Second Chance Boyfriend
Page 12

“You got a tattoo. With my initials on your foot.” Drew shakes his head, his expression incredulous. “Why didn’t you tell me? Show me?”
I shrug, not willing to have this conversation in front of my brother. “It’s silly.”
“It’s definitely not silly.” He rushes toward me and takes my hands, his gaze dropping to my feet. I notice his jaw is red, it looks a little swollen, and I can’t believe my brother hit him so hard. The element of surprise had definitely been in Owen’s favor. “I love it.”
“Your tattoo has so much more meaning,” I whisper as he draws me into his arms right in front of my brother. I can feel Owen’s glare boring into our backs but I ignore it. “You wrote a poem for me, Drew.”
“And you put my initials forever on your foot, Fable. I think we’re both on the same wavelength here or something.”
I hug him close and laugh, because I don’t know how else to react. Owen clears his throat, reminding me he’s why I’m here in the first place, and I pull away from Drew, offering him a reassuring smile. “Maybe we should talk later tonight? After I get off work?”
“Yeah.” Drew smiles, his blue eyes glowing. “That sounds good. Want me to pick you up?”
“Yes, that sounds perfect.” He leans in and kisses me again as if he can’t help it. “I’m off at eight.”
“You have a ride to work?”
“I can figure something out.” I smile and he walks away, glancing at me over his shoulder one last time before he heads down the stairs and toward his truck.
“What in the hell was that?” Owen asks when I drag him into our apartment and shut the door.
“What are you talking about?” I stick my hands in the front pocket of the sweatshirt and breathe deep, inhaling Drew’s scent. God, he smells good. I might never want to give this sweatshirt back again. Might never want to wash it again either.
Gross but true.
“You’re seeing Drew Callahan? He’s your boyfriend?” Owen’s eyes are wide. “This is crazy shit, Fabes. He’s a total superstar. Like, a college legend. And you’re with him?”
I shrug. “I’m not quite sure how to define what’s going on between us, but yeah. I’m with him. I guess.”
“Holy hell.” Owen starts to laugh. “I need to tell my friends. Wade is going to shit a brick! Does Mom know?”
“No, no one knows. I don’t want anyone to know yet.” I want to hold Drew close and keep him my little secret for a few more days. Once people start to figure out we’re actually a couple, things might get a little weird.
“Why the hell not? He’s awesome!” Owen scowls, as if remembering my misery. “Well, not really considering how he must’ve hurt you pretty bad to make you so mopey. I’ve never seen you like that. What happened between you two?”
“It’s too hard to explain.” I wave a hand, dismissing my past with Drew. Like I’m going to tell my brother any details. “Besides, let’s talk about the fact that you punched him. What the hell where you thinking?”
“That was amazing. My hand still f**king hurts. Sorry.” I smack him on the head before he ducks out of my reach. “I can’t believe I actually threw a punch at Drew freaking Callahan and he didn’t knock me out for it.”
“I think he was too startled by the fact a little kid tried to kick his ass,” I said wryly.
Owen shakes his head. “I’m not a little kid anymore, Fabes. When are you going to realize that?”
I roll my eyes but refrain from making a remark. Let him think fourteen is all grown up. He’ll know the truth someday. “I’m starved. Still want to go to breakfast?”
“Yeah, sure. But how are we going to get there? We don’t have wheels. Should’ve kept your boyfriend around and made him drive us there.”
“We can walk to that little diner down the street. It’s not too far,” I suggest. I need to talk to my brother alone, not with Drew as a witness. I’m eager to have him back in my life but I need to ease him into the chaos that is my immediate family.
Drew
Ever been on a complete and total high, only to have it come crashing down within a matter of minutes?
Yeah. Me too.
All morning I’ve felt amazing. Like I’m walking ten feet off the ground. Even getting punched by Fable’s brother doesn’t faze me, though my jaw still aches. The kid is packing some strength, I’ll give him that.
I head back to my apartment and crash out, my face buried in the pillow Fable used last night. I can smell her, her scent fills my head and I want her. Bad.
She has a life, though. A job she needs to go to, a brother she needs to take care of. I understand, I get it. I’m just damn thankful she’s allowed me back into her life and is giving me the opportunity to make up for all the stupid shit I did to hurt her.
I drift off to sleep with her scent surrounding me, her face in my thoughts. I wake up to my cell phone ringing and I’m hopeful it’s her but it’s not.
It’s my dad.
Great.
“What’s up?” I try to infuse some cheeriness into my voice but I’m afraid it sounds false. I saw him only yesterday morning. What happened that he needs to call me within twenty-four hours of leaving me?
“I had a long talk with Adele last night,” he says, his voice grim.
My stomach lurches. Just hearing her name makes me sick. “Yeah?” God, what could she have said? What did she tell him?
“I’m reconsidering the divorce proceedings.”
Damn. Just when I thought we could have her out of our lives for good. “Why?”
“She swears she’s never been unfaithful to me. It’s all a bunch of vicious rumors spread by some women at the country club who hate her.” Dad pauses, takes a deep breath. “Should I believe her?”
“That’s not for me to tell you,” I automatically say because hell, no. I’m not playing any part in his decision.
Besides, I know she hasn’t been faithful to him—from personal experience.
God, I feel like I’m going to throw up.
“She’s messing with my head. She called me when I was driving back from seeing you and when I told her where I’d been, she freaked out. Demanded that I come and see her right away. So I went home and she…attacked me.”
I close my eyes, wishing he would shut up.
“She was crazed. Like she couldn’t get enough of me. I know you don’t want to hear it, but it was the best sex we’ve had in…years. I don’t get it. I don’t get her.”
