Too Hard: Chapter 6

MY FINGER HOVERS OVER Shawn, my patience hanging by a thin, flimsy thread.

Ana’s relentless.

After dropping her home last night, I thought she’d give me a few days off. Wrong thinking. She came back this morning and spent the day calling me over and over and over until she wore me down… I drove her home again.

She’s harmless, I know she is, but she’s driving me fucking insane. Before I slide my finger across the screen to talk restraining orders with my eldest brother, my phone rings.

It’s a Hayes, just not the one I need.

“What’s up?” I ask Theo, checking the fridge for leftovers.

“Hey, bro. Listen… you busy tonight?”

My back straightens on cue, his tone unmistakable. He needs a favor, and judging by the hesitancy, he’s not happy about asking. I can picture him in his kitchen, one hand bracing against the counter, the other squeezing the life out of his cell phone.

Only one thing gets Theo this bent out of shape: his son.

My heartrate picks up. I’ve been waiting months for this phone call, but just in case I’m misinterpreting, I keep the happiness out of my voice. “Not busy. Why?”

With a deep, exasperated sigh, he spits the words at me. “You think you could watch River for a few hours?”

I close my eyes briefly, smiling like the cat that got the birdy. Finally. “You want me to take him?” I chuckle, slamming the fridge door. “I guess everyone else is either busy or dead?”

“Well, yeah. Kind of. Shawn just called. Josh is coming down with chicken pox, so there’s no way I’m leaving River there. Colt’s not answering. Nico and Mia are in Europe, and—”

“I get it. No need to list everyone who can’t, bro. You know I’ll stay with him. Bring him over.”

Ever since River was born, an invisible wall grew between me and Theo. I racked my brain many times, wondering what triggered the distance, and the only explanation I came up with is that Theo doesn’t trust me with his son.

It’s not very plausible. I’m great with kids: responsible, caring, and fun. Ask Logan. I’m the first point of contact whenever Noah needs babysitting.

Theo never let me babysit, no matter how many times I offered. He tenses like a fucking guitar string whenever I steal River from Thalia at Mom’s get-togethers.

I don’t understand his problem, and I think it might be time to air the laundry. Though not right now. If I piss him off, he won’t bring my nephew over.

Besides, there’s one more possibility I can test tonight—he might think I won’t handle River’s tantrums; he’s a screamer. While that does scare me, considering he can go for an hour without a break, I want to spend time with him.

What kind of a brother would I be if I said no to Theo while I sometimes ask Logan to bring Noah over for a playdate just because I miss the kid?

“You sure?” Theo checks in a careful tone. I hear a note of relief there, mixed with uncertainty.

“I’m sure. We’ll be fine, bro. You think Mia woke Nico whenever Logan brought Noah for a sleepover?” I rant, hoping to calm him down as I pace to the bedroom. “Nope, she put him in my room if she needed help or a power nap.”

Noah loves me most, no doubt about it. I’m the favorite uncle by a landslide. We’ve got the same dynamic as Logan and Shawn’s kid, Josh. Everyone else ceases to exist when Josh spots Logan, or Noah spots me. Mia used that to her advantage, sneaking into my room around seven in the morning after being up with Noah for a few hours.

He never liked Nico much—can’t blame the kid; not many people do. Instead of waking him, Mia woke me. She started by casually lying beside me and accidentally falling asleep while Noah crawled over my face.

By the third or fourth time, she walked in, got under the comforter, muttered your turn, and we fell into a routine. It’s a good thing Nico trusts me, or I’d have stopped breathing thirty seconds after the first time he found his girl asleep in my bed.

“Okay, thanks, Cody. We’ll drop him off in an hour.”

“Sure. Just hold on a sec,” I say, checking in a box under the bed for toys. “Bring a few toys, alright? I don’t have anything age appropriate here.”

Though if River is anything like Noah, he’ll be happy playing with my car keys or wooden spoons.

I cut the call, falling face-first onto my bed. I love my nephews equally, and I’m excited to spend the evening with River, but… I’d be lying if I said I’m not one bit concerned.

River isn’t as mellow as Noah. Not as easily entertained from what I’ve seen thus far. He’s six months old, almost over the big crying sprees, but still has his moments. I bet my entire portfolio he’ll be ugly crying as soon as Theo and Thalia close the door behind them.

He’s not half as easygoing as Noah was at his age. That kid ate, played, then slept. No tummy aches, no crying. No fussing. Low maintenance, just like Logan. At least, according to Mom.

River, on the other hand, is everything but low maintenance. I’m about to find out just how good I really am with kids.

