Proving Paul's Promise

  “You shouldn’t,” he warns.

  I know I shouldn’t, but I am.

  I turn the key and let myself into the room. I find Friday washing her face.

  “What the fuck, Paul!” she cries. She turns back to the mirror and dabs beneath her eyes. She looks at me in the mirror. “Get out.”

  I close the door behind me and lean against it. “Why are you crying?”

  “I don’t know,” she bites out. But another tear slides down her cheek. “Fucking hormones,” she says as she swipes it away.

  All this because she has her period? I know better than to say that out loud. “Oh,” I say instead.

  She turns to face me, hitching her hip against the sink. She crosses her arms beneath her breasts, which pushes them up and makes little pillows over the top of that low-cut dress she’s wearing. My God. I look up at her face. She smirks at me. I like a smirking Friday a lot better than one who’s crying because I don’t know what do with tears. Not from her.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” I blurt out when she just glares at me.

  “Yes, you did.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “Fuck me, Friday,” I breathe. I swipe a hand down my face again and growl to myself.

  She faces the mirror and starts to put on her lipstick. “I tried to do that and you didn’t want to,” she says. She purses her lips and kisses toward the mirror. The move shoots straight to my dick. “So, you, Mister I Am Jealous, don’t get to tell me who I can and can’t sleep with.” She looks directly into my eyes in the mirror. “So, I can sleep with Garrett. I can sleep with Cody.” She throws up her hands. “Hell, I can sleep with both of them at the same time, if I want.” She glares at me. “And you don’t get to have any say-so about it.” She walks toward me. “You can’t say a word because you didn’t want it.” She gestures toward the front of her body. “You said no to all this, so you don’t get to have an opinion.”

  “I didn’t say no,” I mumble.

  “You kissed me and then you tried to take it back!” she yells.

  Okay, I like Friday yelling. I like it so much more than Friday crying. “I didn’t try to take it back!” I slap my palm against the wall, but she just looks at my hand, smirks, and rolls her eyes. “I just… Never mind.”

  “Just what?” she asks.

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s over and done with.”

  “Yep,” she says, letting her lips pop on the P. “Over. Done.” She dusts her hands together. “So you don’t get to go all Neanderthal when someone else kisses me.”

  “I just…” I shake my head. “I had something I needed to take care of.”

  “Don’t you mean somebody?” She smirks and shakes her head. “Was it Kelly you had to take care of? Heaven knows Kelly needs to come more than I do.”

  Did she just say come? I shake the thoughts away. They’re not going to get me anywhere.

  Friday tolerates my daughter’s mother, but I don’t think she’s ever really liked her. “It actually was Kelly I needed to take care of,” I say. I may as well lay all my shit bare. Friday cried, for God’s sake.

  She lets out a heavy breath. “You kissed me, and then you went and got some from Kelly?”

  Her voice is soft. She’s… What is she? Is she hurt?

  “No, I didn’t go and get some from Kelly. I went and broke things off with Kelly.” I take a step forward until I’m towering over her and she has to tip her head back to look at my face. “I had to go and tell her that I kissed you and that you rocked my fucking world.”

  She freezes, so I take a chance and put my arm around her, pulling her against me.

  “What?” she breathes. She turns her face up to mine.

  “I haven’t slept with Kelly since before I kissed you. I don’t want to sleep with Kelly. I have you on my fucking mind, and I can’t get you out. So, I went and broke things off with Kelly. Completely.”

  She blinks her brown eyes at me. Blink. Blink.

  “Then I came back to see you, but you were pissed. You wouldn’t let me in. You said ‘no fucking way, you stupid son of a bitch.’ And you told me to go home. So, I went. Alone.”

  Blink. Blink.

  “Kelly and I weren’t dating. We were just friends with benefits. Or parents with benefits. Whatever. Now we’re just Hayley’s parents.”

  Blink. Blink.

  “I went and told her that we couldn’t do that anymore, and she understood.”

