Need You for Keeps (Heroes of St. Helena, #1)(78)

Suffocating.

He pulled on jeans and a T-shirt and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for the calm to come, but it didn’t. Shay was his calm and she was gone.

Feeling more restless than ever, he stood and made his way to the kitchen, desperate for a beer.

He entered the kitchen, letting out a resigned huff when he saw Adam sitting at the table, kicked back, legs propped up on the chair opposite him, eating Jonah’s dinner.

“Remind me to change the locks,” Jonah said, not pausing on his way to the fridge. He grabbed a beer, then, looking at the way Adam’s nosy ass was rooted to Jonah’s chair, grabbed another.

“Then who would feed Kitty Fantastic when you work three twelve-hour shifts in a row?”

Although Mr. Gillis was demanding his cats back, the sheriff was still looking into Shay’s claim, which meant the kittens stayed where they were—for now. He’d asked Jonah if he wanted to take on the case, but Jonah had recused himself—then submersed himself in paperwork.

Adam cracked open the beer and took a long pull. He smacked his lips, then grimaced. “I liked the other kind better.”

So did Jonah. Only he was out of it and Shay wasn’t likely to buy him any more.

Mew, the cat said, jumping up on the table. Adam tore off a piece of Jonah’s pesto chicken dinner and let the furball eat it, right out of his hand.

“Not on the table.” Jonah lifted the cat and placed it in his lap. “And the sauce isn’t good for his digestion.” And Adam feeding Kitty by hand wasn’t good for Jonah’s state of mind. If anyone was going to feed the damn cat, it was him.

Adam stopped, beer midway to his mouth, and laughed. “My bad, bro. No more pesto for the cat.”

Jonah ignored him and grabbed Kitty Fantastic a piece of cheese from the fridge and slipped his antibiotics inside. The cat inhaled it without chewing, then curled up on Jonah’s lap.

Jonah had never wanted the damn cat, but now that he’d become used to the pest, he couldn’t imagine losing him too. Only he might.

“Why are you here?” Jonah asked, suddenly ready to find some paperwork.

“You never call, you never text, I’m starting to get a complex.” Adam placed his dirty knife on the table, in the same spot the cat’s paws had been. “You haven’t even commented on a single cat picture I’ve posted on your wall. That hurts, man.”

He hadn’t been on Facebook since everything went down. He hadn’t wanted to see Shay’s picture and couldn’t stomach seeing what the fallout was for her. “Maybe you should just un-like me.”

Adam put a hand to his forehead. “Unfriend. It’s called unfriending. And I just might. I’m not big on martyrs having access to my page. They always end up posting those snarky e-cards with the 1950s couples that are worse than cat pictures.”

Martyr? “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“That ever since San Francisco you’ve been walking around as if you don’t think you deserve to move on. You chase away every great thing that comes your way, afraid you might actually find peace,” Adam said. “I get that what happened was rough, but it’s what we sign up for. It’s a part of the job.”

“A kid dying is part of the job?”

“Yeah,” Adam said. “A shitty part, but a part that we can’t escape. It doesn’t mean that you don’t deserve to be happy.”

“I’m happy.”

Adam wasn’t buying it. Neither was Jonah anymore. He had been happy. Shay made him happy, but she also drove him crazy. And she’d lied to him.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you and the cute neighbor, but you’d be an idiot to chase her away.”

“I didn’t chase. She walked on her own.” Right over his trust, his faith in people, and his heart. Adam looked at Jonah as though he thought he was an idiot—and an *. He probably was. “And why would I take advice from a guy whose longest relationship was staying the night?”

“Because you’re not me,” Adam said, slamming his beer down. “You are the real deal, Jonah. The kind of guy who puts everyone else first, the kind of guy who does what’s right, all the time, no matter how hard it is. The kind of guy who never gives up on people no matter how bad they f*ck up.”

Adam lowered his voice and closed his eyes. “Jesus, you watched me tell Dad that I would never want to be anything like him and then he dropped dead, right in front of us.”

Jonah closed his eyes and slowly exhaled. He’d tried to avoid thinking about that day his whole life. There were always too many what-ifs that followed. They’d all dealt with a huge blow when they lost their father. Jonah had become the man of the family, Dax had withdrawn more into himself, Frankie had been more lost than ever, and Adam . . . Adam had taken it the hardest.

“You were a kid,” Jonah said. “And Dad could be a self-righteous ass when he wanted to be. Loving him wasn’t easy, for any of us, but in the end he knew you loved him.”

“I don’t know that and I’ll never get the chance to know the truth.” Adam pounded his chest with his fist. “I carry that with me every f*cking day. And that kind of weight is paralyzing.” Adam shook his head. “Don’t be a self-righteous ass, Jonah. Don’t make Shay live like that.”