KASEY

After a long day at work, and helping Taylor with homework that should never be this hard for somebody her age, having the night off is exactly what I need. Having an empty apartment again seems foreign, which is odd considering it hasn’t been long since Taylor moved in. But I love having her around, because her free spirit reminds me of a different time, when our family was happy. 

When I was happy.

Slipping into an oversized T-shirt is only half of the fun I have planned for the night. The other half consists of curling up under the blankets with a book in hand, and Supernatural on in the background. 

Although, Supernatural will probably take precedence. 

Part of me hopes that something will take my mind off the conversation I heard Jake and Ian have earlier. I know Jake means well, but I don’t like him talking about me to Ian. It’s like two different worlds colliding. If my past and present merge, I can’t determine what my future will be, and I need to know it. I need that control. 

Eventually, you’ll have to say good-bye.

Jake knows more than anyone in this town that I hate hearing good-bye. The idea that somebody can just up and leave, without even looking back, makes everything unbalanced. Ian isn’t here for long, and connecting myself to him in any way will only end badly. 

Goodbyes … they aren’t my thing. The less people I let in my life, the less likely I’ll be disappointed when things go south. Because they always do. 

Just as I’m about to crawl into bed, there’s a knock at my door. Frowning, I consider ignoring it and going on with my night as planned. Rose has Taylor, and I have the Winchesters. It’s the perfect night, sans something sugary that I’ve been craving all day. 

The knocks keep coming, and I decide it’s best not to let the neighbors complain about it later. 

Trudging toward the door, I half expect to see a cocky rock star standing on the other side. Instead, a familiar blue uniform greets me. 

“Oh, hey.” My eyes quickly travel to what’s in his hands. “Is that cake?” 

Wrapped in plastic wrap is what I assume is chocolate cake, frosted and all. My mouth waters just looking at it, and my stomach comes to life. Even though I ate an hour ago, there’s always room for cake.

I step aside to let him in. 

“It was in front of your door,” he explains, looking skeptically at it. 

I can’t help but be disappointed. “You didn’t make it?” 

He gives me a sheepish smile. “Baking isn’t really my thing. You should throw it out. It’s safer if you don’t know who made it.”

A small smile appears on my lips before I can beat it down. “It was probably Ian.”

His brows go up. “As in Wells? Your neighbor?”

I nod, taking the dessert from him. “He promised Taylor that he’d make her chocolate cake, and that was a week ago when …”

“When I stopped by?” 

I simply nod in reply. 

“What exactly is going on between you two?”

I anticipate the question. 

“Nothing.”

He stares down at the cake. “He made you cake, Kasey. Men don’t spend time baking women cake without motive.”

“He made Taylor cake,” I correct him. “And what motive, Mr. Detective? Do you honestly think I’d take my pants off just because somebody slapped together a cake mix and frosting?” 

His eyes roam to my legs. My very naked legs, exposed from the shirt only covering my upper thighs. 

“You’re not wearing pants,” he notes. 

I blush, tugging on the hem of the shirt. 

His head cocks to the side. “And is that my old high school jersey?”

My eyes widen as I peer down at the forest green tee with his number on it. Sure enough, it’s the one I stole from him back in high school. I can’t even remember why he left it at my house.

“Uh …” 

A predatory smile pulls at his lips. “I like you in my shirt, Kasey.” 

My blush deepens, which means I probably look like a tomato at this point. Jake saying that should have sent shocks through my heart, but I felt nothing. Not like I wanted to. Like I should have.

“I also like you without pants,” he adds casually. “I’m not sure how I feel about you answering the door like that for just anybody though.” 

I roll my eyes. “Any sane person would know not to bother me on my night off. I was just about ready to read.”

“Does my mom have Taylor?”

“You know she does, Jake.”

He grins. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your reading time. I wanted to drop in to talk to you about a few things.” 

