I watch Bree as she talks to her son in front of the car. I’m transfixed on the interaction between the two of them, honestly a bit taken by just how much he looks like her. Even from my vantage point I can see he has the same dark hair, the same nose, and the same wide eyes. I don’t know why, but I expected to see a little Blake walk out. A weird sense of relief floods through me that the little boy really looks nothing like his abusive, girlfriend-beating father.
Even the thought of him putting his hands on Bree has me clenching my fists in my lap. It’s been years and yet my reaction to this knowledge still hasn’t changed.
Bree stands, crossing around the driver’s side of the car before opening the back door. The little boy climbs in, his big brown eyes landing on me the moment he does.
“Hi, buddy,” I smile, greeting him.
“Why are you named after an ant?” he asks, his face scrunched up in a way that has laughter bubbling out of me before I can even think to form a response.
“Jackson.” Bree gets on to him though it’s clear she’s fighting back her laughter.
“What?” he asks, looking at his mom who leans in the car and fastens his seatbelt.
“You can’t just ask people things like that,” she says. “It’s rude.”
“It’s okay, buddy,” I cut in. “Some of my friends started calling me that when I was around your age. I guess it just kind of stuck,” I explain.
“I wouldn’t want people to call me an ant,” he says bluntly.
“Jack,” Bree scolds, fighting the smile on her lips.
“I didn’t like it much either at first,” I admit. “But I got used to it.”
“Are you taking me to the park?” He switches subjects without missing a beat.
I look at Bree who climbs into the driver’s seat and then turns around to look at her son.
“Yes, buddy, we’re going to go to the park,” she answers before I have a chance to.
“Can Ant push me on the swings? I bet he can push me really high,” he says, turning his attention to me.
“I just so happen to be the best swing pusher in California,” I state proudly.
“Really?” He bounces excitedly in his seat.
“Really, really.” I wink, turning to Bree to find her watching me with a weird expression on her face.
The moment she catches my gaze the look disappears, leaving me questioning if it wasn’t just in my mind.
“Well, shall we?” she asks, looking from me to Jackson and then back to me.
“Let’s do it.” I grin back at Jackson who returns my smile with an even larger one.
Spending the afternoon at the park with Bree and Jackson is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. While I have two nieces back home in Connecticut, I’ve never spent much time around little boys. To say he’s kept me on my toes would be the understatement of the year.
Jackson, or Jack as I’m learning his mom usually calls him, has more energy in one finger than I think I possess in my entire body. Everything is interesting to him, and he bounces from one thing to the next so quickly that sometimes I have trouble keeping up.
After making a go of the swings, Jack decided that I was, in fact, the best swing pusher around. This didn’t keep him entertained for long, though. He whipped through every piece of equipment at the park three times over before we’d even been here ten minutes.
Bree chases him around from here to there with a sense of ease that I never knew from her as a teenager. Honestly, there is very little about this girl I even recognize. The girl I remember was wild and fearless, always down for a good time.
She wore her hair much shorter than it is now and always had it dyed bright red. There wasn’t a thing that girl wouldn’t do. Of course, I always suspected there was something that fueled that wild behavior. Finding out about Blake and the abusive relationship she had been in connected a few of the pieces together for me, but I never got to complete the puzzle.
I think that’s why I was always so drawn to her. She always put on this tough girl act, but the façade never fooled me. Only someone who knows that kind of deep-rooted pain would recognize it in another person.
It’s easy to see someone’s mask when you’re wearing one yourself.
But this girl—this woman—she’s different. Not in the sense that the pain isn’t still lurking behind those golden eyes, but rather that she’s found something that makes it bearable.
I could never picture her being a mom. Even after I learned from Courtney that Bree was pregnant, I just couldn’t wrap my head around it. But seeing her now, it’s clear just how very wrong I had been to assume she couldn’t make it work. Not only has she made it work, but she’s a natural at it. It’s clear to see that Jack is her world, and that she is his.
Watching the two of them together makes me feel something I can’t quite explain. A sense of longing almost, though I’m not sure what exactly I’m longing for…
A child?
A family?
Bree?
I shake off the thought, knowing it’s never going to happen. Well, not the last part anyway. I sealed that deal when I decided to start dating one of her best friends my senior year.
Bree, Courtney, and Tess were thick as thieves in high school, and from what I can tell still are. Too bad I didn’t realize just how strong the pull was with Bree before I was balls deep in Courtney.
Trust me, I know how fucking big of an asshole move pining after my girlfriend’s best friend was. But I was seventeen, and I recognized something familiar in her. It was slow growing, something that built over the course of my senior year, and by the time I really grasped how my feelings had morphed it was already too late.
