More Than Love You Shayla Black Read Online
Chapter ONE
Griff
How the fuck did I get hither?
Information technology'due south 9 thirty at nighttime. By at present, I'chiliad commonly curled upwardly in bed with my laptop and some piece of work…or another meaningless one-dark stand. Instead, I'thou rushing downward Highway 30, the breeze from the open window whipping through my pilus as I speed through the nearly hour-long journey toward Kihei. Later more than three years, I'g going to see the ane woman I oasis't managed to forget.
And the son I never knew I had.
Holy shit, I'm a father. That still hasn't truly registered since I constitute out ten minutes agone. Now I can't accomplish them fast enough. I dodge a boring tourist and run a yellow light. Yes, I'm breaking multiple traffic laws. And I don't intendance. I but demand to get there.
So what? a vox in my caput whispers.
I have no idea what I'g going to say to my ex-girlfriend, Britta. Well, that'south not exactly truthful. I intend to effigy out why the hell I never heard about her pregnancy. Once, I loved that woman. I lived with her. I wanted to marry her.
And then I got stupid. And she let me.
Everything has been fucked upwardly since.
I push the by behind me and try to recall alee. My first priority is to finally meet our boy. I'll insist on it. My blood brother says Jamie looks a lot similar me. Based on Maxon's pictures, I agree. And I can't wait to meet him.
I've missed then much—pregnancy, nativity, commencement yr, get-go steps, first words… I'grand shocked by how badly that fact is grinding up my guts. Kids were never on my radar. They were beautiful—for someone else. I wasn't interested in wiping noses or butts. But after one wait at the movie of that little boy with my face and his female parent'south blue optics, I felt stunned. And I felt protective. That snapshot of him smiling at the toy truck he clutched in his chubby fist completely changed my earth. Information technology fired upwards my decision not to miss some other day of James Tucker Reed's life.
Oh, he doesn't take my last name yet. Simply he will. I'm going to practise whatever information technology takes to brand damn certain of that.
In my pocket, my phone buzzes. I'm hoping it's not a client. Though information technology's true Realtors are never actually off the clock, especially when 1 sells multimillion-dollar estates, I am not in the frame of mind to deal with work correct now. Thankfully, when I glance at the brandish continued via Bluetooth to my Porsche 911 Carrera convertible to see who'south calling, I'm not surprised by the name that'due south popped up. I've been expecting this.
I close the window and press the push to talk. "Hello, Keeley."
"Griff, is your meeting with Maxon over? What happened?"
Our reunion a few minutes ago was the first fourth dimension I've spoken to my brother in over three years, so it'southward momentous. We used to be close, best friends and business partners—before I fucked everything upward. Tonight'due south reconciliation wouldn't have happened without Keeley and her grudging agreement to dabble in a lilliputian corporate espionage and spy on Maxon for me. She also savage for him, despite the fact he hadn't nonetheless grown by his clueless douchebag phase. Merely I plant out tonight that he fell for her, also. I'm not telling Keeley anything about my brother's conclusion to win her back and persuade her to marry him just yet. She needs fourth dimension with her family in Phoenix to think. Then, if she decides to return to Maui—and Maxon—I'll help my older brother with his sweeping romantic gesture to slide a ring on her finger.
"Yes. Maxon and I talked about the split, the major reasons nosotros stopped getting along. Actually, nosotros talked about a lot of things." And it felt damn good after so much ugliness and strife. "We fabricated up. We've decided that, instead of being competitors, we're going to pursue the Stowe estate together. And if the organization works well, nosotros'll recollect near making the partnership permanent once again."
"That'southward great!" She sounds genuinely happy for me…but I hear the lamentable note in her phonation. "It must have felt so fantastic to be with Maxon, talking business once more, catching up…"
"Yep." I sort through the meeting in my head, call up of details that might cheer her up. "He seems dissimilar. I have you to thank."
Keeley doesn't say anything for a long moment, which tells me something about her mood. She's never subdued.
"Don't give thanks me. I really hoped he'd figured out what was of import, but, Griff…I tin't modify him. He has to want to be a unlike human. Just like you did."
She'south absolutely correct. But Maxon truly seems to take grown as a person. Hopefully, she'll come home and see that.
Keeley sighs. "It's and then cracking that you and your blood brother are talking over again. At least something adept came out of the mess I made with him. Please exist happy. Subsequently everything that's happened, yous deserve it."
She's beingness kind. I don't deserve shit. I also know that arguing with Keeley virtually this is pointless.
And how is it possible my GPS says I yet have another thirty minutes before I reach my destination?
I remember back over the final few weeks, everything that's happened… Then a realization hits me. She'south been my confidant and best friend for more than two years. And then why would she stab me in the back like this?
"You knew I had a son, didn't you?" I rake a hand through my hair. "How fucking long have you kept that from me?"