The tone in his voice isn’t as playful as before. My eyes do a double take at his uniform—the uniform he always changes out of when he’s off duty. 

I place the cake on the counter, appetite suddenly nonexistent. “This is a work visit.”

“It’s about your mom.”

My lip twitches. Great. The perfect topic to ruin my otherwise decent night.

“We found some … concerning things in her house,” he announces. 

“Concerning things as in drugs?”

His eyes tell me what he doesn’t. 

I push away from the counter. “Son of a—” 

“I know it’s not what you want to hear, but you had to know. We did a search through the house, and found multiple bags of what appear to be cocaine in your old bedroom.” 

My jaw drops, because that isn’t where I expected them to find anything. 

“Wow,” I breathe. “She was storing her drugs in my bedroom. That’s …”

Demented. Morbid. The list goes on. 

He gives me a sad smile.

“Do you know where she is?” he inquires next.

I shake my head. “She didn’t tell me where they were going.”

“Her and her boyfriend?”

I shrug. “Boyfriend. Flavor of the month. Whatever. Are you going to arrest her?”

“If we find her.” 

I press my lips together. Should I be sad that my best friend wants to arrest my mother? Because I’m not, which probably makes me lose the daughter of the year award. But something tells me Mom would steal that trophy and sell it for drugs, so it’s not like she’s getting mother of the year either. 

“Kasey, I know this is tough, but—”

“It’s not though.”

“Your mother is in trouble.”

Stubbornly, I cross my arms on my chest. “And she got into trouble all on her own. I’ve tried helping her, Jake. You of all people know that. But it doesn’t matter, because she doesn’t want any help. I learned that letting her go was better than going down with her.”

He doesn’t say anything right away. 

Maybe he's reconsidering why he even wants to date me. We never did plan our date like we said we would, and it may be for the best. Too much happened.

I wouldn’t blame him for walking away now. I mean, most people would be sad or scared that their mother is in trouble. Me? I welcome it. Maybe getting arrested will be the wakeup call that I couldn’t seem to give her. 

“You amaze me,” he states, taking me by surprise. “I know how torn you were about your mom back in high school. Rosie saw it, too. But you figured out what was worth fighting for, and I think that makes you stronger.”

My lips part a fraction. “Really?” 

He nods. “Really. You’re thinking about Taylor now, who has her whole life ahead of her. You’re looking after the person who has a chance. Your mother … it’ll depend on what she’s willing to do. Change or not.”

My eyes widen with sudden fear. “Oh my God. What about Taylor? What happens to her if Mom gets arrested?”

 If. As if she won’t be found. She always comes home. It’s not if, it’s when. 

“If she has full custody of Taylor, then she’d go to next of kin to be watched out for.”

My heart eases. “So me?”

He pauses. The hesitation sends shockwaves of anxiety through my system. “I want to know what happens to my sister, Jake. Tell me!” 

“In a lot of cases, the parents are sought out first …”

“But Mom would be in jail …” My thought trails off when his answer soaks in. “No. No way in hell, Jake!” 

“Kasey—”

“He left! He abandoned us. If he were interested in taking care of her, he would have. He hasn’t even been in contact since the day he walked away.”

“Your father—”

“Is dead to me,” I seethe. 

He steps toward me, taking my arms in his hands. “You need to calm down, Kasey. I know you’re upset. I get it, but won’t help this any. There are still options.”

I blink away sudden tears. “Like what? If the next of kin is my father, then how can I fight that?”

He rubs my arms, the warmth from the friction easing some of the tension coiled in my body. “If he’s deemed unfit under any circumstances, they can award you custody.”

“What circumstances?”

“He walked away. That’s your best chance at winning her. You’re right, Kasey. He hasn’t had any contact with either you or Taylor. He left, which doesn’t look great in a case like this. If there’s a case.”

I look away from him. “Mom will be back, which means there will be.”