  “You told her?” she whispers. “That you…what? What did you tell her?”

  “I told her that I can’t stop thinking about you.” I brush her hair back from her forehead. I kissed Friday that one time when I walked her home and she invited me inside, and we both knew what she was offering, but I don’t think I’ve ever just held her in my arms. I like it. She lays her palms flat on my chest, like she needs to steady herself.

  “I have a thing for you,” I admit. I wince inwardly because it sounds so lame.

  “A thing?”

  “A big thing.”

  Her gaze drops.

  “Not that thing.” Although now that she’s looking down at it, it’s ready to rise to attention. Fucking attention whore. I tip her chin up. “But,” I say.

  “But what?”

  “Then you showed up with that first douche. And then that second douche. And I had just changed my whole life for the possibility of you. But you had moved on. Quickly.” I drag my fingertips up and down her bare arms, and chill bumps rise. She shivers. “So, yeah, I’m mad. Sorry.”

  “You don’t sound sorry.”

  “I’m not.”

  She laughs, and the sound of it shoots straight to my heart.

  “Am I too late?” I ask. I wait, with my heart in my throat.

  She steps back from me. “Paul,” she says. Her voice cracks. “I’m so sorry.”

  I don’t need to hear any more. I go out and start my machine up and get back to work. I hear her move around in the shop, and I glance up at her every once in a while, but she gets busy with clients, drawing tattoos, and she ignores me. She doesn’t look in my direction. Not even once. Not for the whole rest of the night. And when it’s closing time, Logan volunteers to walk her home. I let him.

  Friday

  I didn’t even sleep last night. I just tossed and turned and thought about what Paul said to me yesterday. He basically asked me if I have feelings for him. I have lots of feelings for him. Some are easier to define than others.

  Sometimes he drives me up the wall, particularly when he sulks. Other times, he makes me laugh until my stomach hurts. And the way that he loves his family… That makes me ache inside. All those Reed boys together—they embody everything that I would want if I had been lucky enough to have a family. I watch Paul with his daughter and I almost melt into a puddle on the floor, because I know there’s nothing that Hayley could ever do to make him not love her. She could dance naked in the street. She could fall in with the wrong crowd. She could discover drugs and alcohol. Okay, so he would wring her neck for that, but he would still love her. She could even get pregnant at fifteen, and he would still love her. He would stand by her no matter what. That’s something I never had.

  I walk into the shop and wince when the bell over the door chimes. Paul comes out from the back of the shop wiping his hands on a towel and stops short. He looks everywhere but at me. “Morning,” he murmurs.

  “Good morning,” I say back. I drop my bag behind the counter and smooth my skirt with my hands. Paul’s gaze drops to my legs, and then he looks away. I’m glad he’s the only one here, because we really need to talk.

  He turns to go back to the rear of the shop, and I call his name. “Paul.” He stops, and I see his shoulders tense.

  He answers without looking back at me. “What?” He heaves a sigh.

  I walk toward him and lay my hand on his back. He tenses more, his muscles bunching up beneath my fingertips. “I’m sorry,” I say. “Please don’
t be angry at me.”

  “I’m not angry,” he bites out.

  I force out a laugh, but there’s no merriment in the sound. “You are so angry.”

  He turns around and looks down at me. “I’m jealous,” he says. “And, yeah, that makes me angry.”

  “You don’t have anything to be jealous about,” I tell him.

  “Keep your boyfriends out of here and I won’t be.”

  “They’re not my boyfriends.”

  He growls. “I don’t even want to know what they are.” He holds up a hand to stop me when I open my mouth. “Shut it,” he says. “Don’t even bring them up. I don’t want to discuss it.”

  I bite my lip to keep from talking and play with my lip piercing with my tongue. His gaze drops to it and stays there. I force my tongue back in my mouth.

  I toy with the hem of my dress. “Did you really break things off with Kelly?” I ask quietly. My voice is little more than a whisper, but I know he hears me because he swears under his breath.

