4. Chapter Four
Chapter Four
Paul
The whole drive back, Andre dozes on and off until he finally falls asleep, and I refuse to wake him. We made good time leaving New York, and should be home earlier than I initially thought we’d be.
I glance at Dre, his cheek pressed against the window of my Jeep, mouth half open, drooling on the glass as he softly snores away.
I’m tempted to get him on video because it’s hilarious and you can never have too much blackmail when it comes to your friends, but there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to disturb him.
Not to mention, he hasn't slept much these last couple of months between traveling and trying to figure his shit out. I can only imagine what he’s going through, given how sudden Victoria's death was. Not to mention how young she was… and the fact he was the one who found her.
They’d been married barely six years. They had their whole lives ahead of them…
I know he will figure this out, one way or another.
And of course, I will do whatever I can to help.
He’s my best friend. I pull my attention from him and focus on the road, noting the speed limit is fifty-five and we’re going seventy, so I slow down because the last thing I need is another ticket.
Amelia would chew my ass out, no doubt. Suspending or losing my license isn’t an option, and maybe there’s a part of me that wants to prolong the time because I enjoy Dre’s company.
Maybe his coming home wasn’t under the best circumstances, but I can’t say I’m mad he’s back. It’s closer than he’s been these last eight years.
When I found out that Amelia was pregnant, I told him before we told anyone else.
Or I should say I called his ass freaking out, and he didn’t say a word.
Not until I was done. Then he told me he’d gotten the offer to go to California.
I swear I felt as if the wind was knocked out of me.
Like I was losing everything at once—my freedom, my best friend, the dreams I once had of playing pro football.
We kept in touch, though, because Dre refused to let the length of the country keep us apart.
Sometimes he’d stop by if he was in town for a game, and we’d grab a beer and it’d be like old times.
Those days were the ones I looked forward to the most because when we hung out, I didn’t feel like things sucked.
Just being with Dre, at the bar watching the game, was all I really needed to feel sane and like myself in the middle of all the chaos.
But that feeling disappeared when he left, like he always did, and I’d count the days until our next beer.
The phone rings, and I jump to grab it, switching the ringer off as I curse, not wanting to wake Andre.
He never sleeps well when he stays in hotel rooms. I could sleep like a fucking log just about anywhere, which the guys used to take advantage of back in the day.
I’m pretty sure Mack was the instigator there, given how many times I woke up to shaving cream on my face or Sharpie dicks drawn on me, but I’ll never prove it, though I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy their bullshit. It was all in good fun.
I curse as I see the name on the screen.
Amelia.
I could ignore the call. Send it to voicemail. Deal with it later. But if I do that, I’m likely to hear about it later. So I answer the call, keeping my voice low.
“Dre’s sleeping,” I say, clearing my throat. “Can I call you back later or—”
“Your son has a broken wrist.”
I nearly hit the brakes as my entire body stiffens.
“What?” I snap, my voice kicking up to well over normal tone. “Is he okay? What happened? How did he do that?”
Dre shifts, and I silently curse myself as I try to steady my nerves.
“Calm down, he’s fine,” Amelia says with a sigh. I hear the exhaustion in her voice. I know it well.
Maddox is a fucking handful and then some. Just like I was at that age. I guess karma really is a thing, because of course I’d end up with a kid who’s going to put me in an early grave.
“You said he broke his wrist.” I try to keep my voice low. “How the fuck did he—”
“Showing off at the track. He said you taught him a new trick on the bike…”
I sigh in defeat. Maddox’s favorite thing in the whole world is BMX and giving his mother and I a heart attack.
He’s been riding since he was four, so it’s not like he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing.
But that’s where Amelia and I don’t see eye to eye.
She thinks he’s too young to get into competitions, and I feel like if we put him in competitions, it’ll be the best thing for him because maybe then he can utilize all that chaotic energy and put it towards something more constructive.
Other than driving both of us crazy. He needs an outlet.
Especially now. It’s only going to get worse the older he gets. I know that from experience.
Which is why I told him I’d show him how to do an X-up if he passed his spelling test, which he did.
