Blitzed (Rules of Possession Book 3), page 10
What the fuck could Jesse know about making mistakes anyway? Even patron saints would tell him to get a life. He got paid peanuts to help kids and put a quarter of those peanuts back into the center. He did it as quietly as possible, but everyone knew.
I wished I could get this ridiculous want for him out of my system. Because even as prickly as he was, I wanted to push him against the wall and kiss him until he was a boneless, pliant mess in my hands.
I brushed past him before I did something that we both would regret. “See you, Fox.”
“You have a half-hour left,” he called after me.
“Write me up.”
11
JESSE
Joshua looked at the back of the computer tower, then at the cords in his hand, as if they would magically connect themselves. “Where does this go?”
I was a little busy untangling my own set of cords. I glanced up from my position on the floor. “Does it look like I know?”
“Not really, but you’re doing a damn fine job of faking that shit.”
I huffed out a laugh. That…was pretty much my life’s adage in a nutshell. I wasn’t all that adept with technology, but I bumbled by. I knew enough to get everything plugged in and in place. Molly assured me that she could handle the network shit.
I was still floored at the donation of computers. They’d arrived early in the morning, courtesy of the Silver Arrow Learning Group. Apparently, the wife of an Outlaws running back was on the board. Silver Arrow had overhauled their systems and deemed the computers relics. They were in such good shape, they might as well have been still wrapped in plastic.
So I applied myself to hooking up monitors and keyboards all day. Even as I crawled around on the floor, trying to keep all the cords organized so no one tripped and fucking died, I silently acknowledged the obvious—I was an ass and I needed to apologize.
Who was I to say who could be a role model and who couldn’t? Maybe part of me was a little jealous. McAdams vibed with the kids in a way that had taken me years to achieve. They trusted him. He was this big, laid-back guy who knew how to be fun and didn’t stress about being perfect. I didn’t know how to embrace all the mistakes the old me had made. Instead, I’d done such a good job of making him disappear that mob bosses studied my technique.
After another half hour, I lost Joshua. A text from his son, Dale, was all it took. He got off the floor and plopped down in a chair, muttering something about his poor knees. The sound of his pecking as he texted was soothing as I continued what had to be one of the most annoying tasks in the world, plugging in monitors and testing them one by one.
“God, will you look at this? She’s getting so big.” Joshua turned his phone around to show me pictures of his three-year-old granddaughter, Allyson. Judging from the series of pictures, her primary hobbies were screaming, giggling, and eating things messily. “It goes so fast, you know?”
I nodded, sticking another cord in hopefully the right slot. I felt resistance a hair too late and pulled it back out, cursing when it warped. That’s what I deserved for taking the gorilla with a toy he doesn’t understand approach to hooking up a computer.
My inattention was the only excuse I had for asking my next question. “Any word when you can visit?” I asked, trying to unbend the fucked-up prong with my fingers. I realized Joshua had gone completely still and replayed the words in my head. “Fuck. I didn’t mean…sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
Judging from his slumped shoulders, it wasn’t. I felt an unjustified burst of anger at Dale. His father had made some mistakes, no doubt about it. But forgiveness…wasn’t something that was owed. I sighed. Dale had the right to be upset forever if that’s what he needed.
“He needs time, Jess.”
“I know that. I just want—”
“You think I don’t? But these things can’t be rushed. At least that’s what the therapist says.” He shrugged. “I’m just happy he’s willing to keep the lines of communication open.”
“So am I. It’s just that…we all make mistakes, Josh.”
“Like shutting people out?” He raised an eyebrow. “For years I’ve been after you to go out and find someone that makes you happy. Now he falls right into your lap like a ripe mango and you’re all, I was hoping for a coconut, but thanks.”
“Okay, you’ve lost me with all the fruit talk.”
“Then I’ll speak plainly. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Jess.”
I wasn’t above stalling my ass off. “Who?”
“A certain big football player who shall remain nameless.”
“You need to get your eyes checked.”
“My eyesight is perfect. He looks at you a lot, especially when you’re not looking. And I’ve seen you looking at him, too. That way,” Before I could dignify that garbage with a response, his mouth kicked up. “Damned uncomfortable is what it is.”
“Keep talking nonsense and it’s off to the home with you.”
“I’m sharp as a tack.”
“More like a rusty old pushpin that keeps falling out of the bulletin board.” I smiled at his bark of laughter. “And since when are you in my business?”
“Since always. This job can become an obsession,” he said. “There’s always going to be one more thing that you could’ve done, one more person that you could’ve helped. It can take over your life, heart, and soul.”
I frowned. I’d heard a version of that same song and dance from several exes, but never Joshua. He should understand my motivation better than anyone. “Is there some reason you’re telling me this now?”
“Because I don’t want you to let life pass you by. And stop giving me that betrayed look,” he said mildly. “I just want you to find balance. While you’re busy changing lives, don’t forget to have one of your own.”
Maybe he had a point. Not the part about letting that overprivileged ball player into my carefully constructed life, of course. But I spent most of my waking hours at the center. Any schmoozing I did over lunches was with clients or potential clients. That didn’t leave a lot of time for cultivating friendships, much less relationships.