And not just because of Courtney.
Bree was getting ready to give birth to Jackson and preparing for her move to California, while I was weeks out from moving to Boston for the next four years. You would think the pregnancy thing would have lessened my attraction to her, but truth be told, I think it only intensified it.
So I did the only thing I knew to do, I ended things with Courtney and washed my hands of the entire situation. I knew back then what I still know now: Bree Kingsley is and will always be the one girl I missed out on.
I made my peace with this a long time ago. But being here with Bree, seeing her smile and laugh, reminds me of the girl I used to know. The one who I couldn’t stop thinking about for months. The one who controlled my thoughts long after I had moved away and let her go.
“Hey.” Bree plops down on the bench next to me, pulling me from my thoughts as she lets out an exhausted breath.
“Good to see I’m not the only one wore out.” I chuckle when I glance over to see her head back, eyes closing for the briefest moment.
“I think I’m losing energy. Someone needs to feed me,” she whines playfully, spreading her hands across his slender stomach.
“Mama!” Jack chooses this moment to launch himself into his mother’s lap and she quickly jerks upright, arms going around him so he doesn’t fall to the ground. “I’m hungry.” He bounces up and down on her legs.
“You were saying?” I chuckle.
“Can we get chebutt and French fries?” he asks, continuing to bounce.
I quirk a brow at Bree. “Chebutt?” I mouth.
A small laugh escapes her mouth. “Ketchup,” she mouths back. “He knows how to say it but for some reason he won’t. It has always been chebutt.” She shakes her head. “How about we go to Charlie D’s?” She turns her attention back to Jack who nods his head excitedly.
“Charlie D’s?” I ask, having never heard of it.
“It’s a little local burger joint a couple blocks from the apartment. It’s Jack’s favorite place to eat.”
“Sounds good.” I say, realizing just how hungry I am myself. “Charlie D’s is it.”
It’s just after nine when Bree finally emerges from Jackson’s room. She looks exhausted, hair falling from her ponytail around her face, eyelids heavy. Fuck if she isn’t the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“Get him down okay?” I ask when she slides down onto the couch next to me, pulling her legs up in front of herself.
“Finally.” She gives me a lazy smile. “I swear my grandparents pump him full of candy before sending him home to me. He’s never as hyper as he is after he comes home from Nana’s and Papaw’s.”
“That’s what grandparents are for.” I grin, knocking my arm against hers.
“Yeah, that’s their excuse too.” She tries to stifle a yawn.
“Why don’t you go get some sleep? I should probably take off anyway,” I say, sliding forward on the couch.
“You’re leaving?” She sounds disappointed, and fuck if that doesn’t annihilate every ounce of motivation I have to go anywhere.
“I figured you’ve probably seen enough of me over the last couple of days,” I tease, reaching out to playfully squeeze the spot above her knee. She squirms under the contact and bats my hand away.
“But Sebastian’s is almost an hour away,” she objects.
“That’s what Uber is for.”
“Stay,” she offers, her voice soft. “There’s no rush for you to leave right this minute. Jack and I can run you back over tomorrow.”
“You sure?” I ask, not wanting to put her out but also not really wanting to leave either. She’s not the only one who’s exhausted, even though that’s definitely not the only reason I want to stay.
“Yes.” She nods, smiling when I scoot back into the couch cushion and prop my feet on the table in front of me, dropping my arm over the back of the couch behind her.
“Okay.” I yawn. “But only because I can’t take your begging,” I tease, tensing when she turns and snuggles into my side, her head resting against my chest and her arm stretching around my stomach.
She feels too good against me—too perfect—and fuck me if I can’t stop myself from dropping my arm off the back of the couch to wrap around her slender shoulders.
“Shut it,” she finally responds, snuggling deeper into my side, the sweet weight of her against me doing things to me that it shouldn’t be doing.
Relax, Treadway, she’s just a friend. I remind myself. But even knowing that doesn’t stop me from trailing my fingers up her arm, loving the way her skin prickles under my touch.
I want more—so, so much more. But I also know that friends are in short supply for me right now, and I can’t go fucking things up with Bree; not when I need someone like her in my life so desperately.
I’m all over the place right now. I’m fucking lost is what I am. I thought coming here, to California, would offer me the reprieve I needed to figure out what the fuck I need to do next, but so far it’s only offered me distraction. Much-needed distraction but distraction just the same.
It’s time I make a choice.
I can’t crash in Sebastian’s spare room forever, pretending like we’re still teenagers. I need to get a job, figure out my next moves—do something, anything. And as I close my eyes and relish in the feel of Bree next to me, I wonder if I haven’t just found the motivation to do just that.