Chapter Six #2
All my worries and anxieties flee in the wake of his kiss. He devours me with his mouth, licking, tasting, owning, and possessing, before letting me up for air.
“Better than breakfast,” he says, setting me on my feet but holding on until I catch my breath.
I blink, still somewhat dazed.
“Just needed a taste,” he explains, gesturing toward the door. “Ready?”
I manage a nod. He picks up a birthday present off the counter, and off we go.
Much later, after I loaded my van, to Jason’s complaining about how it is an old piece of shit and he wishes I drove something safer, we arrive at his cousin Gabe and Izzy’s apartment.
It takes us three trips to carefully carry everything upstairs.
Kelsey is running the shop, so Jason helps, this time listening to me grumbling about how it’s my job and I can do it myself.
We arrive with the last of my goodies when Izzy greets us at the door, kissing Jason on the cheek and pulling me inside. “Come. Let’s set up so we can have fun.”
Izzy’s warm nature and constant laughter are contagious. As we ready the small wood boxes with s’mores pops inside on the table set aside by the front door so guests can take their gift when they leave, Izzy touches a box and sighs. “I just love these.”
“I picked up light blue ones so it fit a boy’s party,” I explain.
“Thank you. They look so enticing sitting here. So? Aren’t you going to leave your business cards, too? I’m sure you want people to hire you for similar parties.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “Of course I do, but I didn’t want to take advantage. I assumed if you were happy, you would spread the word.”
Izzy grins. “You bet I will. But leave your cards, too.” She nudges me gently with her elbow, so I dig through my purse and fan my Sweet Treats cards out on the table beside the party favors.
With a satisfied nod, Izzy leads me back into the main area of the apartment. “Everyone will be here soon. I have to confess I went a little overboard. There are caterers in the kitchen. But at this age, the kids still come with their parents and I wanted everyone to have good food.”
I like the bubbly blonde. I glance across the room to where Jason stands talking with a tall man with sable hair and dark blue eyes. He has a dominating presence, commanding the room.
“That’s my husband, Gabe,” Izzy says, following my line of sight. “Come meet him.” She takes my hand and pulls me across the floor to where the men stand.
After introductions are made, Jason takes me off guard by wrapping an arm around me and pulling me against him. “Gabe recommended the private investigator who’s looking into your brother,” he says quietly.
I nod, hating the reminder. Although I’m living at Jason’s, I try my best not to focus on Colton when I can help it.
“Renault is the best,” Gabe says in a soothing tone. “He’s also a bodyguard if you need one. It might take time, but he’ll locate your sibling.” Before we can say more, the doorbell rings at the same time as Noah walks into the room, rubbing his eyes.
“Hey, buddy!” Gabe strides over to his son, kneels down, and lifts the little boy into his arms. “It’s time for your party.”
“Party, yay!” He wriggles to get down just as friends walk into the room and the birthday party begins.
Suddenly we’re surrounded by children, and Jason grabs my hand, pulling me to the side. Parents divide off into groups who know each other, while Gabe keeps a close eye on his son and Izzy flits from person to person, making sure everyone is happy.
The doorbell rings, and a life-size costumed Dalmatian with a red vest and firefighter hat on his head enters the apartment.
He stumbles into the room and the kids yell and laugh.
“I’m good!” he says as he is surrounded by children.
“Marshall from PAW Patrol,” Gabe says, followed by, “I need a drink.”
Jason laughs. “I bet you never thought this would be your life,” he says to his cousin.
Gabe glares at him. “You have no idea. But … I wouldn’t trade it for the world,” he says, his voice softening along with his expression as his gaze goes from his wife to his little boy, who is sitting on the Dalmatian’s lap.
“I’m going to take pictures,” Gabe says. He walks over to Izzy, pulls her away from her friends, and wraps an arm around her while they watch their son interacting with the other kids.
I sigh, viewing them, a feeling of longing tugging in my chest.
“What are you thinking?” Jason asks.
I bite the inside of my cheek, uncertain if I want to answer with the truth.
“Do you want kids?” he asks before I can answer, upping the stakes with his question to me.
I hesitate before answering. “Not with my life the way it is now, no. Not with a threat looming over me and while I’m still building my business. But someday? Yes. I do.” I look over at him and toss the hot potato in his lap. “Do you?”
