22. Jensen
22
JENSEN
Who am I kidding? Definitely not myself. I’ll give Maisy Donovan a million shots as long as there’s hope she’ll want all of me one day. But my hope dwindles fast. I’m thirty-two now, no longer a young man with nothing but time. I want to get married, raise a family, and I want those things with only her.
“I cut my breakfast short for this, so it better not last long,” Rock says, strolling into my backyard with Brody on his heels. “And if any of you tell a soul I’m here, I’ll break your bones.”
I point at Brody, who’s wearing board shorts and a tank top as if we aren’t three-hundred-plus miles from the nearest beach. “You brought him. He runs his mouth.”
Rock grunts. “He never runs his mouth about me.”
“My mouth is a vault,” Brody says. “Lots of things come inside, but nothing leaves because I swallow it all down.”
Everyone stops what they’re doing and stares at him with slack jaws. It’s Trevor who speaks for the group. “Sometimes I wonder if there’s a faulty wire between your brain and your mouth.”
Brody shrugs and carries on with his task, and we all follow suit. I get settled in my spot as we form a circle around my fire pit. At Javi’s nod, we close our eyes and let the sounds of sunrise wash over us. Birds chirping. A gentle breeze. The light swish of leaves as branches sway overhead. It’s kind of peaceful without Brody running his mouth. Speaking of mouths…
My tongue swipes across my lips, seeking the phantom taste of Maisy. What I wouldn’t give to watch her fall apart in front of me, because of me. Cutting her off mid-orgasm was a great sacrifice, but she needs to be taught a lesson. I’m not a toy, and this thing between us is not a game.
After a few minutes of quiet meditation, Javi’s soothing tone breaks the silence. “Trevor, what color is your mind?”
“White,” Trevor answers in his monotone.
“And how does it feel?” Javi stretches his words out like he’s singing.
“Soft. Fluffy. Warm,” Trevor replies, his bland voice equally musical somehow.
Brody snickers, and I crack an eye open to find Trevor staring the trees, already bored with this exercise as he plays along.
“And what do you smell?” Javi asks. He’s unaware that we’re on the verge of ruining his concentrated effort to help us find inner peace.
“Salt.” Trevor pauses for effect. “And lard.”
A beat or two passes, and now I’m fighting the urge to laugh.
“Trevor?” Javi asks.
“Hm?”
“Are you describing my abuela’s tortillas?”
Trevor doesn’t break, his tone remaining dead serious. “This is a dream circle. I often dream about Abuelita Rosa’s homemade tortillas.”
Javi sighs heavily in defeat while the rest of us burst into laughter. He says, “If you can’t take this serious?—”
“What the fuck is this?” All heads snap to the gate where Jake stands with an open mouth and big eyes. He takes in the sight of five men sitting cross-legged on rubber mats. “Are y’all doing yoga ?”
“It’s a dream circle,” Javi answers coolly.
Jake plucks his bottom lip and studies each of us, then zeroes in on Rock as his target. “Rock? Buddy? I think I saw the last of your dignity standing on the corner with a ‘will work for nuts’ sign.”
Rock huffs like a red dragon. “Fuck off, Jake. You’re just mad because you weren’t invited.”
“Why would I want to be invited to a hands-free circle jerk?”
“And this is why we didn’t invite you,” Brody says. “You’re judgy.”
“Judgy? Are you a teenage girl now?”
We mumble like-minded opinions about Jake proving our point with that statement.
“It’s not fucking yoga,” Rock insists. “It’s a damn dream circle.”
Jake spreads his arms wide, silently asking, and that makes it better? He waves a finger between Rock and Brody. “I can’t be friends with y’all anymore. This is too much. I have to draw the line somewhere.”
“Who shat in your cereal this morning?” Brody asks.
“Shat?” He throws up his hands and paces. “I’m done. I’m so fucking done.”
Knowing I need to put an end to their nonsense before they start wrestling in my yard, I rise to my feet. “Why are you here, Jake?”
My brother may be an early riser, but last night was his wedding night. He should be getting ready for his honeymoon since he leaves later today. The only reason the rest of us are out here this morning is because Javi’s been begging us to sample his life coaching skills.
Hands on his hips, Jake aims his accusing tone at me. “I came to find out why you disappeared at my wedding. With Maisy .”
The other guys scramble to their feet…everyone except for Javi.
“Nope. I’m out,” Rock declares. “I’ve got a creamy éclair waiting at home.”
Brody waggles his dark golden brows, and Jake’s face twists in faux revulsion.
“You shouldn’t talk about your wife like that, man. It’s disrespectful,” he says.
A flush creeps up Rock’s neck. “I mean the actual pastry, asshole. Don’t mention my wife, or I’ll knock your teeth in.”
Jake smirks. “Please don’t. Tate loves my teeth.”
“Will she like mine?” Brody bares his teeth and dances away before Jake can slap him.
“I’m out of here,” Trevor announces. He tucks his yoga mat under an arm and shakes his head at the three stooges. “Javier, it’s been a dream.” Javi flips him off. “Jenny, come by the house later.”
“Don’t call me Jenny.” I glare at him, and he chuckles as he saunters away.
Brody and Rock stand around like they’re waiting for permission to leave, which Jake grants them.
He quirks a brow at Rock. “Don’t you have something creamy to see to?”
Brody mutters, “I wish,” as he trudges toward the gate with his head hung low.
