The look on Mav’s face says everything he isn’t.
The way only a best fucking friend can.
“I’m not having this conversation with you. Not now. Not until I’ve talked to her. I love you like a brother, man, but I’m not you. I don’t need to be pushed to make a move. The move’s been made. The decision has been made.”
I don’t need the shove he needed.
I’m not the one with the trust issues he had. But I’m pretty sure that woman up there has trust issues big enough they make Mav’s look like a walk in the park. And I’m not going to earn her trust by talking to him and not her.
“I’ll let you know what’s going on when I’m ready.” I smack his stomach and lift my chin. “Have fun in the Caribbean. Try not to get soft while you’re there.”
“Damn, Jamie. I’m not sure when you turned into the mature one of us, but good for you. Don’t waste time like I did. Don’t push her away. We both know life’s too damn short for that shit.”
Yeah . . . Yeah, we do.
“Kiss my girls for me.” I duck the second the words are out of my mouth.
Yup. Still faster.
“Mygirls, Murphy. Go fucking get your own.”
“Yeah,” I yell over my shoulder as I head for the house. “I’m working on it.”
For my girls.
For Ashton and Kyrie.
Yeah . . . I’m working on it.
Thirty minutes later, I’m showered, shaved, and a man on a mission.
One that’s fucking with my head a little more than I’d like.
My entire life, I’ve been the easygoing friend. I’m a lot like my dad in that way. At least that’s what our family has always said, even if they were bitching about it half the time.
Fucking sue me.I’d rather be happy than miserable. I never saw the reasoning behind being the broody asshole. Maverick and a few of the others were better at that than I was anyway.
But it’s bitten me in the fucking ass too.
The amount of times I’ve been underestimated because I’m not the brooding dick—because I’d rather fucking smile—yeah, it’s too high to count.
In almost thirty years, letting everyone assume I wasn’t serious about anything has only ever bothered me once.
Most of the time, I’d rather someone underestimate me. Dumb fucks don’t realize they’re giving me the upper hand... and never see me coming.
But that one fucking time... I’ve had to live with the consequences of that one fucking time for over a damn decade. And I’m about done living with it.
Ashton’s door is open and her room is dark as I walk by. Same with Kyrie’s.
Guess baby girl wasn’t in the mood for bed just yet. Time to find my girls.
I make my way downstairs, but the rest of the house is as empty as their rooms.
Finn’s at the hospital, and hopefully Ryker’s getting his shit packed so his mom doesn’t show up tonight, even if that would be funny as hell. Gus joins me once I reach the back hall, his face brushing my calf until I reach down and scratch behind his ears. “Hey, buddy. Where are the girls?”
My lazy bulldog’s droopy eyes stare at me for a beat, his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth, and he blinks before trotting ahead, basically forcing me to follow him like he’s the human and I’m the one trained. He stops and sits in front of the closed basement door, and I’m pretty sure if he could sayhey, asshole, they’re down here, he would.
A hauntingly beautiful song plays just softly enough for me to recognize it as I open the door. Damn dog was right. I drop my hand back down to scratch Gus’s ears again. Guess he’s smarter than I gave him credit for. “Good job, bud.”