“I’m not completely hopeless, you know. Greg asked me out a few times.” I bit my lip. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to go out for coffee or something.”
“Greg?” Joshua didn’t look as pleased as I thought, especially considering I was taking his very unsolicited advice. “Isn’t Greg your contact at the homeless shelter?”
“Yeah. He’s a great guy.”
“I’m not saying he isn’t. But he’s just as involved as you with charity work.”
“All the better for him to understand the demands of the position.”
“You don’t need to date a Jesse clone. You need someone who will shake up your world. To bring a little fun into your life. Someone who can be goofy when necessary.” He suddenly looked like he was hiding a smile. “Someone who’ll steal your favorite coffee mug and make you chase him down the hallway to get it back.”
I glowered because that hadn’t been the least bit funny. When I’d finally caught McAdams, he’d held my mug above his head. I instinctively jumped for it, just two little hops really, which sent him into paroxysms of laughter. I huffed as I realized there was no way I was reaching above his head without a fucking stepladder.
“I think he has a growth hormone imbalance,” I muttered.
Joshua snorted because he played for team tall and burly, too. “Short person says what?”
“Watch it.”
His eyes gleamed with amusement. “You need someone who can light a fire inside of you. Someone who can make you flustered with no trouble at all, so much so that you put salt in your coffee when he compliments your eyes.”
I scowled because what happened in the breakroom stayed in the breakroom. Also, salty coffee was gross. I’d made a good attempt at drinking some of it, just so McAdams would know I meant to do that. I certainly wasn’t distracted by his stupid, gorgeous face.
I wasn’t sure if he bought it, though. He’d finally snatched the cup from my grasp with an astonished, Good Lord, Fox. He muttered to himself as he dumped the coffee in the sink and made some more. I only caught the tail end of stubborn and ridiculously cute before he presented me with a fresh cup. Joshua had grinned the entire time, pretending to unwrap his burrito for lunch. Never had a man unwrapped so slowly, just so he could watch the entire exchange before moseying off to his office.
But what was his point, anyway? Yes, I liked Andrew McAdams. Maybe I liked him a lot. No need to make a federal case out of it. Lots of people liked him. Tuesday had suddenly become our busiest fucking day and there was no need to wonder why. His personality drew in people like a crying lost puppy carrying another crying lost puppy on his back.
I thought about that all-too cute scenario for a moment and how I would rescue the fuck out of those puppies. “Maybe we could talk about something else?”
“Sensitive spot, eh?”
I shook a handful of USB cords at Joshua. “Look, I can either plug these in or wrap them around your nosy neck.”
He didn’t look concerned in the least, his hands linked over his stomach, a small smile on his face...at my expense, of course. But at least he wasn’t thinking about his rocky relationship with Dale. For that, he could poke fun at me all he wanted.
“Hey, Jesse.”
I glanced up from my crouched position to see Harper standing there, shifting from one foot to the other. Judging from the backpack dangling from his fingertips, he’d come straight from school.
Fuck, things were sure different from my learning days. I needed a locker and a rolling backpack for all my books and crap. Whatever was in that nylon drawstring deal Harper had could probably fit in his pockets. Of course, back then my buggy had been in the repair shop, and some chap named Edison had been going on and on about something called a lightbulb.
“Hey, Harp. What’s up?”
“I saw the light on and thought I’d see if you need help.”
“I’m almost done here, but thanks.”
“When can I use a computer?” He asked eagerly. “I need to check my portal.”
I chuckled because I knew his offer had been pure bullshit. The kids were usually all over our two older computers like bees on honey, and there had been a lot of flak at my “temporarily out of order” sign. I’d win ’em back, especially when they saw the new improved setup. Our previously woefully lacking computer room was now a “lab” with ten computers and fast Internet. Well, there would be fast Internet when Molly did her magic.
“Go ahead,” I said, waving him on. “One of the older ones, though. These aren’t hooked up yet.”
Harper made a face even as he slunk over to the relic with the yellowing keyboard. Joshua and I asked him a few questions about his day as we worked, nothing too intrusive but trying to show interest. It was remarkably peaceful as he spent five-point-six seconds checking his school portal, and then started browsing the net.
Maybe a little too peaceful. I gave him the side eye as I untangled cords. Harper wasn’t much of a talker, but he usually did better than one- or two-word answers. Joshua gave up after a few minutes and got busy breaking down the boxes the computers came in.
I tried another tack. “So…everything at school going okay?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re at your mom’s house tonight, right?”
“Yup.”
I puffed out my cheeks as I thought. Usually, his time at his mother’s was a little better than his time at his dad’s, so that couldn’t be it. “How’d the game go?”
“It was just practice,” he muttered. “Not a game. Jeez.”
Ah. Keep poking the bear long enough and he growls out a warning. Or mauls you to death. I guess it depends on the bear, and maybe what he had for breakfast.
“Let me guess. Your dad didn’t show?”
“No, he actually made it today.”
Harper didn’t look all that jazzed about it. Joshua widened his eyes at me and shrugged. It was a catch-22 kind of situation. When his dad didn’t show, Harper felt slighted. When he did show, Harper felt slighted. I couldn’t blame him overmuch. His father usually spent most of his time telling Harper what he’d done wrong. But that wasn’t new, and usually didn’t put him in such a quiet, introspective mood.
