Overtime(72)

His heart sank. “But you haven’t eaten,” he said, grasping at anything to keep her there. He wasn’t done talking. There had to be something to reach her, to make her realize how shitty a place he’d been in and how he could never have been the man she needed.

She made a face. “I’m not hungry.”

Oh yeah, he was in deep shit. Those words never left her lips. She was always hungry.

“Kace, please don’t leave.”

But she was already getting out of the booth. He took her hand, stopping her, and she looked down at him, adjusting her purse as he held her hand, his thumb slowly covering each bump of her knuckles on her hand.

“Please,” he asked, but she shook her head.

“I need space, Jordie. Please.” She slid her hand from his, but instead of walking away, she leaned over, pressing her lips to his cheek. He closed his eyes, his hand coming up to cup her face, holding there, breathing in her scent. He didn’t want to let her go, but he knew he had to. He had to trust that she’d see that he meant everything he said. He had to.

“I’ll wait,” he said. “I’ll wait forever,” he whispered, his lips ever so close to hers.

She pulled away, tears rushing from her eyes, and then she was gone.

Slowly, he let his head fall before letting out a long breath. That didn’t go like he’d hoped it would. He’d been convinced that just getting her there was the key. Once he said his peace, she’d take him back in a heartbeat. But oh, how wrong he was.

“Um, you still eating?”

He looked up at the waitress, sniffing back his own tears. He felt like a failure, something he hated feeling. “No.”

Their waitress made a face before gathering their plates. “Do you want anything else?”

A Corona and, hell, even a margarita.

But despite his craving, or better yet his crutch for getting rid of the feelings he was feeling, he shook his head. “No, thank you. Just the check.”

She grumbled something in Spanish before laying the check on the table. Retrieving his phone out of his pocket, he called for a taxi and laid two twenties on the table for the food they didn’t eat. Getting up, he headed outside for some fresh air and sat on the bench to wait for the taxi, replaying the whole interaction. But everything went the way he feared it would. He knew she wouldn’t want to hear about him with other women, but he had to be honest. He told her everything he was feeling. Everything, and yet she still walked away.

Kicking at the cement, he let out a long breath He should have just ridden home with her, tried some more. But what else could he say? Plus, she needed time. She needed to think, and he would give her the space she wanted.

No matter how much he didn’t want to.

She’d come back to him.

She would.

He hoped.



The whole ride back to the house, Jordie watched the world speed by and wondered what he was going to do if she didn’t give him another chance. He wondered if she’d cried the whole way home, like he wanted to. Wondered if she thought he was weak, pathetic, like he felt. He hadn’t done right by her, and maybe he didn’t deserve another chance. Maybe this was his punishment for all the wrong he’d done.

Not having the one person he wanted.

When the cab stopped in front of the house, he paid and glanced out at it. It was everything that Karson and Lacey wanted, full of love and happiness. He wanted this. He wanted it so damn bad, he could taste it. Getting out, he noticed that Karson was sitting on the porch, Mena Jane in his lap. Groaning inwardly, he wasn’t sure he could do another drag-out with Karson. His heart was still pounding in his chest. The look of such pain in Kacey’s eyes haunted him. He couldn’t deal with his best friend breaking up with him too.

He wanted to go to the side door, but he felt that would make him a coward. Before he could make the decision though, Karson hollered out at him.

“How’s your face?” Karson’s lip curved up as he slowly danced in the chair with Mena.

Jordie didn’t feel like laughing, but he did as he headed toward Karson, brushing his fingers along his swollen lip. It hurt, but it was nothing compared to what he was feeling inside. “Sore.”

“Good,” Karson decided as Jordie sat next to him. He reached over, taking Mena from Karson and kissing her head.

“For protection,” he teased and Karson scoffed.

“I’m not gonna hit you again,” he said but then paused. “But I’m not saying sorry either, like Lacey told me to.”

“Wouldn’t expect you to. I deserved it.”

Karson nodded. “Why didn’t you just tell me? Why did you hide the truth like that? I asked you if it was serious and you laughed me off.”

“Because I didn’t want it to be serious. If it was serious, then that meant I could hurt her.”

“But you still hurt her,” Karson said, wringing his fingers together. “And I really don’t understand why you’d do that. I thought you cared about her.”

“I do. I love her, man,” he said, and Karson’s eyes widened. “I do, but I wasn’t thinking right. I didn’t want to feel what she made me feel because I didn’t think what she wanted was in my cards.” He leaned down, kissing the top of Mena’s little head. “It still may not be in my cards, but I’ve decided I want it to be. I want your life, bro. I want the wife, the kids, the happiness. I’m done being lonely and drunk and living because I have to. I want to live for something. For someone and for myself.”