Chapter Eleven
Darren
That first night Jake was in Palm Springs, when I’d asked him to check in with me, I think I was half expecting to get a dick pic or some suggestive text that might help one thing lead to another between his hotel room and wherever I could find a moment alone. Then I remembered it wasJake, and I expected nothing that explicit. I ended up at the diner after my shift, and scrolled through my phone for other people’s pics within other people’s texts, before moving to one of my apps for the chance to find someone new.
None of it held my interest for long, and I found myself rereading Jake’s messages instead. There was a little about mahi-mahi and wine, and a lot about Lucy’s discovery of the videos I’d blasted on the bar’s social media accounts without thinking he’d see them. I couldn’t gauge his reaction, and tried not to care. Then I wondered whether sendinghima dick pic might help.
Sage threw an ice cube at my head—a bad habit she picked up from me a long time ago—and I spent the rest of the night with my phone face down and every app closed.
I wish I’d stayed away from it for so much longer.
Typically lazy, I was still in bed late Friday morning when I started messing around on my phone. I’ve always been an attention seeker, and I’m sure it’s why I was eager to look at everything I’d posted the night before. There’d be likes and shares and comments, and I’d feed off it before I even had breakfast. But then my stomach turned.
The timing was weird, and pieces of the past few weeks returned to me in waves. My recent habit of checking the social media presence Adrian had helped us grow. Jake’s questions at the gallery grand opening. My need to post a video my friends were unlikely to watch. Beau’s big mouth calling me by name on that video, though maybe it didn’t matter.
Maybe my father was always going to find me.
Hey Darren. I’m not too far from Trailhead. Would love to talk about stuff you have going on at the bar. I’ll DM you soon
The comment was left by Andrew Barrett. Drew. The name enough to give me goosebumps, and the man someone I don’t know. A man I’ve never needed to know. A man who so fucking casually made his presence known—made hisclosenessknown—without giving me the choice to ignore it. He’d said he’ll contact me privately if I don’t stop him first, but I hate conflict more than almost anyone I know, and I haven’t been able to do anything but brace myself since.
Jake’s visiting his daughter. My father wants to talk to his son.
It’s been two days since I read the comment, and I haven’t said a word about it to anyone, but I have the night off and I’m crawling out of my skin and I need things I’m only supposed to want.
You still having fun in the desert?
He could already be on the road, I suppose. It’s what I tell myself when he doesn’t respond to my text within the first ten minutes. Twenty. Forty. But then, when I’m in the middle of my second beer and reality tv toxic enough to make my life feel downright boring, I catch the notification from the corner of my eye.
Yeah just finished an early dinner. Returning to real life soon.
I should leave it at that, but I rarely do.Can you come over?
Tonight?
Yes
To your house?
Yes
You don’t invite men over.
No
He calls then, and I probably should’ve predicted as much, everything about Jake screaming that he’d rather talk than type. I’ll give away more than I already have if I speak, but I answer because his voice will help even if he uses it to tell me no.
“Hey,” I start, immediately clearing my throat. “It’s fine.”
“Areyou?”
“I’m sure you’re tired after your long weekend. We can catchup on Thursday night.”
“Darren. What happened?”
“You have to work in the morning,” I say.
“I do, yeah. So, I can’t stay the night.”