“He could grant you custody. Sign away any rights. The court would have to make sure that you have a steady income and good enough shelter to take care of her, but the fight isn’t over. There may not even be one. You have to think positive.”

I break away from his hold, even though his warmth is comforting. My jumbled thoughts bounce around in my skull, giving me a headache.

I grab a bottle of water from the fridge, and some Motrin from the cabinet. 

“I ruined your night,” he states, sighing.

After down a couple pills, I sit down at the stool next to the island. “You didn’t. It’s just … a lot to take in. I knew there was drugs as soon as Taylor drew that picture, Jake. I don’t know why I’m surprised.”

“Because she’s your mom,” he replies, walking toward me, brushing fallen hair away from my face. He tips my chin up to meet my eyes, his touch lingering. “And no matter how many times you tell yourself that you hate her, that you’ve given up, you’re holding onto hope that she’ll get better someday. That’s the kind of girl you are. You like to see the best in people. You do it with everyone.”

I want to ask him who everyone is, but I have a feeling I know the answer. His man-to-man with Ian at the diner resurfaces, but my head aches too much to think about it again. He’s made his opinion on Ian clear. He’s not a fan of him being around, yet he’s protective of me when it comes to Ian.

I want to avert my eyes, but I don’t. “What if there’s nothing good left in her? She’s been broken for so many years, Jake. If I can’t fix her, who can?”

“It’s not your responsibility to fix her.”

I close my eyes as his hand sweeps my face, cupping my cheek. His thumb brushes against my bottom lip, causing little shivers to travel down my spine.

“Will you take care of me, baby?” Mom asks, brushing her fingers through my hair. I love when she’s like this—calm. With it. It’s comforting.

“Of course, Momma. You can count on me.”

I should have known from the start that there was no taking care of that woman. She was too hellbent on destroying her memories, even the good ones. No matter how many times I tried reminding her of what there was to fight for, it was never enough.

I was never enough.

That realization will be with me for the rest of my life.

But since I haven’t told anybody that, I decide lying is my best option. “I know I’m not. But … it doesn’t make it easier, you know?”

His voice is quiet. “I know.”

I open my eyes, to see his gaze burning into me. His eyes are soft, but the color is a dark mocha with something edged in. Contemplation. Indecision. 

I swallow. “Um … is there anything else you need to tell me?”

He blinks, the look fading only a little. “There’s a lot that I want to tell you, Kasey. Now just isn’t the right time for it.”

His answer surprises me, because I can hear the seriousness in his tone. 

We stay like that, staring at each other for a solid minute before I move away from his hand. He drops it to his side, clearing his throat.

“Listen, I …” He rubs the back of his neck. “I want to still go on that date, but I don’t know if this is an appropriate time to ask given the situation.”

I knew it.

I manage to crack a small smile. “Is that your way of asking me on a date?”

“Is it working?”

“I still want to.” I think.

“Would it be wrong to set up a time?”

“It would be a good distraction …” I bargain, trying to remain optimistic.

“How about tomorrow night?” 

“Where were you thinking?”

He leans his hip against the counter, his holster resting on the top. “I know how much you like diners, but something tells me that going to Birdseye is out of the question since you practically live there.”

I laugh. “Good call.”

“Tell you what,” he bargains, “I’ll pick you up at six. It’ll be a surprise. I think I have an idea that you’ll like.”

“I have to figure out where Taylor will go.”

His cheeks turn pink. “My mom will watch her again. In fact, she’ll take her to and from school.”

“You … you planned this ahead of time, didn’t you?”

“Before I found out about your mom,” he admits. “Rosie loves Taylor, and she’s rooting for this. For us. I know it may seem silly, but I am, too. I don’t know if you are, but I’d like to see where this goes.”

My chest feels heavy. “Do you think I don’t want that?”

He hesitates. “Honestly? I’m not sure. You’ve been a little different since Ian showed up.”

I stare in disbelief. “Ian?”

“I know you two were close once upon a time.”