  “Yes,” he grits out. “I did.”

  “So, are you going to go back now?” My cheeks are so hot I probably look like a clown.

  “Go back where?”

  “To Kelly.”

  “No, that’s over. It should have been over a long time ago. It was just easy to let it keep going.”

  “Oh. Was she okay with that?”

  I follow him into the back room and he makes himself busy putting ink supplies away in the cabinet. “She’s getting married, so yeah, she was fine with it.”

  “She’s engaged?” What the fuck?

  “Yes.”

  “Did you know?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you heartbroken?”

  “No.”

  “Are you going to answer with more than one word?”

  “When you ask me something that’s even remotely your business, I might.” He glares at me over his shoulder.

  “How much longer are you going to be a dickwad?”

  “For as long as it takes for you to leave me alone about Kelly.” He smiles at me. “Quit being so nosy.” His fake smile falls away, and he glowers some more. “You don’t even like Kelly.”

  “I like Kelly,” I protest.

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “I’m not stupid, Friday. You clam up every time she comes in here.”

  I sit down across from him in a rolling chair. My skirt slides up my thighs and his eyes land there, but I don’t care. I’m wearing fishnet stockings. He runs a hand through his blond hair and jerks on it when he gets to the tips. Then he closes his eyes and takes a breath.

  “I don’t dislike her,” I say.

  “Mmm hmm,” he hums.

  “Did you tell her about the kiss?”

  “Yes.”

  “In detail?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t know how to talk about that.”

  “What do you mean?” I am so confused.

  “Do we really have to rehash this?”

  “Yes.”

  “For how long?”

  “Until we’re done with it.”

  “I’m done with it now.”

  “Fuck you.”

  He chuckles. Finally. “Fuck you,” he tosses back. “Look,” he says, “I didn’t mean to ruin everything. Let’s just go back to how it was before.”

  “Before what?”

  “Before I kissed you.”

  “If I remember correctly, I kissed you.”

  He grins. “Yeah, you’re right.”

  “I thought I was wrong once, but it turned out I was mistaken.” I shrug my shoulders.

  “Friday,” he growls, but at least he’s laughing now.

  “What?”

  “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”

  “Probably not.”

  He goes back to unloading the box and putting the ink away.

  “So, what did you tell Kelly?” I ask quietly.

  “I told her that I couldn’t fuck her anymore.”

  “That’s all it was? Fucking.”

  He looks up at my mouth and stares at it until I start to squirm in my seat.

  “What?” I ask.

  “It tears me up inside when you use dirty words. You should do it more often.” He grins at me.

  “Like you could stop me.” I snort. Everyone knows I have a colorful vocabulary. My mother called it a potty mouth. When I’m around Paul’s daughter or Matt’s kids, I have to work really hard not to use bad language.

  He rolls his eyes.

  “So…” I say really slowly, rolling out the O.

  He quirks an eyebrow. “So?”

  “So, about fucking Kelly.”

  He tosses a bottle of ink a little too hard. “I don’t want to talk about fucking Kelly.”

  “Was it fucking Kelly or was it making love to Kelly?” I wince because I know that sounds stupid. “That’s a dumb question,” I murmur.

  “No.” He shakes his head. “That’s actually a good question. It was scratching an itch. It was easy. You get used to one person because you know what she likes and how to get there. And she knows what you like and how to get you there.” He shrugs. “It was easy.”

  “Do you still love her?”

  “Nope.”

  “How do you know?”

  Suddenly, he grabs the edge of my chair, falls to his knees, and rolls me into him. With one gentle hand on each of my knees, he parts my thighs and wiggles until we’re chest to chest. My breath stalls. He’s an inch from my face when he speaks, and his breath becomes mine. “Because you’re all I can think about. I wake up with you on my mind and go to sleep with you in my dreams. I wouldn’t be having these intense thoughts about you if I were in love with anybody else. I’m not that kind of guy.” He kisses the end of my nose. “I know you already know this about me. I’m a stand-up man, Friday, and I’m loyal.”