* * *
Jason
I know I made a mistake the minute I ask Faith if she wants kids.
I initially meant it as an innocuous question because we are surrounded by children, but as soon as it comes out of my mouth, I realize how deep the question is.
Her long pause gives my stomach time to twist and turn.
And though she has every right to turn the question around on me, she isn’t going to like my answer.
“I don’t … like loss.”
She narrows her gaze, confusion obvious on her face. “But kids don’t mean loss.”
“Kids mean more people to worry about in my life and that scares me.” My heart picks up a rapid beat in my chest, thoughts of Levi taking over, as they always do when I consider a serious future. Which is why I rarely let myself go there.
I glance at Faith. “Come on.”
“Where?”
“Someplace we can talk. We came, we saw, we brought gifts and favors… Izzy and Gabe will understand.” As if sensing we’re talking about him, Gabe glances over.
I gesture to the door, and Gabe nods, his expression one of understanding. Grasping Faith’s hand, I weave through the crowds of people, and we grab our coats and slip out the door. If I’m going to have this necessary conversation, I’m going to do it in a place that matters.
“Where are we going?” Faith asks, rushing to keep up with my long strides. I can’t help it. Thinking about retelling this story makes me antsy and anxious and I need to move.
“You’ll see. Just bear with me.”
With traffic, it takes me thirty minutes to cross town and head up toward the place my brothers and I met. I pull onto the city street that houses Manhattan University, where I went to school, and park in a nearby lot.
“Is this where you, Tanner, Landon, and Levi went to college?” Faith asks after I hand the attendant my keys and we start walking up the ramp toward the street.
“What do you know about Levi?” I ask gruffly.
“The night I first met you, I Googled the nightclub and found the website. I read the dedication,” she says, her voice soft and full of understanding.
I swallow over the lump in my throat but remain silent.
We walk down the sidewalk and head along the street known as Fraternity Row and come to a stop at a brownstone with steps leading to the front door.
The fraternity located here now is a new one, not the one my friends and I pledged, but the building is the same, just as the memories remain.
“What happened here?” Faith asks, her hand clasping mine.
The bite of the cold wind nips at my face, but I am here to feel the sensation. Levi isn’t. So I stay here, as I begin to tell Faith the story.
“I met the guys in the dorm. We lived on the same hall and we clicked immediately. The four of us hung out and did everything together. We started school in late August, and of all the guys, I was closest to Levi. We had the same major, business, were in the same classes. He switched to room with me because he wanted a break from his twin.” I chuckle at the memory.
The guys started as roommates, and things quickly devolved until Levi wanted out.
“You must get close living together. I went to a local school, so I wouldn’t know. I can only guess,” she says.
I nod. “It’s intense.” I lean against the banister leading up the stairs, and Faith stands beside me. “But it was good until Levi wanted to join a fraternity.”
“You didn’t?”
I shrug. “I wasn’t much of a joiner. I liked doing my own thing. But Levi was persistent. He said the social life would be better, the girls hotter.”
“As if any of you had a hard time getting women.” Faith’s expression is priceless. Shock mixed with disbelief and a healthy dose of sarcasm in her tone.
“Hey. Freshman guys do not get the girls. Trust me.”
“If you say so.” She lifts one foot, bracing it on a higher step. But she doesn’t push me for more serious conversation.
Still, I know it’s time. “All the frats had strict rules about alcohol because the drinking age was twenty-one and hazing was strictly forbidden both by school rules and the national fraternity. But why follow the rules, right?” I ask with disgust and obvious pain in my voice.
I don’t even bother to hide it from her nor do I consider it a weakness. No, this event is what defined me and the kind of life I live. I’m not embarrassed about hurting because I lost my best friend to a stupid, juvenile practice performed by self-righteous, entitled assholes.
Beside me, Faith freezes. “Hazing?” She obviously hasn’t considered how Levi died, because she sounds horrified as realization dawns.
“Hazing. A secret practice carried out by older classmen in the basement of this house.” I gesture with a sweep of my hand toward the building behind them.
“Good old-fashioned kissing ass of seniors, doing their bidding, paddling, eating disgusting things I’ll spare you from hearing about, and forced alcohol consumption.
” I clench my jaw at the memories I do my best to keep far away from my present reality.