"Oh, that's good." She glances between the both of us. "Why are you laughing, did I miss something?"
"Logan was pretending to like me in front of Tucker to piss him off."
She takes another sip. "Oh, I know." She fist-pumps Logan. "Well-played. You really got the old jealousy bug ticking in his bones."
"You knew?" I shout and am quickly hushed by people around us so I whisper, "You knew?"
"Of course." She shrugs her knowledge off. "Classic best-friend move made by a guy. He couldn't have executed it any better." They laugh at my expense.
"I hate you both." I cross my arms over my chest and try not to pout. "Not like it helped anyway."
"He still hasn't talked to you?" Adalyn asks, confused. "Not even a text?"
"Nothing." I bite the inside of my cheek, willing away the tears that threaten to fall.
The silence is killing me. I miss him. I miss his rough, sleep-ridden voice in the mornings, his work clothes that cling to every last inch of muscle on his body. I miss his kisses, his strong arms wrapped around me, the way he would whisper in my ear, igniting my entire body. And mostly, I miss his heart that seemed to care deeply for me.
I shrug, putting on a brave face. "Maybe it's for the better. I may have a job panning out in Boston. Maybe a new city is just what I need."
A fresh beginning, something far away from the place I've recently called home. `
Chapter Twenty-Four
TUCKER
"Fucking pizza," I mutter, pushing the box to the side. Four fucking nights in a row of the stale shit. Who ever said you can't get sick of pizza is wrong. I'm all cheesed out. Three weeks living off hotel breakfast, soggy sandwiches, and pizza at night has left me more irritated than when I was told I had to report to Pittsburgh for some bullshit management training. Honestly, I think Julius is required to go to these courses for his business but sends me instead to complete his dirty work.
And what makes it even worse? I'm too fucking far away from Emma.
I had everything planned out on how to fix this shit between us, but my quick departure screwed everything up and the last thing I want to do is try to fix this over the phone. So instead, I've taken this time to journal.
I know . . . journal.
I've never picked up a pen and thought about writing down my feelings, but that's what I've been doing, every night. Writing it all out, bleeding my emotions through my pen and onto the paper. And do you know what I've come to realize since I've started journaling? The emotional attachment I have to Sadie has a lot to do with how she took care of me when I needed someone to love me, to watch over me, and not with the love we once shared. Funny how long it took me to realize that.
The baby, well, my need to travel down the opposite path my mother paved for me is overwhelming. The baby gave me an opportunity to love something other than myself, to show the world that despite my upbringing, I can be a man, a provider, a responsible and loving parent. But Sadie helped me. We weren't ready, and maybe this time I've spent building my career will help make me an even better father when another opportunity presents itself.
The silence between Emma and me has also been for her benefit. I needed to get my head on straight. I want to be the man she deserves, the man that will provide for her, the man that gives her all of his heart without anything standing in the way. Because I know with one hundred percent certainty. That's what I want. Her.
My phone rings, pulling me away from Hayden's hockey game that's on the small flat-screen TV in front of me.
Racer.
"What's up, man?"
"I missssssss you!" he cries like a dickhead in the phone. "I need an Oatmeal Creme Pie in my mouth."
"You know you can buy them yourself, right?"
"I would but I'm saving my money."
"You're such a cheap fuck."
He laughs on the other end of the phone. "I fucking know it and wear that title with pride."
"Please tell me you've at least stopped taking toilet paper from the Port-o-potties."
"Why the hell would I do that? If I have to go in there to take a piss, I'm at least going to get something out of it." He laughs as if he just thought of something. "Oh shit, Julius went into one of the shit boxes today and came out raging in red, pants unbuckled, yelling about there never being toilet paper. I fucking fell over laughing. Smalls got it on his Snapchat. Did you see it?"
"I don't do social media, you know that."
"Fuck, you're such a grandpa."
"Is there a reason for this phone call, or did you call just to dick with me?" I put my phone on speaker and lay it against my chest as I put both my hands behind my head and watch the muted game play out.