The Girl with my Heart (Summer Unplugged #8) (12 page)

Someone is slapping my face. Fingers in my mouth and on my eyelids. I squeeze my eyes shut, blocking out the intruder. A tiny hand slaps my cheek. I open my eyes. I’m lying on my back on the couch and Jett is sitting on my chest, smiling at me. He squeals when he sees me awake and slaps my face again.

“Hey little man,” I murmur. My voice sounds like it hasn’t been used in ages. Jett falls forward, his face lying on my chest and I hold him close. My heart finds a way to break again.

I sit up, holding onto my son. Bay smiles at me, seeming to be a hundred feet taller than usual now that she’s standing over me. “Hey, babe,” she says, leaning down and kissing me on the cheek. “Jett was excited to see his daddy. What are you doing sleeping on the couch? It’s like four in the afternoon.”

I swallow but it doesn’t help my throat. It’s still dry as hell and there’s an entire mountain lodged in it just beneath my Adam’s apple. I try to force a smile. Jet’s fingers play with my hair, pulling it and trying to put it in his mouth. “Um,” I say, vaguely remembering that she’d asked me a question. But all I see is Bayleigh, beautiful and innocent. Sweet and loving. And so very perfect in every way. “I didn’t feel very well so I laid down,” I hear myself saying.

Her eyes go wide and she yanks Jett away from me. “Are you sick? Do you have a fever?” She touches my forehead with the back of her hand and then rushes into the kitchen where she sets Jett on the counter and begins wiping down his hands with an antibacterial wipe from his diaper bag.

I shrug. And then I decide to go with the lie. “Yeah, I feel kind of hot. Maybe I’m coming down with something.”

“Baby,” she croons. “You should have called me and I would have come home to take care of you.”

I shake my head and everything inside of me hurts. “I don’t want you to get sick. I’m fine. Maybe I should just sleep out here for a while.”

She frowns and swings Jett over to her hip. “I’m here to take care of you, babe.” She gives me a little pitying smile. “That’s my job.”

I can’t even meet her eyes. I’m the worst fucking person in the world. My expression must reflect this because she walks over to me and goes to the loveseat across from my couch. “You look like shit.”

“Yeah,” I nod. “You could go back to your mom’s if you want. That way you and Jett won’t get sick.”

She shakes her head. “We’re a family. If we all get sick, then so be it. So what’d you do this weekend?” she asks all casually like it’s not a big deal. And I guess to her it’s not. When I don’t say anything she keeps talking. “You and Park get any business stuff done? Becca was saying something about closing on the land.”

I nod. “Yeah we went out drinking on Friday night.”

My blood freezes. Why did I say that? Oh shit why did I say that?

Bayleigh just laughs. “Where is there to go drinking around here besides Big Max’s?”

“That’s where we went.”

Her lip curls. “Damn you must have been hard up,” she says with a laugh, again as if it’s no big deal. As if her husband getting wasted without her is nothing. It’s not nothing. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever done.

I run a hand through my hair. “Well we were celebrating quitting my job but Park can drink a hell of a lot more than I can.”

She lifts an eyebrow and Jett grabs her face, making her beautiful lips stretch into odd shapes. “Since when? You better not have let him drink you under the table, Mr. Adams.” She shakes her head. “You know how competitive Park is, he’ll be rubbing it in my face for months if he beat you at something.”

I force a smile and I figure that she should know as much as I can possibly tell her without breaking her heart. “He definitely won. I passed out at some point and don’t even remember how we got home. But I do remember a ton of camera flashes.”

She rolls her eyes. “You have a lot of fans, Jace Adams.”

I snort and I think an actual smile tugs at my lips even though I don’t deserve the happiness. “Park has more fans.”

She points a finger at me, donning a stern look on her face. “You better get more fans because I won’t let Becca’s boyfriend beat you at everything, okay?”

I smile. “Okay.”

An entire week later, I’m getting dressed in the living room, still faking the idea that I’m sick with something that might be contagious. Although the clinic called and said my STD results came up clear, I can’t face my wife in the bed we used to share. I just can’t, knowing that I’ve betrayed her so much.

Bay has spent her nights watching TV with me, sitting on the opposite couch from me, just to be as close as she could before she finally goes to bed. God, I love that girl so much. How could I have done this to her?

You didn’t
, a voice says in my head.
You would never cheat on your wife.

