I Want You Back (Want You #1)(44)

“Not everything is about you,” he snapped. “I did this so I could be closer to Mimi.”

“Answer. The. Question. How. Long?”

“Since I announced my retirement.”

I started laughing. “Omigod. Your whole ‘I was in the neighborhood’ excuse when you just popped by wasn’t a lie. You really were in the building, aka the neighborhood, checking on the progress of your remodel.”

“This is a good thing for all of us. I’ll be three floors away whenever you need me, not four miles.”

“It’ll definitely be handier for you to keep Mimi at your fancy penthouse apartment every night since you’ll have to wake her up at the crack of dawn for hockey practice every morning.”

He hissed in a breath. “Low blow.”

“Why are you upending my life like this?”

“Your life?” he repeated. “What about my life? I’m doing everything I can to be an everyday part of our daughter’s life, and you are blocking me at every turn!”

Four rapid knocks sounded on the door.

Jax and I both froze.

Before either of us moved, we heard the locks unclicking in the foyer, and then Nolan came around the corner, holding Mimi’s hand, with her hiding behind him.

Mimi. Crap. We’d forgotten she was awake, in her room, listening to every ugly word her father and I spewed at each other.

Jaxson and I exchanged a look of horror and then shame.

“Those guilty looks are too little, too late,” Nolan gritted out through his teeth. “Your seriously immature, seriously uncool display scared your child. I could hear the two of you yelling outside the apartment. Be thankful that she called me and not the police or you’d be talking your way out of a domestic disturbance charge.”

I felt absolutely sick.

Jaxson’s expression mirrored mine.

“Mimi. Honey.” I started toward her, and she hid her face from me, making me feel a hundred times worse.

“Meems needs a break, so she’s spending the night with me,” Nolan said. “Then we’re having brunch with Grandma and Grandpa and the rest of the Lund family tomorrow at noon.” His hard, angry gaze moved between us. “I don’t want to hear from either of you until you’ve figured this out like the responsible adults you’re supposed to be.” He picked up Mimi’s bag, and they were out the door before either of us moved.

I’m not a crier. But I burst into tears anyway.

Then the last person I wanted comfort from was right there, wrapping me in his arms.

I fought him. “Let me go.”

“Like hell. I need this just as much as you do right now.”

I stopped fighting him. I was so damn tired of fighting with him. I just clung to him and sobbed and he let me.

I cried out of guilt. Out of anger. Out of frustration. Out of confusion. Out of embarrassment.

When I had nothing left except my stuttering breath, Jax gently tipped my head back and studied me. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

“Let’s never do that to her again.”

“Okay.”

“Can we take five minutes to regroup and then start this discussion over?”

“I’d like that.”

Jax pressed his lips to my forehead, released me and wandered into the kitchen.

I hadn’t forgotten how volatile things could be between us.

But I had forgotten how quickly he could soothe me when I let him.

In the bathroom I soaked a washcloth in cold water and pressed it to my face, welcoming the refreshing coolness against my tight skin. But with my eyes closed, my thoughts returned to Jax’s favorite way to deal with conflict resolution, but no way was banging the hell out of each other until we were breathless and too spent to fight an option tonight.





Eight





JAX




After Lucy emerged from her room, I patted the spot on the sofa beside me. “Have a seat.”

Lucy, being contrary Lucy, skirted the sofa, putting it between us. “Do you want a soda or water or something?”

“I’ll take a soda.”

She disappeared into the kitchen, and I let my head fall back onto the couch cushion.

I felt like I’d swallowed an anvil. A big anvil. A big, rusty anvil that scraped my throat, squeezed the breath from my lungs and settled in my gut, until my gut started churning and then it spun around and around, reminding me of its heavy, gouging presence.

How had I—we—forgotten that Mimi was with us? The look on her face . . .

The rusty anvil did another quick spin that made me want to hurl.

Lucy returned with two cans of Diet Mountain Dew and parked herself on the sofa, facing me, sitting crossways.

“What fun thing should we address first?” I asked before taking a sip of soda.

She blinked at me, almost like she was in shock.

Guess this would fall on me to start. “Back to the first discussion. Mimi’s claim she wants to play hockey.”

“Claim?” she repeated.

“It may not interest her after she learns that hockey is about ten percent game time and ninety percent practice. Or in some kids’ cases, ninety percent practice and ten percent waiting for the coach to finally let them play for thirty seconds.” I paused and looked at her.