When I Need You (Need You #4)

Within ten minutes of Rowan’s departure, Martin and I were at my place playing GTA.

“You look spooked, Martin.”

“I am. It’s just . . . weird. This doesn’t even look like your apartment anymore, Jens. Calder’s LEGOs are on the kitchen table. You’ve got throw pillows on this couch. And a candle on the end table.” He pointed at the wall. “What is that?”

“It’s a puzzle Calder and I put together and had framed.”

“No, dude, what is the image supposed to be?”

“Dogs doing ballet. Hey, it’s cute. It’ll go perfectly with the dogs-baking-cupcakes puzzle we’re currently working on.”

He snickered. “I see my nephew has worked his magic on you.”

“Yeah. He’s a great kid.”

“So you and Rowan . . .” He shook his head. “Never saw that one coming.”

“It’s not a casual thing with us.”

“I picked up on that. And lucky for you that you’re not dicking her around or else I might do something crazy like this.” He blew up a Corvette on the screen and gave me an evil, non-Martin smile.

“Understood.” I got sucked into the game for a bit before I said, “Why didn’t you tell me about her? Or Calder?”

He shrugged. “They never came over here.”

“That’s the only reason?”

“Nope. The biggest reasons are yours, brosky.”

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning . . . Ro violated all three of your rules.”

“I told you about those rules?”

“Uh, Rocket, you told everyone about those rules.”

Great.

“Fireball ain’t your friend.”

I hit pause on the game. “I need to talk to you about something serious.”

“Yep, you can marry my sister.” He nudged me with his shoulder. “Then we’ll really be broskys.”

“I don’t need your permission to marry her. And the situation I’m in . . . sort of has to do with that.”

Martin tossed the controller aside. “This gonna cheese me off?”

“Probably.”

“Up front between us, true? I can take anything except you telling me you secretly don’t like the little dude.”

“No worries there. I freakin’ love the kid.”

“Good. Then what’s what?”

“Remember last year when I had to postpone moving in and there was a bunch of red tape? Well, I had to buy in.”

Martin frowned. “Little foggy about that.”

“I had to buy in. As in . . . I had to buy the entire complex if I wanted to live here.”

“Get out.”

“True story.”

“You find my secret stash, bro? Because that’d mean you’ve been lying to me for over a year.”

“How is that lying?”

He shook his finger at me. “Lie by omission. Same thing.”

“Wrong. If you’d said, ‘Jens, you own this joint now?’ and I lied and said no . . . that’d be different than you not asking.” Or not knowing. For the first time since I’d bought this place, lock, stock and barrel, I felt guilty for keeping it a secret.

“Who all knows you’re a Lund Land Lord?”

Martin cracked me up. I’d missed this guy. “My family. Bob. Sue in the business office.”

“None of the residents know you’re the resident evil who won’t fork over the cash to fix up crap around here?”

I laughed. “No. But I have applied for permits for updates. It’s a more complicated process than I imagined.”

“Sorta sucks that I’ve been paying you rent and didn’t know it.” His eyes gleamed. “Hey, if my rent money paid for part of that Corvette, I should at least get to drive it sometimes.”

“Nice try, buddy. But we’ve gotten off track. You gave Rowan grief today for not looking for a house. I haven’t exactly encouraged her to look since we’ve been together.”

“Because you’re gonna build her a huge mansion?”

“If that’s what she wants. But knowing her, if she really wanted to own a house, she would’ve already bought one.”

“Too true.”

“My tentative plan is to gut the three empty apartments on the main floor, plus the one where the lease is up next month, into a single-family residence. We’d end up with four bedrooms, a huge kitchen, a sweet master suite, a living room and a family room plus a private patio on the south end.”

“So you’d live downstairs? You and Ro and little dude?”

“That’s what I’m hoping for.” But if Rowan decided she’d rather find a house, I’d be good with that too. The most important thing to me was us living together as a family. “Here’s where you come in.”

“Lay it on me.”

“While I’m at training camp, I need you to convince her that you miss your old apartment and she and Calder should move in here.”

“Why?”

“Because this couch won’t fit over there. And my bed is bigger.”

“TMI, Jens. She’s my sister.”

I poked him a little. “Is it TMI if I say the reason I’m so fond of this couch is because the first time your sister and I—”

“Stop talking, Lund. Seriously. First thing, what I saw . . . I can’t ever unsee. And now I’m gonna be looking way too closely at this couch before I sit down.”

“You’re welcome. Glad you’re back, Martin.”

“That means you’re ready to play?”

I laughed. “Yep.”

“I ain’t going easy on you because we’re really brothers now.”

Martin and Rowan both had that same sweet streak—and I appreciated it even more now. “I’d expect nothing less.”





Twenty-three


JENSEN




I’d survived the first two weeks of training camp in Mankato. Living in the dorms sucked, although this year a local mattress company had provided all the players with king-sized beds.

My body was strong, healed and ready to hit the field. Not practice. Not training. Real football. Part of me had always known that if I hadn’t had such an amazing season the year I’d gotten injured, the team probably would’ve let me go. So while my teammates bitched about the lousy accommodations, I was just damn glad to be here at all.

Still, I missed Rowan. I missed Calder. I missed the life we’d started to build together. Getting through the season with all the traveling and training would test us as a family unit.

So there was no freakin’ way I’d be late to Calder’s camp performance, because I knew I’d miss his other school events this fall.

When the new assistant coach—assistant to the assistant offensive line coach actually—demanded my presence to go over the days’ training tapes immediately following practice, I said no.

Evidently he hadn’t expected that.

Evidently he believed his power was greater than mine because he started to dress me down. On the field. In front of my teammates.

I walked off.

Evidently he hadn’t expected that either.

Devonte had. I heard him warning Coach Wannabe to back the fuck off.

I managed to make it through a quick shower and was nearly dressed before the HR coordinator approached me in the locker room. Poor sucker did not know what he was in for this season.

“Rocket? I’m Trent from HR and I’m working on transitioning the new coaching staff with our veteran players. Coach Wallaby informed me that you’ve refused to attend the mandatory post-training meeting—”

“Yes, Trent, I did refuse. I’ll watch the tapes next week, but it is not a possibility today.”