"And then Maxon told you near Jamie?" she breathes. "That'due south practiced. Y'all need to—"
"How long?" No reply. The interminable moments are shredding my absolutely thin patience. "Goddamn it, Keeley…"
"Nearly 3 weeks. I'm sorry," she rushes to add. "I hope you'll forgive me for not telling yous."
That'southward asking a lot. Keeley knows I take deep trust problems. I oasis't told her the whole reason why, though.
Hell, I haven't told anyone.
"Three fucking weeks?" I bark. "What the hell? He's my son. Why would you keep him from me?"
"If I'd told you the minute I establish out, you would have confronted Britta immediately and messed up everything I was building with Maxon for you and… I really simply did what I thought was best in the situation." She pauses. "Wait, it sounds as if y'all're in your machine. Please tell me you're heading straight home."
I hear what she's saying. She'south probably fifty-fifty right. Everything would take blown upward in my face if I'd jumped Britta's case three weeks ago. There's still a high likelihood it will this evening. On the other paw, all I can think of is that if I had known sooner, I might have endured a little less misery and might have been involved a fleck more than in Jamie's childhood.
"I value my best friend as well much to lie."
Unlike some people. The subtext hangs there.
"C'mon, Griff. I would never intentionally hurt you. You know that."
Fuck. I do. I take to take a deep breath, count to five, and remind myself that Keeley is goose egg like the people I used to know. Once I take, I wish I could take the biting words back. Y'all'd think later the misery I've brought down on myself by failing to trust that I might accept learned. Only no, my knee-jerk certainty that someone is fucking me is sometimes instant and unavoidable. In the back of my head, I expect people will shit on me. And then I strike before they do. Sometimes before I even recall. Damn it. I have to end the bitterness that'southward been rotting me for half my life and start treatment it, along with my shock and frustration about Jamie. The commencement step is to repent to Keeley.
"I do. I'm sorry." I wince. "I'm an donkey. You know this near me."
"Sometimes 'ass' is putting it nicely. At least you listened and didn't hang upwards."
For me, that's progress. Refusing to hear a word of their defense was the disservice I did to Maxon and Britta simply over three years agone. "I'thou trying to learn."
"I know. This evening has been a lot for you. But not everyone is as forgiving as I am.
If you're heading to see Britta considering you want to run into Jamie, you tin't handle this similar a dumb ass." Her voice softens.
"Y'all're right."
"When Maxon first told me about him, I didn't say anything because I genuinely believed that if we could go your blood brother on your side, he wouldn't interfere if you lot tried to include Jamie—and Britta—in your life. But 3 weeks ago, you would accept barged in, temper blazing, and asked questions after. Maxon would take become a roadblock. And you would have destroyed any path to beingness with the people you need most."
I tap my thumb against my steering wheel in agitation. Keeley is right. My caput knows it. The balance of me is still reeling and I tin can't quite admit it aloud. "What do I do next?"
"Turn your car around and go habitation."
"Not happening. I'thousand already years belatedly as information technology is."
"Merely at present isn't smart. You lot haven't had time to procedure the shock."
"Waiting to meet my son isn't the answer!" But even if I lay optics on him tonight, how exercise I recoup for not beingness in that location for him since nascence? "I've got to make this right ASAP."
Keeley sighs. "I'm sure in your shoes I'd experience the same. Just go easy on Britta. Don't assume the worst."
I'll do my best. "Maxon swears Britta tried to tell me about the babe. I don't know how or when or…"
"I think you need to believe him."
Afterward declining to trust my brother near the business bargain that broke u.s.a. up, I can't call him a liar now. "Okay, so Britta tried to tell me."
How did I not hear or understand her?
"Maxon said she wrote y'all a letter."
"That'due south a pretty fucking impersonal style to tell a human he's nigh to become a father."
"What choice did you requite her, Griff?"
There Keeley goes again, shoving the inconvenient truth in my face up. After our breakdown, I rejected Britta's phone calls and deleted her urgent voice mails. Her only alternative was to put a postage stamp on a missive and drop it to me via USPS.
God, I was such a stupid fuck. I wish I had a exercise-over on the craptastic days that blew up my life.
"I never got the letter. I have no idea what happened to it." Merely I'1000 start to accept my suspicions.
"I told Maxon that." She pauses. "When you left your brother a few minutes ago, did y'all mention that y'all were heading to Britta's house?"
"Not in so many words but I'k sure he can read between the lines."
Some other suspension. I know Keeley; she'southward gearing up to ask something large. "How will you feel when you see her again?"
Isn't that a great question? Before I saw Britta last month at a eating place with some Hawaiian dude in a accommodate who all but fondled her in public, I would have sworn I was over her. Immune. I was skilful at lying to myself. But that nighttime, when I saw him touch her, I wanted to rip his confront off with my blank easily. What ate at me more than was that Britta didn't detect me at all.