Internally, I groan. Here we go again, riding the bus back to old memories that I don’t want to keep exploring. 

I sigh. “That was like a lifetime ago.” 

“But that doesn’t mean feelings change.”

“There were no feelings,” I inform him. “There was a friendship. That’s all. While we’re on the subject of Ian, what was that at the diner earlier? It seemed like you were scolding him.”

“I just wanted to see what his intentions were.”

“His intentions?” I repeat. “What are you my dad?”

He cringes. “That’d be creepy.”

My face screws. “Okay, yeah. Disregard that comment. But still, I don’t need your help with him. I can handle the situation on my own.”

“Your face lit up when you saw the cake.”

I deadpan, “You know I’m a food addict. My face lights up when I see homemade bread at the store, too. Sue me.”

He laughs. “Solid point. I just wanted him to know that nobody wants to see you hurt.”

Not this again. “While I appreciate the concern, I don’t need you meddling in my business. Ian won’t hurt me, Jake. I can promise you that.”

He frowns. “Mom said you two were inseparable.”

I stare at him, unsure of what that has to do with anything. 

“You know we were,” I argue dryly. “You were only a grade ahead of us.”

“I didn’t pay much attention back then.”

I roll my eyes. “Nice.”

He winks. “I pay plenty attention now.”

I snort. It’s an unattractive sound, but I own it. “I don’t even know what changed that. One day you just sat by me at lunch.”

“You looked sad.”

“Huh?”

“The day I sat with you, you looked sad,” he explains, shrugging. “I mean you looked that way for a while before I decided to sit with you, but especially that day.”

I frown. I know the reason I looked sad on that day was because it’d been almost four months since Ian left without a word. I’d kept track, thinking each day would be different. That I would go home and find a message on the machine, or a letter in the mail.

Each day, I’d be more disappointed than the last. 

“So, essentially, you took pity on me,” I conclude, not sure if I should feel enthused over that.

He chuckles. “Maybe a little. But you hung around the diner a lot with your mother, so I saw you when I came into see Rose.”

“And …”

“And you seemed nice. You were always trying to make your mother laugh, and even though it didn’t always work, you never gave up. I liked that. Knew we should be friends.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Did Rose make you talk to me?”

He shoves his hand in his pants pocket. “She may have mentioned that you were a good kid. Didn’t mean I had to talk to you, or sit by you. But I did.”

I sigh. “But you did.”

“And the rest is history.”

We’re quiet again, leaving me with only my thoughts. Since that’s the last place I want to be, I decide to speak up.

“You don’t have to worry about Ian and me,” I assure him. “There is no Ian and me, and there hasn’t been for over a decade.”

“You don’t want there to be?”

“He wants to be friends, but I …” I think about it, like I have more times than I want to admit. I come back with the same pro/con list every time. “I like where my life is now. I’ve found my place, and I don’t want anything coming and messing that up. He’s leaving soon. His band goes back on tour according to every outlet and newspaper in town.” I eye him knowingly. “Don’t pretend you haven’t been tracking him. I saw you confront him in the diner.”

“He’s always there.”

“So is Bill,” I counter matter-of-factly. “But you don’t warn him off.”

“Bill is innocent.”

Bill is a nosey old man, but he means well. Still, innocent isn’t exactly what I’d call him.

“Ian is, too,” I retort just for the sake of arguing. 

“How do you know?”

“What makes you think he isn’t?”

I can’t figure out why I’m defending him, but I am. 

“He’s into you, Kasey. I don’t care if he says that he wants to be friends, he’d be stupid if that’s truly all he wants. Any guy would want to be more with you. The fact that he comes to the diner every day says that.”

Rolling my eyes, I pat his arm. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, Jake.”

“I’m not—” He blows out a breath. “Okay, I am a little. But he gives me a reason to be. I just don’t like how he looks at you.”

I bite the bullet. “And how is that?”

