I pull open the curtains on the big window—the one that just so happens to face Jocelyn’s house—and prop myself on the end of the couch. From this spot, I can see Jocelyn’s front porch. Could probably see right into her own living room window if the curtains were open, but that’s a voyeur-level line I’m not gonna cross.
I have a mission to accomplish, not a creepy obsession.
I’m just watching so I know when I can head over to sign Meatball’s cast. I told the kid I would. After scaring the shit out of him and almost making him cry, it’s the least I can do.
This definitely has nothing to do with me having a crush on The Hot Mom.
Even if I might have a small crush on her.
Once I’m settled, I grab the TV remote off the coffee table, then glance at Zay. He’s still standing where I left him, holding the bagel sandwich in one hand and staring at me with a furrowed brow. I unwrap my sandwich and take a bite.
“Saturday morning cartoons,” I mumble as I chew and flip on the TV. Zay sighs and disappears back into the kitchen, before reappearing a few seconds later with plates and paper towels. He drops one of each in my lap, then throws himself onto the couch without another word.
Dylan stumbles down an hour later and joins us, and we watch cartoons until movement in front of Jocelyn’s house catches my eye, and I turn my full attention to it.
A big, black truck pulls up to the curb and parks, then the guy from the hospital—Patrick, the ex-husband—gets out and rounds the back door. When he opens it, June hops out, then the guy pulls out Jude. He then drops two small duffle bags on the ground and pulls out a car seat.
He’s dropping them off.
I smile inwardly at my luck—I hadn’t even considered the kids might not be home—when Jocelyn comes rushing out the door wearing scrubs and no shoes. She motions for the kids to go inside, then rounds on the ex with her hands on her hips.
When it’s obvious they’ve started arguing, I almost open the window, so I can listen in. But I don’t because Dr. Vanessa Hernandez would beat my ass if she knew I was shamefully invading someone’s privacy.
Woman’s never touched me like that but I still live in fear of the possibility every day. Doesn’t matter that she’s five-nothing and a buck ten, my mom can be fucking terrifying.
I smile at the thought. Lil beast.
The smile falls when I see Jocelyn wrap her arms around her torso and shake her head. Her body language puts me on edge. But nothing pisses me off more than the hard set of the ex’s shoulders and the patronizing look on his face.
His mouth moves again, and her shoulders slump. She presses her fingers to her temples and says something else, then the ex gets back in his truck and peels away. Jocelyn stands outside a few more minutes, idly looking at the ground, then turns and walks slowly into the house.
“Prick,” Zay says, and I turn to see that both he and Dylan are watching out the window too. His disgust is more emotion than I’m used to from Xavier, and I nod my agreement.
“Pretty sure he’s a cop,” Dylan adds.
“Why?”
He shrugs, plopping back down in his chair. “Seen him come by a few times. Random times. Usually at night. Sometimes he’s in a cop car.”
“You sure it’s him?”
“Yeah,” he nods and starts scrolling mindlessly through his phone, “never stays long.”
I let that sink in. She still sleeping with the ex? I head toward the door.
“I’ll see you guys later,” I call over my shoulder. “Have fun with your balls tonight.” I slip on my shoes and walk out the door.
I’m on the neighbor’s porch in ten steps, knocking before I can think it through and looking into June’s upturned, blank face within seconds.
“Hey,” I greet. “I came by to sign Meatball’s cast.”
“Hold on,” she mumbles, then shuts the door on me. I stick my hands in my pockets and shift my weight from foot to foot. Not exactly the kind of welcome I was picturing.
A minute later, the captain himself opens the door and tackles my legs in a hug. I chuckle and ruffle his hair. This is more like it.
“What’s up, Capi? I came by to sign your cast.” I wave the marker I brought in the air.
“Capi,” he says with a giggle. “What’s a capi?”
“You know, like a little nickname. Short for captain, but in Spanish.”
“Cool! Capi!” He smiles, then grabs my wrist with his un-casted hand and pulls me into the house. The layout is exactly like Riggs’ townhouse, but inverted, so when Jude drags me down the hallway, I know we’ll end up in the living room. He pulls me to the couch and pushes me down on it, then sits next to me and puts his lime green plaster casted arm in my lap.
“So, where’s your mom, Meatball?” I ask, noticing the kitchen is empty of both Jocelyn and June. I gesture to his cast. “This is sick. Is green your favorite color?”
“Upstairs on the phone. My favorite color is purple.”
“Yeah? Why’d you go with green?”
Jude shrugs. “Dad says no purple.”
The fuck? I’m not even going to ask.
“Alright, you ready?” I survey his cast. The only other signatures on it are his mom’s, dad’s, and sister’s.
“Ready!”
I tap the marker on a blank spot on his forearm. “I’m claiming this spot.”
“Kay.” He squirms on the cushion next to me.
I scribble on his cast, finishing the last letter in my name just as Jocelyn rounds the corner into the living room. When our eyes catch, she stops in her tracks and her mouth drops.
“Jesse?”
“Classic,” I greet with a grin. “Came by to sign Captain Meatball’s cast.” I lift Jude’s arm and give it a little wiggle, making him laugh. Her eyes go from me to Jude then back to me again.
“Oh. Well.” She scrunches up her eyebrows and cocks her head to the side a smidge. “Hi?”
“Hi.” I laugh, then gesture to her scrubs, making sure not to stare. “You work today?”
“No.” She glances down at her body. “I’m supposed to have a clinical, but...” She trails off.
“But...?” I stand up from the couch. Jude does too, and he mirrors my stance. Cute little bugger. I knock him lightly with my leg, and he giggles.
“Well, the kids were supposed to be with Patrick today, and I can’t find a babysitter.” She worries her lip. She doesn’t want to get into it, but it’s obvious she’s bummed about having to miss a clinical. The hours are probably required for whatever program she’s in and missing could really fuck up her grade. I make up my mind a fraction of a second before I speak.
“I can watch them,” I offer, and her eyes widen, and she starts to protest.
“Oh, no, that’s—”