Meet Me Halfway(31)

“Oh, no, that’s okay—”

“I know, Madison. I know you can do it on your own, but I’m here and have nothing else to do. Let me finish helping, and then I’m out of your hair.”

I rubbed the back of my neck. I needed to chill. He was being a friend, probably trying to make up for his asshole behavior before. I needed to stop being so pessimistic and assuming the worst out of everyone. He knew I had a roommate, and my son was right outside. He wasn’t going to do anything.

“All right, thank you.”

He looked at me over a box of pasta, “Was that so hard?”

I gave him a flat look. He had no idea. I hated admitting when I needed or wanted help. “I’ll be right back.”

Jamie slid out of the Jeep like a slug, dragging his feet next to me while we walked. He wasn’t a morning person, and that general description held true post-nap as well. “What has you feeling so drained, bud? Tough day?”

“Not really. Just didn’t sleep well last night.”

I frowned. He hadn’t mentioned anything this morning. He used to suffer from nightmares right after everything happened with Aaron, but I didn’t think he’d had one in a long time. I glanced at him wanting to ask, but knowing he’d deny and deflect. He was a lot like me that way.

So instead, I opted to perk him up. “Layla will be home any minute. We’ll throw together some dinner and then have the ultimate game night. Sound good?”

We stepped onto the porch, and I could feel his eyes on me, “How long will you be able to play?”

I winked, holding the door open, “As long as you want, bud. I don’t have to study tonight.”

He dropped his backpack to the floor, swinging in front of me, eyes bright. “Really?”

“Pinkie promise.” I looked over his head to Garrett, who had just about finished emptying all the bags. He’d been watching us from the second we walked in and met my eyes.

“Hey, bud, you remember our neighbor, Garrett?”

Jamie whipped around, frantically looking where I’d indicated and, spotting the large bulk of a man in our kitchen, plastered his small back to my front.

“Why are you in our house?” It was phrased as a question, but the way he demanded it, it sounded more like a hidden order for Garrett to leave.

“He saw me struggling with the groceries and offered to help.” I stepped around him so I could see his face. He looked furious, but underneath it was alarm.

“That’s what I’m for.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. Next time, I’ll wake you up.” I pressed a loud, smacking kiss to his forehead, “But just know I’ll make you carry all the bags.”

I walked into the kitchen, Jamie hot on my heels, and tilted my head to look up at Garrett. I wouldn’t embarrass Jamie by apologizing for his rude question, but I hoped Garrett would understand he meant no harm.

His eyes searched my own, looking for an answer I didn’t know how to give. When he finally opened his mouth to speak, it wasn’t to me. “I noticed your gaming system over there. You any good?”

Jamie scoffed, arrogance coating the sound. “Yeah.”

Not fazed in the least by my child’s obvious dislike of him, Garrett nodded. “I have a few systems over on my side, but not that one. I haven’t seen one of those since I was young.”

I had to hand it to the man, he knew the right thing to say. Jamie’s eyes lit up, excitement and interest warring with his determination to stay angry. Jamie loved all things video game-related.

My dad owned a few systems, and they always played or watched walk-through videos when he visited. He wanted to ask about Garrett’s, the words were practically slamming against his lips, trying to get out.

Somehow Garrett managed not to laugh at the constipated-like expression on the kid’s face and took pity on him. He leaned against the bar, telling Jamie all about his gaming stash and what all he’d played.

I began putting the groceries away, listening to them chat and smiling as Jamie reluctantly thawed and probed our neighbor for details. Once finished, I headed over to see if the dogs were ready to come back inside when the front door flew open.

“Wench! I’m hungry, where’s my—oh. Well, hello there.” Layla’s eyes widened, and she rolled her lips into her mouth, kicking the door shut behind her. “Mads, there’s a man in the house.”

I exhaled, blowing out my cheeks. “Yes, this is Garrett. You’ve met him before.”

She raised a hand, stopping me. Dropping her bag by the door, she shucked off her shoes and pointed a finger at him.

“Hold up, isn’t he the one who called you a leech hidden in a pretty wrapper or some shit?” She cringed, her eyes cutting to Jamie. “I mean stuff.”

I gave her an exasperated look, and in my peripheral, I could see Garrett shifting as Jamie looked at him with narrowed eyes again.

Ignoring her question, I crossed my arms, letting my head fall back and addressing the ceiling. “Garrett, this is Layla.”

“Her wife. Sugar mama, if you will.”

Garrett widened his stance, accepting her challenge. “Do you often refer to your wife as a wench, Layla?”

She smirked, lowering her lashes over her eyes and fluttering them. “I have many pet names for her, but not all can be voiced in current company.”