Once he vanishes, Rock puts aside the jokes and jerks his chin in Brody’s direction. “Any of you know what’s going on with him? He won’t open up to me.”
“No clue, man. He’s different,” Jake says, his concerned gaze fixed on the gate. The three of them may act like dummies, but they care about each other.
“Because of Ainsley.” When they turn to me with questioning looks, I shrug. “We all know he’s interested in her. He follows her around like a puppy.”
The pot and kettle comparison isn’t lost on me. I’m not ashamed to admit I’ll follow Maisy anywhere.
Rock says, “He brought her to our house a while back, but we haven’t seen them together since. I thought he was being nice to the new girl.”
Jake rubs a palm along his stubbled jaw. “What about the other changes, like the haircut and the moodiness? And has anyone seen him with a woman lately?”
“It’s been a minute,” Rock says. The space between his ginger brows cinches in thought. “In fact, I can’t think of the last time?—”
“Bro, you coming?” Brody shouts from the front yard. “You’re my ride, Rocky Road!”
“Shit. I should go.” Rock claps Jake on the back. “To be continued. Later, fellas. And Javi.”
Javi waves with a middle finger. He’s waiting patiently on the sidelines for the Maisy discussion. Part of me wants him here for support in case Jake pressures me to open up about her. Another part wants him to leave so he doesn’t learn how badly she has me spinning out again.
The three of us head inside the house, and I toss each of them a water bottle from the fridge before we settle in the living room. I take the recliner, and Jake sits on the end of the couch nearest to me. With an ankle resting on one knee, he’s relaxed. Unlike me.
“Talk,” I say.
“Explain to me why my brother, my best man, missed his own speech at my wedding because he disappeared with Maisy Donovan. Maisy , Jensen? Why? How long? And again, why?”
I refuse to look at Javi, who’s at the other end of the couch. His brown tunic blends in with the leather, like he’s a fly on the wall. Every ounce of his judgment penetrates my skin, so I keep my inscrutable eyes on Jake.
“We had some issues to work out,” I say.
“Issues.”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me,” he says without breaking eye contact. He enjoys the game of finding out who will look away first.
I sigh, ceding the loss, and rub my temples as I slouch in my chair. “It’s complicated.”
“Bullshit. Try again.” When I don’t respond, he pushes harder. “She’s Logan’s little sister. What would he say about it?”
“First off, Logan isn’t here. Thanks to me.”
Javi grunts in disapproval at my comment.
Jake agrees with him by saying, “Man, don’t give me that crap. Stop blaming yourself for what happened. It may have been your idea to go on that trip, but he was old enough to make his own choices. His death is not your fault, so move along. What’s your second point?”
“Maisy and I were friends. She was more important to me than she ever was to Logan.”
“Friends.” He studies me, his eyes narrowing as he mentally searches through our history. “You never mentioned it. I never saw you together.”
“It was no one’s business. Our relationship was private.”
The rising pitch of his voice conveys his shock. “Relationship? She’s three years younger than you, Jensen. You didn’t?—”
Now I’m pissed, my upper body lunging forward, fingers gripping the arms of my recliner. “Fuck no. You really think I would go there, Jake? Is that the kind of guy you think I am? We were only friends. Good friends. She was my—We were—I couldn’t— Dammit .” I shove a hand in my hair, frustrated because I’m being forced to defend myself and can’t find my goddamn words.
“Hey.” Jake scoots to the edge of the couch and grabs my shoulder. “I’m sorry for even thinking it. I know better than to question your integrity.”
If he only knew how shallow my integrity runs these days.
“I can’t explain it, Jake. I won’t.”
He gives me a reassuring shake. “Fair enough. I’m sorry for pushing. If Maisy’s who you want or, god help us all, who you need, go for it.”
Ignoring his god help us insult aimed at Maisy, and being honest about my plight, I say, “I may not have the chance. She doesn’t plan to stay in Walford.”
“Wish I could tell you how to stop her from leaving, but Maisy does whatever she wants to do.”
“She frustrates the hell out of me sometimes,” I say, sounding like a grown man who’s pouting.
“Look. I don’t understand”—he waves a hand—“whatever it is between you two, mostly because I just learned about it and I’m still processing. But if she means something to you like you say, be relentless. Don’t sulk for ten years like I did.”
Relentless should be my middle name when it comes to Maisy, a thought I keep to myself.
“Thirteen years,” I admit.
“Really?”
“Really.”
He lets out a lighthearted chuckle and mumbles, “Fucking overachiever.”
I suppress my defensive retort, having shown enough weakness for one day. Jake knows a little about my communication struggles and perfectionist tendencies, but he’s not aware of my maddening efforts to maintain self-control. How, at times, those efforts take control of my life.
Instead of snapping at him, I muster a playful tone. “Get out of my house. You have a wife and a honeymoon waiting.”
He slaps his thighs before standing. “Fine, but I expect a full progress report when I get back.”
Rolling my eyes, I say, “Keep dreaming.”
Once he leaves, I meet Javi’s level stare. Resolve sits heavy in his dark eyes as he nods, understanding how far gone I am. At some point, likely in the near future, he’ll be pulling my ass from the tarry pit of despair yet again.
He runs a hand over the top of his head and blows out a long, resigned breath. “You’re fucked.”
My head bobs in agreement. “Yep.”
“Is there anything I can say to change your mind?”
“Nope. She’s the one, Javi. And I won’t lose her again.”