“He looks at you like I do.” His voice is low, raspy. His dark eyes seem a little darker at the admission, although it’s nothing new.

I want to feel something, and I do. But I don’t think the unease in my stomach is what it should feel like. 

I know Jake likes me, but I don’t get behind the idea that Ian does. Maybe Ian likes the idea of me, but that’s it. We’re just two friends reuniting. And even that concept is a stretch.

I reach out and touch his hand. “Please don’t be jealous, Jake. You don’t have to worry about Ian. He’s my past.”

“And your present,” he murmurs.

I shake my head. “He’s in my present, but he’s not the sole person in my present. That’s you, and it has been for years. And if … if this date does what I think it will, maybe you’ll be more.” I blush, because being forward is something I’ve always been, but I never know if it’s too much. “I mean, if you want it that is.”

Do I want this? 

He moves his hand so it’s over mine, entwining our fingers. “I do want that, Kasey. Hell, I’ve wanted that for a while. Not just because Rosie was trying to get us together, but because I’ve wanted to know what we’d be like together.”

My cheeks heat up. “And how do you think we’d be?”

“Slightly chaotic,” he admits. “But in a good way.”

My brows raise. “Is there such thing as good chaos?”

He chuckles. “I sure as hell hope so.”

I roll my eyes. “So when you asked me out senior year of high school, you meant it? Because Rosie kept dropping hints that we’d be cute together, and I thought for sure that’s why you did it.”

His nose scrunches. “You thought my mother made me do it?”

I eye him. “She made you talk to me at school when we were little.”

He relents. “Fair point. But no, I asked you out on my own. I didn’t even know my mother was dropping hints until after you so cruelly rejected my advances.”

I scoff. “I wasn’t cruel about it.”

“You laughed.”

“I thought you were kidding.”

“But I wasn’t.”

“And as soon as I realized that—”

“Over a minute later,” he interjects.

“I stopped.”

“Alas, the damage was done.”

“You did not just say alas.”

He grins. “I did.”

I giggle. “You’re a dork.”

“And you’re adorable.”

My blush returns. “So …” I look at our hands. “This was a nice distraction from the serious conversation we were having.”

He squeezes my hand. “You’re going to get through this. We both will together.”

“What should I tell Taylor?” My voice is quiet. Weak. 

“You don’t have to tell her anything. Not right away.”

I think about it. “She’ll ask where Mom is. She loves our mother unconditionally. She’s like a damn puppy.”

He laughs at that. “Is that really a bad thing? Hate is …well, it takes a lot out of a person. I don’t think either you or her are capable of something that strong. That damaging.”

I don’t think that’s true. We are all capable of hate. We’re all capable of doing so much damage that we leave scars—whether real ones or not. 

Sometimes the invisible scars are the worst ones to have, because the damage they’ve done is engraved in your soul, but nobody can see the pain they cause. 

Instead of disagreeing with him, I just nod.

He let’s go of my hand. “Do you want me to stop by after my shift, or are you going to read one of your sappy romances again?”

I gasp. “How dare you call my books sappy!”

“They’ve got the half-naked men on the covers and everything. They probably describe men’s penises as steel rods.”

I burst out laughing. “What kind of books do you think I read?” 

He shrugs. “Girly ones?”

“Want to know which book I’m reading?” I don’t give him time to answer. Instead, I hold up my hand, silently telling him to stay there. 

Hopping down from the stool, I head to my room, grab the book from the nightstand, and walk back into the kitchen. 

“Here.”

He stares at the book in my hands, studying it. A slow smile spreads on his face as he looks from the worn cover to me.

“You’re reading Harry Potter?”

“Unless Rowling put some adult content as bonus scenes that nobody ever talks about, there’s no steel rods in here worth noting.”

He shakes his head. “I’ve been telling you for how long to read this series?”

“Since we first started talking.”