"I spent a long time thinking she betrayed me to help my blood brother shut a huge deal behind my back. Now that I know she didn't, I owe her an apology. More than than one, really. But I'g so fucking furious." Not at her just at life. At circumstance. At all the things I can't go back and alter. By and large, at myself.
I endeavor to milk shake it off. Tonight is about Jamie. How I feel near Britta doesn't matter anymore. Nosotros've both moved on—in theory. She has a new boyfriend, and I'll try to become along with this dude and refrain from committing murder.
No promises.
"When y'all see her, listen. Don't brand snap judgments. Agree your atmosphere. Breathe through your anger. Yelling at her volition accomplish nothing. In fact, take the rest of your bulldoze to collect your thoughts. If y'all want to be a office of your son'southward life, it'south important for you to be strategic."
I hear the soothing, rational note in her voice. She uses it when she's trying to talk me off the ledge. That's been a lot these last few years. I'1000 grateful every day she was answering the phones for that useless therapist I was seeing for a while. Keeley is style smarter than the bad doctor. She's helped me so much. And she e'er gives the right advice…even when I don't desire to hear information technology.
"Thanks. I'k on it. How are things in Phoenix?"
"Fine. It'south good to see Mom and Phil. They're so tan from their trip to the S Pacific. The pictures they snapped are gorgeous!"
"You're envious?"
"Yeah," she spouts as if that'south obvious.
"Um, you live in Hawaii." When she laughs, I smile with her until we both sober. "Are you lot coming back?"
She's quiet for a long moment. "I don't know. I suspect your blood brother and I both need to do some thinking. I can't get a articulate head when, every fourth dimension I turn around, I meet places we've been and…" She sighs. "I'g sure information technology sounds dizzy, but I'm not fix to handle it."
"Not silly at all." I remember the destruction of existence on this goddamn island and stumbling into someplace every twenty-four hour period that reminded me of Britta and what we used to share.
"Thank you. I left you a little something in your CD actor when you lot dropped me off at the airport."
I hesitate. "Should I be afraid? It'southward not more meditation music to humping grasshoppers, is it?"
Keeley laughs at me again like she can't decide whether to slap me upside the head or merely exist amused. "No. It was cicadas, and we don't know that they were humping, goof."
"Nosotros don't know that they weren't, either. Information technology sounded like an insect orgy."
I hear a whole lot of what am I going to practice with you? in her laugh. "You know music helps me interpret feelings—or give advice—when I tin can't detect the correct words. So stop giving me a hard time and listen to what I left yous, okay?"
I'm sure it'due south something meaningful that volition endeavour to move me forward, etc. She knows I find that shit painful. Why won't she let me wallow similar a good friend would? Considering that's not her manner. Probably why she is my friend.
"All right," I grumble. "I will."
"I wish I was there to make tonight easier on yous. I really am trying to help."
"I know." And I would have been lost without her friendship years ago. "Thanks."
"Don't lose sight of what you want out of the chat. Stick to topics that will help your cause."
In other words, don't get stupid and flay Britta open up with my precipitous natural language. "I won't."
"Uh-huh. Let me put it in Griff-speak. Go along your shit together or you lot're not going to get what yous want. Telephone call me after."
"I will. Seriously, cheers for everything."
"You can thank me by straightening out your life and finally being happy."
Wouldn't that be nice? Sure. I'g just not holding my breath.
I pass the next few miles of the bulldoze to the music Keeley left me. I should have guessed she'd discover the perfect song for the occasion. Her knowledge of music is insane, spanning genres and decades. You could scratch off what I know well-nigh information technology with a penny. I never really paid attention to all the melodic angst on the radio until her. At present I admit, I like it.
She left a sticky notation on the case that reads Recall Well-nigh THIS FOR ME, PLEASE? I tin can't decline.
The opening strums of guitar on the first vocal are iconic. Then Eddie Vetter's voice shouts a piffling "Hey." I already know this song is "Black" past Pearl Jam. A lot of people remember this tune is sexual. If you listen to the lyrics, information technology's depressing as hell. But it too describes where I'yard stuck. Once, my globe totally revolved around my sun, Britta. Subsequently the split, the air I tasted and breathed took a turn, all right. A nosedive into hell. My biting easily are still chafing beneath the clouds of what was everything to me. All my pictures, my memories, accept been done in black. Keeley'southward "subtle" way of proverb I've been mourning for iii years.
No shit.
I skip through the terminal of that long track and move on to the next. The showtime notes of an unfamiliar melancholy tune hit my speake
rs, and I grab the CD case and requite it a read. This tune is called "Windows" by someone named Angel Olsen, who has a haunting voice. By the end, she's telling me I've been blind and I've been expressionless and it's time to open up up a window and let some lite in.
I snort. Keeley is never shy when she has something to say.
The third song I recognize before the end of the offset discussion. "Unchained Tune" by the Righteous Brothers. The tune is sweeping and ballsy. In the outset three lines, I already experience as if the
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