Of course, I told him not to do it without me present. Even told him it could be something we could work on together so we could brush up his skills and get him ready for some beginner competitions. Made him pinky swear not to tell his mother until we’d worked out all the kinks.
“Yeah, I showed him, Amelia. As in I demonstrated it and explained all the safety shit and told him not to do it without me there to watch him and make sure he’s doing the right things.”
There’s a tense silence between us as the guilt seeps into me, and she knows it.
“He said he did it because he wanted to impress the other kids at the track,” she says softly. “Thought maybe if they saw how good he was, they’d want to be his friend.”
My heart plummets at her words. Things haven’t been easy this last year; hell, they haven’t been easy since I moved out of the house two years ago. Then adding the school stuff…
Maddox is trying. I just wish there was something I could do to help. Really help…
“Those other kids are idiots,” I say. Amelia lets out a soft laugh. “Maddox is way better than them.”
There’s a pause as I let out a sigh, glancing at Dre who looks to have settled.
“I’m sure the cast will really impress them,” she says. I hear the humor in her voice. “And if it doesn’t, I’m sure he’ll tell everyone in great detail all about how tough it is.”
The tension fades, and I breathe a little easier.
“You and Andre have fun?” she asks, her tone back to her sweet, casual self.
I nod as I glance at Dre, who shifts a bit, closing his mouth as he lets out a sleepy grunt. The setting sun pours through the window, lighting him up in shades of gold and orange, illuminating his sharp jaw and faint shadow of stubble.
“Yeah,” I say, my voice cracking just a bit. I don’t know why I feel so weird; like I am about to cry or some shit. Maybe I’m just frustrated with my son.
Or maybe I’m just frustrated with life in general.
“How far away are you?” she asks.
“Bout two hours,” I breathe out, the anxiety and panic lessening now that I know he’s okay.
I mean, he’s got a broken wrist, and I’ll have to talk to him—again—about the importance of safety and not putting himself or others at risk just to look cool.
Which I will do, after I tell him I’m proud of him for pulling off a fucking X-up at eight years old!
That’s my boy.
“You want me to keep him an extra night?” she asks nonchalantly, like it’s no big deal. And maybe it isn’t. Amelia and I both agreed we wouldn’t become those divorced parents; the ones who hate each other and cause problems for everyone else because of it.
I know if I said yes, she wouldn’t have a problem with it. But after three days away from my kid, the last thing I want is to come home to an empty house.
“No. I’ll get him. I’ll be home around nine-thirty. Will swing by your place to get him on the way to Dre’s.”
“Okay. Sounds good.”
I let her go and settle my phone in the cupholder, feeling equal parts excited and guilty.
Exhaustion sinks into my limbs, and I yawn, just as I feel a hand on my arm. I don’t jump or startle; if anything, I relax a little, knowing the familiar, warm touch.
“I’ll take over,” Dre says, his voice still a little groggy from his nap.
“No, it’s fine, I—”
“That wasn’t a question, Paul,” he says sternly, and I sigh, knowing it’s best not to argue with him when he’s got that tone.
“Fine,” I grumble as I turn on my signal and get off at the exit, pulling into the nearest parking lot.
Wordlessly, I get out and stretch my legs as Dre does the same; stretching his arms above his head.
His shirt rides up just enough to show off his hips and his defined muscles.
I move around him, heading for the passenger side.
I get in, buckle up, and get comfortable.
The seat is warm from his body, and it relaxes me like a cozy fire.
The door shuts, and a moment later, the Jeep starts back up, and I steal a glance at Dre; his dark hair is messy, but also kind of cute.
He looks like a leading man in a rom-com, and I can’t help but grin.
“What?” he asks, putting the car in gear and heading back out on the road to the exit on the highway.
“Your hair is a mess,” I say, my eyes getting heavy.
Dre smirks, running a hand through it.
“Fuck you.”
I chuckle as I close my eyes.
“We need to swing by Amelia’s before your place. Gotta get—”
“Maddox. I know,” he says. I feel his warm palm on my thigh, and it’s like every muscle in my body turns to Jell-O. “I’ll wake you before we get there.”
And as Andre squeezes my thigh, his palm warm and comforting beyond measure, I don’t fight the darkness as it pulls me under.