I draw in a deep breath and step into my shoes. I know I wouldn’t. I know I’d never hurt her, never want to be with anyone else. Some moments I feel so confident in this that I want to rush over and tell her everything I remember and hope she is confident in me, too. But then I am overcome with the worry that maybe I am wrong. Who knows what I did when I was too drunk to realize it?

But your heart, the deepest most sincere values you hold to be true, should always be there, right? I would never want to be with anyone besides my wife. That should mean I wasn’t with anyone besides her.

But waking up next to a naked bitch shatters even the most confident hearts.

I brew a pot of coffee and fill up the largest travel mug we have after downing a cup. The hot liquid makes my stomach hurt, but lately everything makes my stomach hurt. My phone beeps and I open it.

Park:
Want to get some donuts before we head to the title company?

Me:
Nah… I’ll just meet you there.

Park:
K. Don’t forget your checkbook fool!

The sound of footsteps makes me turn around. I slide the phone back into my pocket and reach for the money order I had secured yesterday. Fifty thousand dollars—my half of the down payment for our business.

“Good morning, business owner,” Bay says with a coy smile. She’s wearing one of my Mixon t-shirts as a sleep shirt. Her cell phone glows in her hand.

“You didn’t have to wake up this early, babe.” I fold the money order in half and slide it into my wallet. “Enjoy your sleep until Jett wakes up.”

She shrugs. “I was sleeping but then my phone went off and look at this shit.” She turns the phone out, facing me, but I can’t see the screen from the other side of the kitchen.

I fit the lid on my coffee mug. “What is it?”

“Natalie just added me on Facebook. Like seriously?” she scoffs. “That girl is so pathetic. Like now she wants to be my friend? PLEASE.”

The entire world seems to go in slow motion. Fear rakes its way up my back, piercing into every nerve ending. My heartbeat slams into my chest, so loud and erratic that I’m sure she can hear it from across the room. “That’s weird,” I manage to say.

Bayleigh shrugs. “I’m gonna accept her and then constantly post about how handsome and perfect my husband is.”

“I don’t—” I say, stopping when I realize I shouldn’t finish my sentence.

“You don’t what?” she says. “I just can’t believe she wants to be my friend. Like really? She called me fat, the stupid bitch.”

I shrug. “It was probably an accident. She probably stalks your page because she’s insane like that.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Bay’s face lights up from the glow of her phone. “Okay I’ll ignore her request. Fuck her.”

I force a smile. “Probably for the best.”

She walks up and grabs my shoulder, lifting up on her toes and planting a kiss on my cheek. My body aches for her touch, desperate for more. But I don’t deserve more of her. Not until I find out what really happened that night—but the evidence doesn’t look so good. Maybe I’ll never deserve Bayleigh again.

“You look so terrible,” she says, pulling away. Her eyebrows pull together and she frowns. “My poor baby. You shouldn’t be sick on the day you’re becoming a business owner,” she says, squeezing my arm.

“I’ll feel better after a few cups of coffee,” I lie.

She smiles. “Good luck today.”

“Thanks,” I say, wondering if she’d still be wishing me luck if she knew what I did.

The title company is a small office nestled in the middle of a shopping center and the walls have been freshly painted a mocha color judging by the smell of it. Another scent, the smell of vanilla candles nearly overpowers me as I walk into the small waiting area. A woman with ridiculously huge boobs greets me with a smile and a, “Hello there! You must be Jace Adams!”

I shake her hand and wonder how she stands on those tall freaking heels without toppling over. “That’s me.”

“Your partner is in this room over here,” she says, leading me through a small maze of chairs and end tables. We enter an office with a desk and two chairs in front of it. Park sits in the chair closest to the wall, a box of donuts in his lap. He’s eating one and waves at me with his other hand.

“Hey man,” he says with a mouth full of food. “Donut?”

I take one, figuring the calories will be good for me. I haven’t eaten much in three days and god knows what that’s doing to my muscle mass. I probably can’t even bench three-fifty by now.

The woman introduces herself as Mary and takes a seat across her desk from us. She gathers up a bunch of legal-sized papers in a manila folder marked Park/Adams. “We just need a few signatures and then you guys will be land owners.” Her bright red lipstick smiles at us. “Are you excited?”

“Hell yeah,” Park says, leaning forward. He grabs a pen from the jar on her desk. “Let’s do this.”

A dozen of our signatures later, Mary stands and shakes my hand. “Congratulations,” she says. “Good luck with your business, gentlemen.”