“She’s using sex to keep you with her, Dad.” My voice is tight and I feel completely strung out. I hate hearing all of these details. Worse? I hate hearing that she attacked him after she knew he’d spent time with me.
What did that mean? I can only assume that maybe she thought of me when…
Fuck. I can’t finish the thought.
“She probably is,” Dad readily agrees. “But if she keeps it up, I might not be ready to let her go yet.”
He’s an idiot. I want to tell him that, but I keep my mouth shut. Their problems are none of my business. “I guess that’s up to you,” is all I say in response.
“Listen. We talked a lot last night, Adele and I. She wants you to come home for the summer. She says she misses you and wishes you were around more. And I agree. Could you consider it? For us?”
That would be a mighty hell no, but I’m not going to be a dick to my dad now. He’s still too fragile over this whole should-I-divorce-or-not deal with Adele. And look at her, trying to worm her way back into my life. Trying to get me to go back there. Does she think I’m an idiot? “I gotta go, Dad. Call me if you need to talk again.”
“Tell me you’ll at least consider it, son. Adele misses you and loves you so much. Ever since we lost Vanessa, she hasn’t been the same. You know this. You could bring some happiness back into her life.”
“See ya, Dad.” I hang up before he can say anything else. I don’t think I could stand it.
My appetite gone, my nerves shot, I pace around my apartment, completely on edge. I throw on some shoes and try and go for a run but all I can think about is my dad staying with Adele. Of her trying to convince me to go back home and spend the summer with them. I can’t go back there. Thanksgiving had been bad enough. I still haven’t fully accepted what she told me. It’s hard for me to wrap my brain around her revelation.
Could my little sister really have been my…daughter?
Panic fills me and I stop running, glancing around as I stand in the middle of the sidewalk. Wishing like hell I had someone to talk to. Anyone.
Fable.
But she’s at work. It’s late afternoon and her shift started at three or four. Hell, I can’t remember. I can’t waltz back into her life and lay the heavy shit on her anyway. I wish like hell it wasn’t a Sunday or I’d call Dr. Harris…
Deciding to hell with it, I yank my phone out of my sweats pocket and dial her number. She answers on the third ring.
“I’m surprised to hear from you on a Sunday,” is how she greets me. “Are you all right?”
“Not really,” I admit, thankful she doesn’t berate me for contacting her on her day off. “My dad called.”
“Hmm. That doesn’t sound good. Lucky you, I’m in the mood for a coffee. Want to meet for one in, say, twenty minutes?”
Relief floods me. How did I get so lucky to find Dr. Harris in the first place? Maybe this isn’t commonplace, her meeting a patient for coffee on a Sunday afternoon, but I need to get all this bullshit off my chest. Not just the bad stuff that happened with my dad, but also my night and morning with Fable. “I’ll be there,” I tell her after she rattles off an address of a nearby Starbucks.
* * * *
“So how do you feel about what your dad said?”
I take a drink of my iced coffee. “I’d rather he divorce her. I want her out of my life for good.”
“I thought Adele was already out of your life.” Doc looks at me in that certain way she has. The one that reminds me I’m an adult and I’m the one in charge of what happens to me.
“She is. But I want her out of my dad’s life too. As long as she’s still married to him, she’s a barrier between us. One I don’t want to cross,” I say with a finality I desperately want to believe in.
“That’s you’re decision to make and one you’re allowed to have. You know it will hurt your father if you cut him off completely without an explanation.” She sips from her straw, her expression one of utter contentment, but I know what she’s trying to do.
“No way am I telling him what happened between Adele and me. He’ll hate me for it.” I shake my head.
“He shouldn’t. You’re his son. You were a child when it started. You were a child when you put a stop to it. She was in the wrong. Don’t you think he’ll see that?” she asked, her voice soft.
I have no idea. I’m too scared to take that chance. “He’ll see what he wants to see. He’ll believe what he wants.”
“Do you really have that little of faith in your dad?”
Ouch. I never thought of it like that before. “It’s not that I don’t have faith in him. It’s just…she knows how to twist everything up. She’s a master manipulator and she’s been playing the both of us for years.”
“You give her too much power. She knows it and she revels in it,” Dr. Harris points out.
I shrug. “Maybe I do. It’s easier to avoid her rather than face the truth.”
“You know how I feel about you constantly running away from your problems. It’s not healthy. And they always catch up to you sooner or later.” She takes another sip of her drink and then pushes the cup aside so she can rest her arms on the edge of the table. “Enough focusing on the bad. Let’s talk about the good. Let’s talk about Fable.”
Just like that, I’m smiling as I study my cup, running my finger through the condensation that’s formed there. “I already told you I was with her last night.”
“Have you two talked much?”
“I said I was sorry.”
“For what?”
“Ditching her.” I meet Doc’s gaze from across the tiny table. The Starbucks is emptying out, it’s already near six. Most people are home fixing dinner or whatever. “We need to talk more.”
“Wouldn’t you want to make sure that you do? Are you going to explain to her why you ran away? It seems that she’s good for you,” Dr. Harris says with a slight smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so happy.”
My smile grows. “She is good for me. I’m in love with her.” Saying the words out loud makes them that much more real. And scary.
“Have you told her that?”
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“What if she doesn’t love me back?” My absolute biggest fear is I lay it all out on the line for Fable and she doesn’t feel the same. Or worse, she laughs at me.
Though I know deep down inside she would never do that. I also know, deep down inside, that she probably feels the same way about me that I feel about her.
It’s easy to write the words I love you, to compose poems about her, declaring my undying love for her with a bunch of flowery sentences. It’s another thing entirely making that declaration to her face. Scary enough just saying the words out loud to my shrink.