The Do-Over (The Rooftop Crew #5) - Piper Rayne Page 0,12
you one for sure who doesn’t. Visit me down at Ink Envy and I’ll introduce you.” He chuckles and slides onto the stool by the breakfast bar.
“I think it comes down to people being scared of getting hurt. Love makes you vulnerable. It forces you to open the gate to that space where you hide your true self, allowing the other person to see the real you and to judge what they see. Sometimes people don’t take that seriously and you get hurt. I think the gate gets heavier every time you trust someone, and they fail you.”
He nods then pretends to swipe a tear. “Damn, girl, I just asked if you like rom-coms.”
I throw my water cap at him and he catches it, laughing as he hops off the stool.
“Can you please put on some pants?”
He looks down at himself as though he forgot he wasn’t wearing anything but boxers. He seems the type who’s comfortable in his own body. “I’d thought maybe we could screw so we could both fall asleep after, but I can tell you’re here for Knox.”
He disappears into his room before I can explain how dead wrong he is. He returns wearing a pair of gray sweatpants as the buzzer of the oven goes off.
“Knox had his shot and he chose Leilani.” I don’t know why I say it.
Jax glances at me and our eyes catch. His silent question and my nod. It’s more information than I intended to give the guy, but hey, why not lay out all the cards? I’ll never see him again after tonight.
“Fuck!” He pulls his hand back from the oven and sucks on his finger.
I scramble up and usher him to the faucet, where I turn on the cold water and shove his hand underneath. Once he’s situated, I get the pizza out of the oven, then turn it off.
“Shocked you, did I?”
“You kinda look like her now that you mention Leilani. You’re not…”
“Sisters?” I laugh, and he nods. “No. We’re both Polynesian though, and our hair is basically the same. Our families are friends. We were neighbors growing up.”
He turns off the faucet then sucks on his finger again. “Are you in contact with her? Because I’m not really—”
“No, her friends got me kicked out of my apartment. I bailed her out after she was arrested, only for her to disappear on me. Knox found me under an overpass tonight and he offered to let me spend the night here.”
His body language changes. “Well, shit. That sucks.”
I nod and search the drawers for a pizza cutter to keep myself busy before I break down over the situation I find myself in.
He shrugs. “Stay here as long as you want. Knox and I cover the rent just fine.”
“You’re crazy. I’m leaving before Knox gets home tomorrow.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Tell me more about when Knox had a chance with you.”
“Why?”
He opens the cabinet where paper plates are, and I grab two. Thankfully he says nothing about my earlier disclaimer that I wasn’t hungry.
“Because I have insomnia from not getting laid because of some crappy bet I’m in and you should have sympathy for me. Plus, I made you a pizza. And overall, I’m a cool guy. I’ll even throw in a tattoo.”
I laugh, and it stops him from spewing more bullshit. “Fine. Let’s at least get comfortable, and I’m throwing out a disclaimer right now—I do not want Knox Whelan, okay?”
“Whatever. I’m hoping the story is boring as fuck and I fall asleep.”
And that’s when I talk about a night I’m ashamed to admit I’ve thought of often since it happened, while Knox probably doesn’t even remember it at all.
Chapter Six
Knox
I slide into the squad car where Patrice is jamming to Salt-N-Pepa. Just when I think she’s not paying attention, she squawks our radio outside of the car at two skateboarding kids who should be in bed.
“Aren’t your mommas looking for you?” she yells through the radio.
One of the kids glances back and scurries around the corner, but the other one stops riding and taunts us with his steady glare.
“Man, kids have balls they didn’t have when I was growing up,” she says to me.
The kid eventually follows his friend. Usually I might’ve gotten out of the squad car and talked with him, but the whole debacle of having Leilani’s friend in my apartment right now is messing with my mind. Two days ago, my life was good. Not great, but stress-free at least.