He nods. “It’s about time.” He glances down at the cover. “Wait, is this mine?”

He opens the cover, and stares at his name scrawled in barely legible handwriting.

He tsks. “First my shirt, now my books.”

I take the book back. “Rosie gave me the book,” I inform him. “She told me you left it in your old bedroom, free for the taking.”

He huffs. “As if I would ever give up my Harry Potter collection.”

“Do you still have the wands you carved in woodshop?”

“Do bulls have horns?” he retorts.

My face screws. “I mean … not all of them.”

He sighs.

“I’m just saying! Some are removed, right?”

“Yes, Kasey. I still have the wands.”

“What about the Funko Pops?”

 “Of course I have the Funko Pops. You gave them to me.” His offense seems genuine.

I put my hands on my hips. “I also gave you an amazing calendar for your desk at work before you were officially on patrol, but you didn’t keep that.”

He deadpans, “It was a Barbie calendar.”

“Ken was in it, too,” I reason.

“Somehow, that doesn’t make it better.”

I shrug.

“All right,” he finally says, looking at the watch on his wrist. “I’ve still got a little time left. Are you going to be okay?”

“I’ll survive.”

He pulls me into a hug. “I know you will. You’re one of the strongest people I know. I mean that.” 

His chin rests on the top of my head, his arms around my waist. My cheek is against his chest, which I know is chiseled even under the slightly baggy button-up blue shirt he has on. Part of me feels ashamed to say that I’ve checked him out while he was shirtless before, but sometimes you can’t help it. Not when somebody looks like Jake does.

It’d be a crime not to.

I pull away first. “I don’t know about that,” I disagree, giving him a dismissive smile.

“Don’t doubt yourself, Kasey.”

“Don’t get all lecture-y on me, or I won’t supply you with the one thing you can’t turn down.”

His eyes light up, deviousness reflecting in his hues as they travel back down to my exposed legs. I should have put some pants on while I was in my room.

“And what might that be?”

I swat his arm. “Mind out of the gutter, perv. I was talking about doughnuts and nasty ass black coffee.”

He puts his hand to his heart in mock offense. “Your stereotypes hurt me.”

“You can take it.”

He starts backing toward the door. “So can I come back over? I can read to you if you want. I’ll even read the ending first, because I know you still do that.”

I crack a grin. “I can see that still ticks you off, which is why I do it.”

He turns the doorknob. “You do it because you don’t like surprises. Don’t lie to me, I detect liars for a living.”

“Huh,” I muse, “I thought you were the doughnut mule for all your work buddies.”

“Har har.”

I wink at him. “Admit it, you want doughnuts right now, don’t you?”

He opens the door, not answering.

I give him the look. 

“Okay, yes. I’m probably going to stop at the store after my shift ends. Happy?”

“Naturally.”

“Want me to pick you up something?”

I shake my head. “No thanks. I’m probably heading to bed early tonight anyway.”

He sees past my lie, but leaves anyway. 

That’s the thing about Jake. He knows when not to push, when to leave things alone. If I tell him I don’t want to talk about something, he gives me space.

We have an understanding that works for us, even though some people used to say it isn’t going to always be that way.

“You need a man who isn’t afraid to push you outside your comfort zone, Kasey,” Rosie tells me.

She’s insistent that Jake can do that, but I don’t tell her that he never does, because I like our dynamic. It’s safe. It never disappoints.

“There’s nothing wrong with somebody who changes you. When you meet somebody who is persistent on breaking your bad habits, you know you’ve got a keeper.”

I’ll always remember that advice, but I tell myself not to make it influence who I decide to be with. Rosie would tell me anything back then to give Jake a chance. While I was the troubled kid, Jake was the golden boy. The rule follower. She would always tell me what a good influence he’d be for me, but I wouldn’t have it. 

Now … now I can picture us together, because everything that he is, is what I need. He’s the person who will help me figure things out logically. He’s my shot at getting Taylor.