Rock Bottom (Dawson Family 6)

“That was Logan and Owen,” I counter, though I remember helping those assholes set up a fog machine in the hallway in the middle of the night.

Archer leaves the house in a rush, and I take my food back to the island counter. As soon as I sit, a white cat comes running, jumping up and immediately going right for my bowl. I push her away and get bombarded by two more.

Annoyed, I stand, holding the bowl in my hand, and lean against the counter. The same white cat paws at me, meowing.

“Fine,” I say, and give the cats each a little piece of roast. I finish the food and put the bowl in the sink, yawning. I got up at five AM this morning to meet my construction crew on a job site, and spent the day filling in for one of the guys who left with food poisoning. I finished the day with a workout, ran home to shower, and then came over to Quinn and Archer’s for dinner.

I’m exhausted and should crash. It’ll be another early morning tomorrow, filled with client meetings and approving designs before sending them to our architect. But just the thought of lying down causes anxiety to ripple through me.

Night is the time I remember I’m alone.

That I’ve been alone, even before the divorce was final.

The time I question if any of my marriage was real, or if it was bullshit all along.

I’m not going to risk feeling. Risk admitting what I’ve been denying to everyone—and myself.

“You ate it all,” I tell the cats, who are still winding around my feet, meowing for more food. I step over them, going back into the basement to watch TV. I make it halfway through an episode of The Witcher when my phone vibrates with a text. It’s Maria, and if she’s texting me around midnight, I know exactly what she wants.

Maria: Hey, handsome. Whatcha doing?

Me: Hanging out at my sister’s.

Maria: You gonna be there long?”

Me: Probably. Her husband just got called into work and I said I’d stay. She doesn’t like to be home alone at night.

Maria. Awwww that’s so sweet of you. You’re a good guy.

I wince. I broke my rule of don’t hook up with the same woman twice with Maria. I was drunk when we hooked up the second time, thinking of my failed marriage and putting the blame on myself. I needed something—someone—to distract me, and Maria was more than willing to spend all night being said distraction.

Not wanting to lead her on, I laid it all out from the start. I’m divorced. Not looking for anything serious. I committed once and won’t make that mistake again.

Maria starts typing again and then the three little dots go away. Letting out a sigh, I turn off the TV and get up. I’m not above pouring myself some whiskey before passing out, letting the alcohol flood my veins to help me sleep.

Yawning, I flick off the lights and feel my way up the stairs in the dark, tripping over another damn cat. It growls and runs away, sounding like an elephant is running through the house instead of a ten-pound feline who’s supposed to be graceful on its feet.

Trying to be as quiet as I can, I head up another flight of stairs, going up the back staircase. It leads me right by the master bedroom, and I stop at the door, looking in at Quinn.

“You awake?” I whisper, but my sister doesn’t answer. Two cats are in bed with her, and I stifle a laugh. No wonder Archer complains about them. Silently, I walk down the hall, checking on my nieces. Arya and Emma each have their own rooms—and they’re huge fucking rooms at that—but they prefer to sleep together, snuggled up in a twin bed.

Emma kicked the blankets off and Arya is huddled up, probably freezing. I tiptoe in to cover them up. Emma’s eyes flutter open when I pull the blanket up over her and Arya.

“Love you, Uncle Dean,” she mumbles, not surprised to see me. I stayed here for a few weeks right after the divorce, and the girls still miss me and want me to move back in.

“Love you too,” I whisper. “Go back to sleep.”

“Okay.”

Sneaking back into the hall, my foot hits a toy that’s been left in the hallway. It doesn’t knock over, but scoots a few inches on the hardwood floor. Wincing, I turn back around and pray I didn’t wake up the girls.

They’re still fast asleep.

Letting out a breath of relief, I go across the hall to Aiden’s room. The door is wide open, but a cat is in the crib instead of my nephew. Assuming he’s in bed with Quinn and not eaten by one of Quinn’s many cats, I walk into the guest room.