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Combust (Everyday Heroes Book 2) by K. Bromberg (28)

 

“If I was living with your ugly ass, I’d run for the hills too.”

I lift my middle finger up for Grayson to see as he’s hanging the drywall.

“Momma said you’re not allowed to let your bird fly that way.”

Fuck.

I lower my finger and look to where Brody sits, hands under his chin, green eyes wide like I’m in trouble. “She does, does she?”

“Yep. She says that birds should only flap when you’re really angry, and I don’t think you’re really angry.”

I shake my head. Shelby’s doing a damn good job with him. “Does your mom ever let her bird fly?”

“Only when she’s driving.” He fights a smile. “She also says you shouldn’t use the word A-S-S, but I’m a big kid so don’t worry about me. I’ve heard it before.”

I laugh loudly and press a kiss to the top of his head. “Grab a beer, we need to have a man-to-man.”

He giggles without a care in the world like every little boy should and grabs his bottle of root beer, looks at it like it’s the coolest thing, and then scoots closer to me.

“Cheers,” I say as I tap my bottle of beer against the top of his root beer.

“Cheers.” His smile is beaming.

“So . . . now that we’re getting closer to getting this done,” I say, pointing to the almost completely drywalled playroom, “we need to start discussing what type of things we should fill it with. Foosball. Air hockey. PS4. Nintendo Switch. Darts.”

“Darts?” he asks. “I don’t think my momma would like me playing with those. She’s always talking about eyes getting poked out and stuff.”

“Well, that’s the best part about being here. We’re men, and men don’t worry about that stuff. Besides, we have to have our own secrets. That’s why we have the Boys’ Club here. Right, Gray?”

“Yep.” He takes a seat and taps his beer against Brody’s. “Boys’ Club rules. You can always come here and be a man. Burp. Fart.”

Another giggle sounds off. “I’m not allowed to say that word at home,” he says with a roll of his eyes.

“What word? Fart?”

He nods.

“You’re not?”

“Nope. I have to say toot. It’s so lame. I sound like a girl.”

“I’ll have to have a talk with your mom about that one, Brody. That’s where I draw the line. A man’s gotta be able to say the word ‘fart’ or he won’t get any playground cred. Especially now that you’re a kindergartener.” Grayson just looks at me and shakes his head. “What? Don’t tell me that Luke can’t say it, either.”

“He can. In fact, I’m sure when he comes home from his play date later I’ll be hearing all about farts.”

A horn honking interrupts us. “Your mom’s here.”

“Ah, man,” he says and grabs one last handful of M&M’s that he knows his mom isn’t going to let him have.

“None of that,” I say as I ruffle the top of his hair. “Finish your beer and go grab your stuff. I’m gonna talk to your mom.”

He says a garbled okay around the M&M’s he’s chewing while he hugs Petunia and takes off for the house.

“How was Boys’ Club?” Shelby asks as she walks up, hand shielding her eyes from the sun.

“It was good. But, Shelb, toot? You’ve gotta let a boy say fart or he’s going to get made fun of at school.”

She starts laughing, and it’s such a good sound to hear after so much sadness. “This is what you’re teaching him?”

“What happens in Boys’ Club, stays in Boys’ Club.” I wink. “Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah. It was nice to relax and feel girly for a bit. They tried to talk me into going out with them next weekend, but I’m not ready for that yet.” Her voice falls.

“You should. You deserve some non-mommy time out with your friends. Drew wouldn’t want you to be lonely forever.” The words pain me to say. It’s as if saying them aloud means he’s really never coming back. But she needs to hear it. She needs to believe it, even if the blanch in her expression when she does mirrors how I feel inside.

“Grady . . .” Her eyes meet mine, and the look in them fucking kills me. “Hey, sweetie. You have fun? You ready to go?” Her face transforms into a mask of happiness the minute Brody comes jogging our way.

“Yeah. It was rad. We talked about playing darts and . . .,” His words drift off when Shelby’s eyes widen. “Never mind.” He looks at me and tries to wink but both eyes close instead. “Just man stuff, mom. No big deal.”

“Man stuff,” I repeat and stifle a laugh.

“Thanks again,” Shelby says, and her eyes light up with humor.

“Any time.” I watch them climb in her car and stare after them while they drive off.

“You going to tell me what the hell’s going on?” Grayson asks as he walks up beside me and hands me a fresh beer.

“What do you mean?”

“Ha. Nice try, baby bro, but you don’t have Brody here anymore to protect you from me asking where the heck Dylan is. Did you scare her off already?”

Maybe.

I think back to last night. To the hurt in her eyes when she walked in the back door. To the shock that made her jaw go slack when I told her how I really felt. To the wince in her posture when I told her I was using her. And to the taste of her kiss that fucking killed me to walk away from. If I hadn’t, I would have used her again—right there.

“Not sure,” I confess. “I woke up to an empty bed and—”

“An empty bed implies it was occupied.”

“Knock the grin off your face.”

“So was it?”

“Occupied? Yes. But for strictly platonic reasons.”

“Bullshit.” He coughs out the word.

But he’s wrong. My bed has been empty since Jett the fuck face left. Empty so the nightmares returned.

Except for last night it wasn’t.

For some reason, when I came in from working out here, she wasn’t hidden away in her room. No, she was asleep on her side of my bed. Her side? I’ve already given her a side? And I selfishly opted not to wake her because with her next to me, my nightmares wouldn’t come.

That and I wanted her there.

Had she gone in there to wait for me to cool off and accidentally fallen asleep? Was she still upset and needed some company?

I don’t know. I can’t ask her because she fucking left without waking me to say goodbye.

“I woke up to a note,” I say, the sting still there. “It said she had to head to L.A. for a couple days to work on a few of the songs in the studio.”

“And you buy that?”

The way he stares at me says he knows there is so much more going on, but he doesn’t outright ask it. If it was Grant, he would. But Gray is the peacekeeper and will let me explain if I want to or leave it be if I don’t.

“I knew she had to go and had been waiting to know when it was scheduled. Otherwise she’d risk violating the terms of her contract.” He looks at me like he doesn’t believe me, and I don’t know if I even believe myself. I know it’s what I want to believe. I know it’s easier to think she left because of work instead of fleeing because she still thinks she was my pity fuck. “Honestly, dude, I’m not sure what I believe when it comes to why she left.”

“Ask yourself this, were you disappointed she was gone or were you breathing a sigh of relief. The answer will tell you all you need to know.”