I grab a quick shower, finish the lasagna from last night, and then my sister-in-law arrives, pushing River in his stroller.

I take it as a good sign that River doesn’t start crying when we’re alone ten minutes later. He grins his two-tooth grin, banging a tiny fist on some colorful sound-making toy before moving to another five minutes later.

“This is going great,” I tell him, then wrinkle my nose at the foul smell. “Oh, come on, man. Our first time together, and this is how we’re starting? Your mommy was just here.”

He giggles at the faces I’m pulling as I grab the things I need out of the bag Thalia packed. It’s not like I’ve never changed a diaper before. I have. Plenty of times.

That doesn’t mean I enjoy it.

“Next time, don’t wait until Mommy leaves, alright? She’s better at this than I am.” I clip his onesie back in place, and he immediately drags his foot up to his mouth. “Don’t chew your toes. That’s not cool. You hungry?”

Since I’m not getting an answer, I haul him into my arms, grabbing the gooey baby food Thalia brought. Twenty minutes of airplanes and… puff, our fun uncle–nephew time ends abruptly with sudden tears.

Five, ten, twenty minutes. My keys, wooden spoons, plastic cars, and anything that passes for a toy litter the living room rug, but none catch River’s attention.

Disappointment fills my stomach. Failing isn’t something I take lightly, but sometimes the only thing left is admitting defeat.

I’m about to wave the white flag and call Theo when someone knocks on the door. It’s probably him and Thalia. I wouldn’t be surprised if they stood outside this whole time, spying.

Shit. I won’t get to babysit the kid ever again.

I fling the door open, my long hair only half in the bun, after River ripped a few strands out. It hurt but kept him entertained, so I let him.

It’s not Theo, Thalia, or any other member of the Hayes family standing at my door. It’s not even Ana whom I’d welcome with open arms if I was given a choice between her and my neighbor straight from hell.

My eyes slide down Blair’s frame, taking in her oversized tee, boyfriend jeans, and bare feet with a cherry-colored pedicure to match her manicure.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen her cover so much skin. She always strolled the school corridors in inappropriate dresses, showcasing her spectacular body.

Yes, spectacular.

I’m cynical, not blind.

The few pounds she gained since getting kicked off the cheerleading squad did wonders on her former stick-person figure.

She’s got curves.

Sensual, seductive curves. A waistline slim enough that I’d circle it with both hands, ass juicier than a peach. Perky breasts top out the brain-melting hourglass figure.

Legs to her fucking armpits.

Not that she’s flaunting any of that, but I have every inch of her body committed to memory. At least those inches she proudly showed off. There are a few inches I haven’t seen. Inches I was dying to see when she showed up at college on her first day as a freshman.

Her long, brown hair frames her face, highlighting that pouty mouth, button nose, and full cheeks. I can hate her all I want, but there’s no denying the facts. Blair’s always been my type of gorgeous with a head-turning combination of dark hair and blue eyes. Always a looker. Always commanding attention.

And now, wearing cute jeans and a plain white tee, she’s fucking stunning. Too bad the beautiful exterior’s only skin deep. She’s rotten to her very core.

Also… too bad my dick doesn’t care about her personality.

I’m rock fucking hard. Again.

“Sounds like you need help,” Blair says, breaking the tense silence as she peeks under my arm at River.

He sits on the rug, cute face wet and pink. I raise a questioning brow instead of slamming the door in her face.

“Your help?” I give a derisive snort. “That’s the last fucking thing I’ll ever need.”

Her demeanor dims, hurt veiling her features. “He’ll cry himself sick, Cody. He’s been going for twenty minutes.”

“No shit. I was here the whole time.” My head’s about to pop, which might be why I’m dumbfounded enough to still be talking to Blair. “I’ve got four nephews, so I’ve seen it all. I’m not fucking new to this.”

“I’m not saying you’re new,” Blair retorts. “I’m just offering help.”

“I’d rather crash Theo’s date.”

Folding her arms over her chest, she lifts her chin, shepherding the hurt until it’s almost hidden. “Would the crown fall off your head if you’d stop acting so hostile? I want to make things right, but you’re not even giving me a chance to apologize—”

“I don’t give a shit about your apologies. They don’t mean a thing when they’re not fucking honest, and you don’t know what honesty is. Leave me the fuck alone.”

Regret strikes me square in the jaw when her defensive shell cracks, exposing her hurt she tried to hide.

I hate her. I can’t stand her, but acting like an asshole puts me on her level, and no way I’ll meet her there.