Park thanks her and starts talking about our plans for the land and the business. My phone vibrates and I pull it from my pocket. The message is from a number I don’t recognize but it has the same area code as Mixon. It’s probably a client, wondering when I’ll be training again.

I click on the message and the words make by heart seize up in my chest.

Hey Jacey I hate to break it to you but it looks like I’m pregnant. We should talk. -N

The next few moments are a blur. I rush out of the building, into the parking lot where I throw a hand onto my truck and lean forward, pressing my forehead to the hot metal on the door frame. My breaths are shallow and hurried. I can’t get enough air. There isn’t enough air in the entire world right now. I’m dying.

I can’t breathe.

A hand grabs my shoulder. “Dude.”

My legs give out and I’m on the concrete in the parking lot, my knees burning from the fall, my hands shaking uncontrollably.

“Shit, man,” Park says, kneeling down beside me. “What’s going on? Are you freaked about the business?”

I shake my head. I try to talk. I come up with nothing. I gasp for a breath and then another; each painful inhalation threatens to be my last. Park shakes me, repeatedly asking me questions I can’t understand over the thumping of my own heart.

I want to run away from him, from my life, from everything. But deep down I know that Park might be my only ally right now. I reach into my pocket and hand him my phone.

A few moments later he says, “Shit.”

I find the strength to drag my eyes away from the concrete and look over at my best friend. He watches me with disbelief and confusion. “There’s no way she’s actually knocked up,” he says, shaking his head. “She’s lying.”

I say the only thing I’m thinking. “But what if she’s not lying?”

Tears well up in my eyes. Park’s lips press into a thin line and he grabs my arm, hauling me up to my feet. He turns and opens the passenger door of his truck which is parked next to mine. “Get in, bro.”

I do. Because there’s nothing else to do. If he’s a good friend he’ll take me to a river somewhere and shoot me. Put me out of my misery.

Instead, he drives us to our land.

The field is a vast square of possibility. There’s trees dotting the grass and overgrown weeds as far as the eye can see. The scorching hot summer air feels good on my skin. My entire body has been freezing since I got that text. I walk away from Park’s truck, venturing into the land that is now partly mine. Park pops open the cooler in the back of his truck and tosses me a water bottle.

“Alright,” he says, walking to the back of his truck. He pops the tailgate handle and lowers it. “Sit,” he says and I go ahead and do it, although running away sounds like a better idea. His phone rings and he ignores the call. “Tell me everything.”

I draw in a deep breath and spill my guts. I tell him everything I remember about that night at Big Max’s and how the last thing I can actually remember is taking pictures with him. Then I explain how I woke up with a massive headache in a tiny room in the back of a smoke shop next door. “That’s it. I was completely repulsed, Park. I hate her. You have to believe me.”

“Of course I believe you,” he says, taking a long sip from his water bottle. “That woman is out to get you and she has been since the day she started working at Mixon. The only way you would have cheated on Bay is if you were drugged.”

I lift an eyebrow. “Do you think she roofied me?”

He shrugs. “I dunno. We drank a lot. Like a fuck ton of liquor. You could have just passed out on your own.”

“Which means I can’t possibly have sex if I was that drunk.”

He nods. “I was thinking the same thing.”

I rub the condensation from my water bottle, watching the drops slide off the plastic and disappear into the weeds below our feet. “I don’t understand how I even got there. You wouldn’t have let me go.”

He shakes his head. “Nah, of course not. I didn’t even know she was there. I was talking to this chick who claimed she interned at Motocross Weekly magazine and when I turned to introduce you to her, you were gone. I gave it a few minutes, thinking you were taking a piss or something but when you didn’t come back in half an hour, I called you. I called a million times and finally went home.”

He sighs, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Jace. I shouldn’t have given up like that. I should have looked for you.”

“You’d never have thought to look in a store that’s closed,” I mutter. “It’s not your fault.”

“I was pretty damn drunk. I kept thinking maybe you went home and told me about it and I’d just forgotten.” Park runs a hand through his hair and I watch him, his expression as somber as mine. “I’m here for you, you know. Anything you need. If I knew how to hire a hitman to take out that bitch, I would.” He smiles and I smile back, but the expression feels all wrong on my face.

I draw in a deep breath and focus on keeping that donut in my stomach. “What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“You should talk to her. Demand a pregnancy test. Hell, demand an ultrasound. It’s only been a week. Doesn’t it take longer than that for a chick to know she’s pregnant?”

