Page 23 of Messy Strokes (Wrecked Roommates)

“And he assumed you were breaking up with him,” Jake surmises.

“Kind of? I dunno. It was weird.” I shake my head, analyzing our breakup for the thousandth time, though it still doesn’t get me anywhere. “It’s like he refused to accept I wanted to give our relationship a real shot.”

“So…he’s a dumbass.”

Another pathetic laugh escapes me. “Basically.”

“And a very stubborn one.”

“Right again.”

“I assume it wasn’t you he was screwing last night?”

I sniff and wipe beneath my nose with the back of my hand. “Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner.”

“Shit, Em.” He forces himself to his feet and pulls me into a hug.

And even though it feels weird, and we’ve never been particularly close, I accept it, wrapping my arms around his waist and burying my head into his neck while soaking up every ounce of warmth and kindness like a dry sponge. I need it. I need it so badly.

“It’s fine,” I whisper against him. “I get it. I screwed up. I’m now a single mom with a very mom body. I know I can’t compete with those girls anymore, and he’ll never want me again––”

“Bullshit.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head against his warm chest. “It’s not bullshit––”

“Yes, it is.” His fingers dig into my shoulders as he pulls me away from him and looks me straight in the eye. “Trust me, Em. I might’ve been distracted during my shitstorm of a life over the past few months, but I’m not stupid. I remember when you guys broke up. I remember how much it messed with Milo’s head. He was hurting. Bad”

With a dry laugh, I point out, “He seemed right as rain last night––”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“It doesn’t matter, anyway,” I return. “I can’t deal with him right now. I need to focus on being a mom. I need to figure out how I’m going to work, and who’s going to hire me, and who’s going to watch her while I’m away, and––”

“Wait. You’re going to get a job?”

“I have to.”

“Have you talked to Milo about it?”

“He’s not my keeper, Jake.”

“You know what I mean. He’s not going to want you to work.”

“It doesn’t matter what he wants.”

“It kind of does,” he returns gently. “No offense, but you guys have a kid together. And when it comes to the little nugget and who she hangs out with every day, he has a say in the matter.”

“So, what? I’m supposed to stay locked up in his house until she turns eighteen? Gee. Soundsgreat. Thanks for the input, Jake.” I pat his chest roughly.

He snorts. “I didn’t mean it like you think, Em, er, Mads?”

“You can call me whatever you want. And if you didn’t mean it like it sounded, whatdidyou mean?”

“I mean, you should try talking to Milo. Figure out a game plan. Whether it’s you getting a job and working your schedule around Milo’s and mine or––”

“Yours?”

With a shrug, he reaches for his coffee mug on the counter and takes a few gulps of blessed caffeine. “I used to watch my nephews and nieces every once in a while back home. It’s not like I can’t watch your baby too.”

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