Page 142 of The Manny

“Are you saying I can be easily replaced?”

He chuckled. “I’m saying you need to live your life. You deserve to be with someone who appreciates what a great guy you are. That person isn’t Jack. I don’t even think it’s Crispin. There’s nothing keeping you here, Thomas. Go find your happiness.”

Aiden meant well, so there was no point in arguing with him. Of course he couldn’t begin to understand why I was drawn to Jack. He’d never seen the Jack I’d seen. A man who’d been hurt and abused much of his life. Jack had shared the pain of Kenny’s betrayal with me. He’d shared the agony of his abusive childhood and losing his sister. I was possibly the only person Jack had ever shared any of that with, so of course no one else saw the man I did.

But if he was hell-bent on keeping his walls up with me, I’d have no choice but to let him go. I really hoped I could get through to him tonight.

****

Jack gave his permission for Mia to stay another night at Aiden’s, and I puttered away at home, waiting for him to get off work. I was nervous about talking with Jack tonight. It could so easily go sideways. I tried not to think about the things that could go wrong, and instead attempted to focus on how things could go right. But as the evening wore on, and he didn’t come home, my positive attitude faded away.

When midnight rolled around, and Jack still wasn’t home, I began to feel frustrated. The fact he hadn’t bothered texting me or calling to let me know he wouldn’t be home sent a clear message; he was avoiding me.

Around 2:00 a.m. I got tired of playing the waiting game. I’d just crawled in bed when I heard the sound of Jack’s car in the driveway. My heart pounded as he entered the house, and I heard him moving around in the kitchen. I was too agitated to sleep, so I got up and headed out into the kitchen. I found Jack sitting up on the island, eating an ice cream sandwich. When he saw me he looked a bit sheepish, but he didn’t speak.

“You’re finally home,” I said gruffly.

“Yep.” His jaw had a stubborn jut.

It was hard not to be angry. Avoiding me all evening was a callous thing to do. He must have known I was waiting anxiously for him to come home. I eyed the ice cream sandwich. “If you’re hungry, there are leftovers. I made dinner tonight,” I said pointedly.

“Did you?”

“Don’t I always?”

He shrugged. “Well, Mia wasn’t here. I thought maybe you wouldn’t bother.”

“I bothered because I thought you’d be home for dinner.”

“Oh.”

“If you weren’t coming home, I wished you’d texted me.”

“Sorry. I meant to. I guess I forgot.”

Liar.

I gave a tight smile. “You must have been preoccupied.”

“You could say that.” He took a bite of his ice cream, watching me with an odd expression. His gaze roamed my body, and my pulse picked up at the look in his eyes. I felt breathless as I moved to put the island between us. He turned his head, still watching me.

“Did you go to Brannigan’s with the guys?”

“Yes.”

My stomach churned. “Must have had a good time, if you’re this late.”

“I had a great time.”

Jealousy washed through me, and my face twitched. “Did you now?”

“Yep.”

“I thought we were going to talk.”

He exhaled and looked away, pushing the last of his ice cream sandwich into his mouth. Once he’d swallowed, he muttered, “You’re like a nagging wife.”

“Is that right?” Anger nipped at me. “You got testy with me last night when I suggested you might blow me off. Yet, that’s exactly what you did tonight.”

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