damn… Nailed it.
Whatever look I give this time makes him groan, popping his head on the headrest. “At least lie and tell me I’m funnier. Please, I’m begging.”
I hum a quiet laugh. “Dude doesn’t have a funny bone in his body, and he’s an awful fucking person, West.” It doesn’t hurt when I say it anymore, which is new.
“He never cared to make me smile, let alone laugh. He never once stayed up with me, or even attempted to when I worked late. He stopped asking about my past because he said it made him uncomfortable.” I think he stayed around for as long as he did because he liked how kinky I was.
Funny that’s one of the reasons he left…
Because he couldn’t imagine having children with a woman who would let him do those things to her.
“Then when he made me hate myself more than I’d ever hated anyone else, he left. ”
I think his jaw might shatter before he speaks again. “Joey, I’m so sorry.” West apologizes for a man who will never say those words himself. He pulls off an exit, meeting my eyes while we wait for the light to turn green.
“It’s okay, he might be an Olympian with two gold medals and a medical degree from Harvard, but do you know what else he has?” I ask.
“I’m afraid to hear…” West grumbles.
The light turns green, but there’s no one behind us and he doesn’t go.
I smile mischievously. “A small dick.”