Ask Me Why(78)

My friend notices. “Were you hoping for someone else?”

I give a slow shake of my head. “Nah. Pretty easy to guess.”

Ollie pipes up beside me. “I wish Miss Braelyn was with us.”

Jordan gets a glare from me before I turn toward my son. I make sure my expression is neutral. “I know, buddy. She’s probably working. I’m sure she’s busy.”

He makes a frustrated sound. “No, she’s not. Miss Braelyn was leaving early today. Miss Kallie is there.”

I can always count on him for updates. “I’m sure you’ll see her soon.”

His eyes glitter. “Does that mean you’ll take me to Thicket tomorrow?”

“It’s Saturday.” I’m not sure what I hope to accomplish pointing out that indisputable fact.

Ollie claps. “Yeah, we can get extra candy because Braelyn is closed on Sunday.”

I gesture to the traitor on my other side. “Ask your uncle.”

They exchange a look. “I’m busy, bro. I have plans with Sadie. Not negotiable.”

I don’t bother masking my sneer. “How fu-reaking convenient.”

My son is a curse word hunter. He doesn’t miss this near slip any less than the last one. “Daddy, stop using bad language.”

I groan into my fist. “Sorry, buddy.”

“It’s okay. I know you’re sad.”

“Uh, sure.” That response seems easier than correcting him.

“And Daddy?” He taps my shoulder.

“Yeah, buddy?”

Ollie leans in close. “Miss Braelyn is sad. You need to fix it.”

I can hear my jaw snap. “Is that so?”

“Yep. You can make it all better.”

Any response I have won’t be good. What a fucking circus. Jordan is the face of gloating smugness. Yeah, he’s so damn proud.

An idea occurs to me. “Hey, Ollie? Would you mind getting the water bottle on my nightstand? I’m thirsty.”

He blinks at me. “But that’s all the way upstairs.”

I nod. “Right. But you love climbing the steps. Maybe you can grab a game on the way back down.”

That gets him moving. He’s off the couch and dashing toward the foyer before I finish talking. I whip my attention to Jordan.

“What the fuck are you trying to accomplish?”

He combs through his hair. “I just wanna see you happy.”

“What makes you think I’m not?”

“You can’t bullshit me, man. This surly-ass shit you’ve been spewing is getting old.”

I stare at a speck on the wall. “Too damn bad. That’s not gonna change.”

“Braelyn is one of the good ones, Stone. Done let her slip away.”

I fight the urge to give him the finger. “She left me.”

“You didn’t give her reason to stay. She’s protecting herself.”

I roll my eyes. “For no reason.”

“Says the asshole who’s been emotionally closed off for the better part of his life.”

“That’s different,” I mutter.

Jordan crosses an ankle over his knee. “How? You’ve both seen a lot of trauma, just in different forms. If anything, you could help each other. You were already well on the way. Things were going so smoothly for a change. Even you can’t deny that.”

And I can’t. Everything had a brighter shine when Braelyn was around. Returning to the dingy dullness has sucked sweaty balls. Not that I’d know. It just sounds fucking horrendous.

I brush off his advice. “She’s gone. I need to move on. In a month or two, we’ll all be fine again.”

He forces out a heavy exhale through flared nostrils. “That would be a huge mistake. For real, Brance. She belongs in your lives. I’m sure you’ve thought about it.”

I hate when the fucker is right. “You don’t know shit.”

“You’re a better person with her around.”

“Fuck you, asshole.”

“Thanks for proving my point.”

If this is how my evening is already panning out, I should just go to bed. “How are we still friends?”

He rubs his nose with a middle finger. “Would it kill you to be open-minded? How about considerate? For everyone’s sake? It’s not impossible to understand where she’s coming from. You know her story. Calling her that night wouldn’t have been hard. Dead phone or not. Sparing a minute or two isn’t asking a lot. Solve this shit and get the girl. Braelyn is the only one willing to put up with your grumpy ass. You can’t give that up. A life of empty fucks is no way to live. Take it from me, man.” Jordan slaps me on the back, making his words stick.

Ollie zips into the room before I can argue. He’s panting from running at full speed. This kid can’t stand to miss any action. He passes me the bottle I asked for. I take a drink for show. Jordan laughs and grabs the cards from Ollie’s grip. He shuffles the deck.

“Should we play a game?”

My son thrusts his fist into the air. “Yes!”

“I’m not gonna like whatever you’re about to suggest.” I raise a brow in challenge.

Jordan smirks. “Dealer’s choice. Red means you take Ollie to Thicket. Flip a black and you can merely think about it.”