  “I want to tell you I feel the same,” I say. I close my eyes, and he startles me when he places a kiss on each of my eyelids in turn.

  “What’s stopping you?”

  “That guy I was with yesterday,” I say. I put a hand on his chest to push him back, but I don’t want him to go anywhere.

  He leans back on his heels, but he leaves his hands on my knees. I close my legs, because without him there, I just feel…empty.

  “Is he your boyfriend?”

  “No.”

  “Then why was he kissing you?”

  “So, I could make you jealous,” I blurt out. I cover my face with my hand because I’m mortified to admit that.

  “Well, fuck. It worked.”

  Why doesn’t that make me feel good? “I thought you kissed me and then crawled back into bed with Kelly,” I admit.

  “I can see how you’d think that.”

  “But that’s done?”

  “Done.” He dusts his hands together. “You want to have dinner with me tonight?” he asks. He brings my fingertips to his lips and regards me over the top of my hand. He lingers there long enough for his warm breath to tickle up my arm and shoot desire straight to my girlie parts.

  “Um, well,” I say.

  “What now?” he asks.

  “Cody and Garrett,” I start. I don’t even know how to tell him this part.

  “The guy from yesterday and the guy from last week?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Who are they to you?”

  “Well,” I say. I close my eyes and steel my heart for the next part. “One of them might have gotten me pregnant.” I open my mouth to tell him about the surrogacy. But he interrupts before a sound can move past my lips.

  “Fuck!” he swears as he gently shoves me back from him. My chair rolls backward until it softly bumps the wall. He jumps to his feet.

  “I didn’t know you had feelings for me at the time!” I yell.

  The bell over the door to the shop tinkles, and Paul yells, “Out!” at the top of his
lungs. I see Sam back out the door, with Logan behind him. Sam is explaining to Logan why they’re leaving when they just got here. At least as well as he can. He probably has no idea.

  “I won’t even know if it’s positive for nine more days!” I yell.

  “You let me pour my fucking heart out when you were fucking those two guys?”

  My gut twists. “You think that highly of me, huh?” I ask.

  “What else am I supposed to think?” he yells. Paul never yells. He has this quiet way of leading.

  “Nothing!” I yell back. “You’re supposed to think nothing!”

  I get up and smooth my dress. Paul just glares at me. Then he looks at my stomach. I lay a protective hand over it.

  “I didn’t know you had those kinds of feelings for me,” I say.

  “I liked it better when I thought you were a lesbian,” he says.

  “Yeah,” I toss back. “Me too.” I jerk a thumb toward the door. “You had better go let your brothers in.” All of them are pressed against the front window with their hands wrapped around their eyes so they can see in, even Matt, who must’ve showed up while we were yelling.

  “You go let them in,” he says. And he stomps toward the back of the shop.

  Paul

  It was so much easier lusting after Friday when I thought she liked to eat pussy as much as I do. I could put my arm around her and pretend like the scent of her didn’t shoot straight to my dick, since I couldn’t do anything about the attraction anyway. But now all I can think about is putting my arm around her and having her perfume shoot straight to my dick. Then I think about kissing her again. Then pulling her on top of me and letting her ride me until we’re both sweaty and satisfied.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

  I have rotten luck. And even worse timing, apparently.

  Friday could be pregnant. That means she’s been getting it on with one or the other, or both, of those bozos. She’s been having a great time while I’ve been wearing my hand out to thoughts of her.

  I get a bottle of water from the fridge and tip it up, closing my eyes as I drink it gulp after gulp.

  The privacy curtain I pulled shut makes a clinking sound, and I keep drinking with my eyes closed. I know it’s not her because my skin doesn’t start to sizzle. When I open my eyes, I find Matt leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. He has a smirk on his face that annoys the hell out of me.