As soon as I thought it, I squinted an eye, chastising myself. I didn’t know him or that Courtney woman. For all I knew, she was a nutjob sister or an ax murderer.
He suddenly whipped toward me, and I panicked, eyes widening, scared I’d accidentally spoken my thoughts out loud. He stared at me, smoke billowing out of his nose in a steady cloud.
Taking several large strides toward me, he stepped into the halo of light cast by my porch lantern, and I was able to see he was wearing a dark shirt with a logo on the breast I couldn’t quite make out. I’d thought his arms had looked muscled the other day, but in a t-shirt, the unblemished, defined curves of his biceps and forearms were on full display.
His lips were flattened into a straight line and his brows drawn low over his eyes. He looked pissed. With my free hand, I blindly reached behind me, feeling for the door handle. He’d just opened his mouth to speak when I found it. Not waiting for him to yell at me for eavesdropping, I shoved my door open and ran inside.
I locked the door and spun around, feeling like I was fifteen again, getting caught sneaking out of my house in the middle of the night. Looking up, I spotted Jamie’s head peeking out of his room, “Did you spill your drink all over yourself again?”
Yes. Yes, I did.
Chapter Four
A week after my phone call with Layla, I somehow found myself on a small airplane at five o’clock on a Saturday morning, heading to my home state. It really was crazy how life could change in the span of one day.
Layla had called me the day after my mini-breakdown and demanded she come live with us, refusing to take no for an answer. We’d struck a deal; she’d move to North Carolina as long as I flew to her and made the cross-country drive with her.
The one-way ticket had been surprisingly affordable, so if I was being honest, I didn’t argue hard against the idea. She was my best friend, and I missed the shit out of her every day.
So there I was, smashed in the middle seat between two armrest hogs, on my connecting flight to Kansas. Thankfully, the time zone went back so I’d gain a few extra hours during the trip and arrive by eleven o’clock. I couldn’t afford to take more than two days off from any of my jobs, and my parents couldn’t watch Jamie on the weekdays anyway.
Layla would be picking me up from the airport, and we’d be heading straight over to get the moving truck. At that point, we’d load up her boxes as quickly as possible and immediately start the twenty-hour drive to North Carolina.
We were planning to drive straight through in order for me to make it to work on time Monday, but we’d pulled so many all-nighters in our lives, I had faith we’d do all right. As long as we took turns, it couldn’t be that hard.
I shifted in my seat, fiddling with the “I love mommy” bracelet Jamie had made me a few years ago. I wasn’t sure what had made me decide to wear it, but as I was packing, I’d suddenly felt the need to bring a piece of him with me.
It’d been only the two of us for so long, I suppose I just needed some reassurance. It felt weird to know I’d be in a different state than my child. I’d never done it before, and it felt wrong somehow, like I’d abandoned him.
In the rational part of my brain, I knew those toxic thoughts weren’t accurate. But when you spend years being ridiculed and critiqued for every parenting choice you ever made, it’s hard not to join in and judge yourself right along with the haters.
Jamie knew I was traveling to Kansas to visit Layla, but he thought I was taking a “girl’s vacation.” He didn’t know she’d be coming back with me, and I couldn’t wait to see his face. He’d been in love with her since he could speak.
Back when he was about five years old, Layla had brought her boyfriend at the time over, and Jamie had burst into tears because he’d wanted to marry her. I had a feeling she was eagerly waiting to tease him about it.
Declining a drink from the flight attendant, I pulled out a highlighter and one of the three college textbooks I’d managed to squeeze into my carry-on bag. Laying it out across my lowered tray, I prayed I could study without the motion of the aircraft making me nauseated.
“You studied both flights?”
“What else was I going to do? Crochet?”
“Sleep, Mads, you were supposed to sleep.”
I shrugged. It was so rare for me to get daylight hours to study, and I was already going to miss out on time during our return trip. I felt like it was only logical to take advantage of the flights. I doubt I could’ve slept in the middle seat anyway. That was just asking to wake up cuddling a stranger’s shoulder.
When I’d landed, Layla had been waiting at the airport coffee shop. Dressed in a baggy sweater and leggings, she hadn’t noticed me when I first arrived. She’d been hunched over a book with large, square glasses resting on her freckle-dusted nose. Her hair was loose, landing about mid-waist and was an eye-popping, vibrant blue. I might have hugged the ever-loving shit out of her.
Since I hadn’t needed to check a suitcase, it didn’t take us long to reach the parking garage and cram ourselves into her tiny Miata. I’d landed early afternoon, so as long as there weren’t any hiccups with the truck rental or packing up her stuff, we were looking good to put some miles behind us before it got dark.
“So…” she started, merging onto the highway, and I already knew where this conversation was going to head. “Meet any hot guys lately? Maybe a new guard at work, or a nice, scruffy gas station attendant?”
I rolled my eyes. Layla had been on me for years now about getting back out there. She knew me well enough to know I was lonely, but she also knew me well enough to know I had neither the time, nor the desire, to date.
In my experience, there were only four things the human male species was accomplished at: donating sperm, exaggerating the number of recipients they’d donated to, bragging about where the sperm was deposited, and disappearing the moment said deposit did its intended purpose.
I told her as much.
“You’re too young to be so damn cynical, Mads.”
I bristled at her disapproving tone. “It’s the truth and you know it. And that’s with me not even mentioning male number two who came after that.”
“You’re seriously the most pessimistic person I’ve ever met.”
I puckered my lips, pretending to consider it, then shrugged and nodded my head. She was right, I was pessimistic as hell. Life had made sure of it.
“Speaking of male number two…when was the last time you called him?”
My entire body tensed, her words triggering my fight or flight response. And since there was no safe way to fly, I went with the first choice.
“Why would I call him?” I demanded, “I haven’t called him since the day the divorce was finalized.”
She darted her gaze at me, her eyes narrowing and lips curving down. “And when was the last time he called you?”
“Does it matter?”
“That recently, huh? What a fucking asshat. Seriously, I hope someone takes a shit in his exhaust pipe.”
I sighed, reaching up to rub my temples. It was too early in the trip to already be touching on sore subjects. “He’s called me a few times, but it’s always random and spaced out.” I paused, clasping my hands in my lap. “He called last week, late evening. Don’t give me that look, I didn’t answer.”
“Good. I’d fucking castrate you if you did. He was probably drunk.”
I nodded in agreement, but internally flinched. Her statement wasn’t meant to sting, but it did all the same. When we were together, Aaron had only cared about me when he was sober. Once we separated, he only cared when he was drunk.
A half-hour later, we were driving onto the gravel parking lot of a…company? Where in the hell were we? “Layla, are you sure this is the right place? It’s kinda shady looking.”
“Yeah, this is the address the guy gave me, and look, there’s the moving truck and car trailer parked over there.” She turned off her Miata, but neither of us moved as we glanced around, the same look of apprehension on our faces.