I kept my eyes on the house across the street. I hadn’t seen my son in days. Lexi wasn’t exactly handling my presence at the time being, so I stayed away. Since my return, she changed some, and I hated seeing her like this. No longer the fun, loving mother I’d come to watch from afar, she was now an anxious mess, her face strained, her eyes bleak, and knowing I was the cause was fucking with me.
So I held back, continuing my watch, keeping a distance. I didn’t know how long I would manage that, but I would hold off for as long as I could. My palms were sweating. I hated feeling out of control, always had, and everything that was happening right now was out of my control.
Angst coursed through me at the thought of being kept from my son.
How long would this go on?
For a solid week, I checked Lexi’s window at night, and when I found it locked, I left with a nothing but a sigh. All I wanted to do was talk to her, be close to her, and it was killing me to not force myself into her life, as I really wanted to. I could’ve snuck in if I really put my mind to it. I could’ve broken the latch, leaving her room forever open to me, but I needed her to want me. To show me she wanted me.
Yesterday morning, in the silence of my home, I heard Happy talking to his woman. He spoke to her a long while, apologizing profusely, taking responsibility for what he’d done, and after what seemed like hours, he walked out of my guest room with his bag.
I peered at him before turning back to stare out the open window. “Goin’?”
“Yeah,” he muttered, standing in the open doorway. “Talked to Nikki. She wants me home.”
“And Dave?” I knew how much he loved that dude.
Happy sighed, reaching up to rub at his bald head. “He might pop me in the mouth, but I don’t care. I’ll let it slide. Isn’t anything I don’t deserve anyways.”
Before we got into this mess, we knew there would be consequences. The price was small for what had been gained though. I’d do it all over again. I wondered if Happy would do the same.
Happy approached and I turned, holding my arm out to him. He gripped my forearm before we brought it in, slapping each other on the back. He didn’t say a word. All I managed was, “Owe ya.”
I didn’t need to say it. It was a given. But Happy had put up with me for the past five years, keeping me updated, sending me photos of my son, my woman, being my eyes and ears when I was a world away. He dealt with my temper, my rage, my depression, and he did it without complaint.
Yeah.
I owed him.
When he left, I continued to stare out the window, thinking about my son and how much I wanted him with me.
***
Lexi
The week went slowly, torturously so. I had that time to think about my reaction to Twitch wanting to spend time with our son. My mind wandered to places it shouldn’t have. I was still so understandably hurt, but as I sat back and looked at this situation in its entirety, I came to realize that by keeping Twitch from A.J., I wasn’t just hurting Twitch. I was hurting my son.
Which was why I was swallowing my pride and walking across the street.
Before I even reached the house, the front door opened and Twitch stepped outside, his brown eyes watchful, likely waiting for another attack, and he was right to expect it. I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from verbally lunging at him.
Dressed in navy fitted jeans, a tight black long-sleeved tee, and scuffed white Adidas originals, he ran a hand through his too-long hair. With the scruff on his jawline, he looked like a wet dream. No. That was too tame a statement. He looked like a supercharged wet dream. A wet dream on Ritalin.
Jesus.
His shoulders lifted slightly as he moved to put his hands into his jean pockets and when he spoke, his rough voice washed over me. “Hey, angel.”
Two words. That was all it took for my nipples to bead.
God. I was pathetic.
Averting his intense gaze, I uttered softly, “Can I come in? I need to talk to you.”
Without hesitation, he drawled, “Always welcome here.”
My heart ached in a way that made me want to cry. I wouldn’t. But I wanted to.
I followed him inside and was surprised to find how homey it felt. The front door opened into a widely spread area, and from my place, I saw the clean kitchen and dining area as well as a small sofa and big screen television. My nosey ass peered down the hall toward the bedrooms, but I quickly inhaled, then turned away.
Twitch, never one to miss a thing, uttered, “Want the tour?” I went to shake my head, but he added, “It ain’t much. I mean, it’s not the mansion at Darling Point, but—” His lip twitched. “—it’s a place to rest my weary head. Besides...” He absently scratched at the scuff at his throat. “I’m tryin’ to lay low.”
The mansion at Darling Point. Oh, the memories. I spent most of my nights there. It was the place I got pregnant. The same place I almost died after a drug-fueled night. That mansion was my home as much as it was his. I missed it sometimes. I would occasionally drive down there just to get lost in my head a while.
Keeping my distance, I nodded slowly, then lightly sighed. “Sure.”
I would be lying if I said I wasn’t curious.
As he walked me through the house, I kept two steps behind, needing that space between us. He threw open the door to the bathroom, switching on the light. “Bathroom.” Then the door next to it. “Laundry.” Down the hall, he opened a room with a double bed. “Guest room.” The room beside it was open. It had a single bed with Paw Patrol sheets, a bookcase with children’s books, and a toy box. Before he said it, I knew what this was. “A.J.’s room.”
My concern reached a fever pitch and I spun on him, asking, “What are you doing, Twitch? Why are you here?” And finally, “What do you want from us?”
But the beautiful brooding man threw his thumb back behind him, and when he spoke, he did it low, full of insinuation. “Wanna see my room?”
Swallowing hard, I shook my head and hated the way I flushed. “I want you to answer my questions.”
He took in a deep breath before releasing it though his nose. “Not big on demands, baby. You know that.”
My stomach flip-flopped. “Stop calling me baby.”
Leaning against the doorframe, those full lips pursed and his eyes crinkled in the corners. He took his time roaming my body, and when he said the single word, I knew I’d made a huge mistake in coming here. “Never.”
Say what you came to say and leave, Alexa.
“A.J.’s miserable,” I told him and was fascinated over the way he straightened and gave me his undivided attention. “So I need to know what your plans are.”
Twitch’s concern stayed at the forefront, but he licked his lips and murmured, “My plan is to be a father to my son.” He added carefully, “If his mom will let me.”
Okay. “He’s not a toy, Twitch.” His eyes narrowed, but I went on. “He’s not something you can play with and put back when you get sick of him. He’s a little boy, an impressionable little boy who, for whatever reason, loves you.” At that statement, Twitch’s body relaxed a little. “So, what’s happening? Are you staying or leaving?” It took everything I had to be brave enough to say what I did. “Because even though it makes me unhappy to see you, I’ll deal with it if that’s what he needs.” My voice quieted. “But you can’t leave. Not like you left me.” Because I didn’t think A.J. would survive it.
No hesitation. “I’m not leavin’.”
A light scoff left me. “Forgive me for having zero confidence in you.” My mouth pulled down in a grim line. “There was once a time when you told me you’d do anything for me, and look how that turned out.”
His eyes bore into me, laser beams, discomfiting. “How do you know I didn’t?” Before I had a chance to think on that, he said, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m back for good. And—” He hesitated. “—I want to be a good dad.” He dodged my hard gaze, appearing slightly awkward when he added, “So maybe you can help me out there.”
He seemed sincere. Why did that bother me so much?
My heart beat increased in pace. This was it. No going back now. “You can start by picking him up from school today.”
Twitch’s head snapped up, his eyes questioning as if he thought this was a joke.