“Yeah it takes a couple of weeks,” I say automatically, recalling on my experience with Bayleigh. And then my stomach twists into knots and I feel like throwing up again. An unexpected baby with Bayleigh was the greatest thing in my life.

This situation is the absolute worst.

And then suddenly I’m crying. Crying like a fucking child in front of my best friend. “I didn’t do it, man,” I say between sobs. “I know I didn’t. I would never.”

“I don’t think you did. I bet she got knocked up by some idiot and is trying to pin it on you for child support.”

“Why would she do that?” I say, shaking my head. “DNA would prove her wrong and she’d get nothing from me.”

He bites his lip. “Damn, you’re right.”

I draw in a deep breath and wipe my eyes. This is such bullshit. I am a father and a husband. I should be the strong link of the family—the one who keeps us all together, protected and safe. And now I’ve ruined everything. I don’t even have a job right now.

I pull out my phone and open it to the text message from Natalie. I call the number while Park watches me silently.

“Hey there, Jacey,” she says, sounding not the least bit surprised that I’ve called her.

I force my voice not to crack. “What do you want with me?”

“I’d rather talk in person,” she says. Park eyes me intently and I put the phone on speaker so he can hear the conversation. Maybe he can help me make sense of it later.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I snap. “I didn’t sleep with you.” If I say it with enough confidence maybe she’ll admit that it’s true. Or maybe she was drunk as well. Maybe she has no idea.

She laughs. “Oh honey, you did a whole lot more than sleep with me.” The lighthearted tone of her voice makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “But don’t worry, I’m not here to ruin your stupid marriage or anything.”

I swallow. “What do you mean by that?”

“Twenty five thousand dollars and I’ll go away.”

“Why the hell should I believe that?”

“Hmm,” she murmurs into the phone. “I’ll send you the abortion papers after you pay. If you don’t pay, I’ll have a chat with your wife.”

I’ve never hated anyone or anything more than I hate Natalie.

I open my mouth, unsure of what I’ll say next. Park holds out his hand. “Call her back,” he mouths.

“I’ll call you back,” I say and this time my voice does shake.

“Make it quick, Jacey. I won’t wait longer than an hour.”

I end the phone call and stare up at my best friend. “What the fuck am I supposed to do? I’m not paying her that kind of money.”

“You don’t need to kill a baby you don’t even know is yours either,” he says, taking out his cell phone. “Let’s see how long you have to wait to get a DNA test. I think they can do that shit in the womb now.”

I shake my head. “She seems to have this all figured out. Is this just a money grab? I mean, I thought she liked me or had a crush on me or something but this is some next level evil shit.”

Park nods. “Man, you need to find out if you really did sleep with her. I mean, could you live with yourself if you did? And if she has your kid?”

Bile rises in my throat. It’s easy to deny it because I’d never dream of doing such a disgusting act when I’m sober. “I was out of my mind wasted,” I say, staring at the scratched up paint on Park’s tailgate. “No matter what she says, I was too damn drunk to have sex. I mean, it’d be practically impossible. And I wouldn’t do that to Bay.”

“I know man,” Park says solemnly. He throws an arm around my shoulders and it’s a thousand times more comforting than it is weird. His muscles stiffen a moment later. “Holy shit, I’ve got an idea. I know how you can figure out if you slept with her not.”

“I’m all ears,” I say just as my phone rings. With shaking fingers I look at the screen, expecting to see that random Natalie number or worse, Bayleigh. But it’s a call from my landlord’s office. I know the rent isn’t late, so this weird. “Hello?”

“Hey there Jace,” my landlord says. His raspy voice is ten times more gravely than usual. “Just wanted to let you know that we can offer a lock change for free if you’d like. Some people like that kind of thing.”

“What do you mean? What’s wrong with my locks?” He must have the wrong apartment.

“Well, uh, it’s just a courtesy. You don’t have to do it if you think you’ll get back together…”

My battered, worthless heart finds a way to ache even deeper. “What are you talking about?”

“Jace your wife just moved out. I’m sorry but I thought you would have known about it. She took her name off the lease and gave me her keys. Said ya’ll were getting divorced.”

Park watches me with an unreadable expression, probably matching the one on my own face. “I see.” I hang up the phone without a goodbye. So this is what the end of the world feels like.

“What the hell was that about?” Park asks.

I stare at my hands. I don’t even know who these hands belong to anymore. “Natalie lied about giving me an hour.”