And then I thought about something that was supposed to be different about today’s practice. “McAdams didn’t show, did he?” I practically growled.
“He was probably busy,” he muttered.
Who the fuck isn’t? When something was important, you made time. I bit back several replies before settling on a terse, “Sure.”
This was exactly what I’d been trying to avoid. I should’ve never agreed to let him work with the kids—they had enough disappointment in their lives without actively courting more. I should’ve assigned him to trash duty or cleaning something. That’s if he even knew how.
Harper sent me an apprehensive look. “It’s not that big a deal.”
“Don’t minimize your feelings,” Joshua instructed quietly. “You’re allowed to feel disappointed and you have no obligation to hide negative feelings.”
Harper and I sighed in unison. Joshua wasn’t wrong, but I wouldn’t mind if he kept some of the techniques he learned in therapy to himself. I missed dealing with my problems the old-fashioned way—burying them, pouring concrete over the spot, and then having a slice of celebratory cake.
“I told everybody he was coming to see me play,” Harper finally said. “Pete said there’s no way, and I said, yes way, just fucking watch. By the end of practice, Pete was laughing his ass off. He’s such a fucking douche.”
Harper was so down, I didn’t bother to correct him on his language. This time. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
He shrugged. “It’s whatever at this point. He’s busy. He doesn’t have time for my shitty little practice. Don’t bother him about it, okay?”
Bother him about it? I wanted to string him up by his spoiled thumbs. And never mind the twinge of guilt I felt thinking about the hard work that he’d put in at the Harbor. He wasn’t dialing it in like I’d expected. And I knew he had a busier schedule than most. But I did warn him about promising things he couldn’t fucking do when it came to my kids.
“Sure thing,” I said in carefully measured tones. I wasn’t fooling either of us, and Harper sent me another anxious look. I tried again. “I’ll do my best.”
Harper muttered something under his breath, and I hid a smile as I got back to work under the desk. I might wear glasses sometimes to read, but my hearing was fantastic.
“Language,” I reminded him, and I could practically hear his eyes roll.
After he finished flattening boxes, Joshua stood and stretched. “Harp, you mind helping me haul these outside?”
“No problem,” he said, pushing out of his chair. He grabbed a handful and loped off to the recycling bin.
I plugged in another monitor, yanking my hand back when it sparked. “The wiring in this place is absolute shit,” I snapped.
Joshua didn’t bother to respond because we already knew that. We also knew that my sudden desire to chew nails had nothing to do with the computers.
“Give him a chance to explain himself,” he said quietly.
I didn’t need pretty words. I liked action. I’d known from the beginning exactly who he was. Hell, I was glad he was living down to my expectations. I wasn’t disappointed at all. Not even a little bit.
12
JESSE
Friday was movie day at the center. We usually put on a movie in the rec room in the afternoon—sometimes a double feature—and the student of the week always got to select the movie. Then everyone else got to complain about the winner’s choice. Loudly.
The kids had already argued about who’d sit in the bean bag chairs, who would get the last bag of Cheetos, and why someone ate all the good candy from the bowl. True enough, I could’ve bought more Snickers, but I thought watching a candy death match was way more fun.
I ignored their bickering as I scrolled through the prompts on the TV. Getting the right movie cued up was always a pain in the ass. It didn’t help that I never remembered my login credentials. I silently lamented that you could no longer put a VHS cassette in a machine and press Play. Then I thanked Father Time for allowing me to live to see a hundred.
“I think this movie came out like a billion years ago,” Ben said, flopping into a bean bag chair. “I’m not watching any animated bullshit.”
“It’s throwback movie night,” I said, squinting at the menu. “And watch your fu—freaking language, kid.”
“How about the one with the panda?” Pippa paused in front of me, willing me with her eyes to capitulate.
“How about no?” I craned my neck to look around her. It was annoying that these kids were getting taller than me. Just wait until I found some sneakers with lifts. “You wanna have a seat? Turns out you’re not invisible.”
She sat, sprawling on the carpet, but not before she made one more request. “What about Encanto?”
“I can’t-o,” I said, finally cueing up the movie. “This one was Joy’s pick.”
“They made it into a play and everything,” she said importantly, not looking up from her phone. “It’s a classic.”
“You don’t say,” I said, amused.
A classic? Good Lord. I shook my head as the movie started to play, and put the remote on the TV stand. It was a sad day when your childhood favorites had to be lugged out of the Disney vault as some whippersnapper blinked in wonder. And fuck, did I just use whippersnapper in a non-comedic way?
I could only hope that when I crumbled to dust someone remembered to turn on the Roomba. I headed back to my office.
There were invoices to go through and two donors to call back who needed tax forms. I also needed to get an estimate from Got ’Em Critter Fumigation because something—emphasis on something—had gotten into Molly’s snack stash in her bottom drawer. Whatever it was, it only came out at night and freaking loved Oreos. My guess of Cookie Monster was not well received, and I hurriedly assured her that I’d take care of it.