River starts awkwardly crawling toward us, his motor skills exceptionally well developed. Noah didn’t start moving about until he was ten months, lazy as his dad, but River has been attempting to crawl for a month already.

“Listen…” I say, exhaling a long breath while hauling River into my arms. “He’s dry, fed, and keeps tossing the water bottle away. He’s just fussy like his dad. He’ll be fine.”

“Or he’s tired,” she points out.

“No. I put him in bed three times. He crawls right out. Put some earplugs in. Theo’s picking him up in two hours.” I’m about to slam the door but stop when I realize bouncing did the trick. River’s quiet. A triumphant smile stretches my lips. “See? He’s fine.”

Not waiting for another word from Blair, I shut the door. My smile dissipates the instant River’s mouth curls down, and three, two, one… the concerto resumes.

“You have to be fucking kidding, little man,” I groan, watching his big, brown, teary eyes glued to the door. “You’re killing me here. We were doing so well.”

Testing what I already know, I grab the handle. Blair’s still in the hallway, facing my condo, arms crossed.

The triumphant smile that took real estate across my face a moment ago now adorns her lips because… what do you know? With a tiny hiccup, River falls silent, staring at Blair like she’s a fucking godsend. She’s not. I bet she’s got ties with the devil.

“You like girls better, huh?” I run a gentle hand across his cheeks, wiping the tears. “You sure take after Daddy. Grandma said he only liked girls when he was your age. Nothing wrong with that, but choose them wisely. Some will break you ten different ways.”

I step aside, gritting my teeth as I gesture for Blair to enter. This is not fucking happening right now. Theo’s lucky I love his kid, and can’t bear to see him cry.

He’s also lucky I love his wife and understand she needs time off, or else I’d be bursting into the restaurant and dumping River on their table.

I look at Blair when she outstretches her hand toward him.

“Hey there,” she coos softly, making the little traitor show his two new bottom teeth.

“Noah was never this loud,” I admit, handing River over before closing the door. “He slept a lot until he turned one.”

“Noah is Logan’s son, right?”

“First-born,” I confirm. “Eli’s on the way. Any day now.”

Her eyes remain on River as she boops his nose with her finger. Swallowing the bitter taste coating my tongue at letting in the girl who did nothing but hurt Mia her whole life, I temporarily put my hatred on hold.

It’s been almost a year since Mia was assaulted. She dealt with the trauma. Made peace with the past, forgave her enemies, and used the bad things that happened to toughen up.

I don’t share her worldview that everyone deserves a second chance. An apology and admission of guilt is not enough to wipe a slate clean.

I blamed myself last year. I’ve worked through it since, but the memories sometimes steal my breath. If I’d gone after Mia right away, if I didn’t let her out of my sight, if I paid more attention… everything would be different.

That evening changed a lot of people’s lives.

Blair’s included. At least she keeps swearing it was an eye-opener. I’m not buying her remorse, and I’m not buying those meaningless sorrys she’s spewed for months. Granted, she hasn’t done anything hurtful since then, but it doesn’t mean I’ll forget her sins.

“You want something to drink?” I ask when she sits, bouncing River on her knee.

“Tea if you’ve got any.”

I nod, grateful for a five-minute escape.

My whole body is crawling now she’s close. I don’t want her here, but kicking her out equals upsetting my nephew, and I love him more than I hate her.

Taking my sweet time with the tea, I glance over my shoulder whenever River coos or giggles. He’s grinning at Blair, eyes big, round, and sparkling.

Kids are amazing. Carefree, innocent. They don’t judge or overthink. They take the world as they see it and trust their gut when it comes to people, the survival instinct helping them along.

It’s painful to think that, one day, River will grow up. He’ll lose his innocence. He’ll see the world for the fucking shitshow it is.

I steal glances at Blair, too, racking my brain. She’s a year younger than me, but I’ve known her since she was five. We went to the same schools, and Blair’s pompous, spotlight-loving personality made her less easily overlooked than Mia.

While I didn’t notice Mia until high school, I sure noticed Blair. Spoilt, arrogant, rich bitch. The mean girl, always on top of the food chain, surrounded by worshippers, both boys and girls.

That’s not the same girl who’s sitting on my couch, playing peek-a-boo with River, whose ecstatic screams pierce my eardrums. This girl is different, somehow.

I can’t put my finger on what changed. I don’t think it’s her smile. I’ve seen that a thousand times.

Maybe it’s her clothes. She’s not one false move away from her dress accidentally rolling up to flash half the student body. At some point, the guys made daily bets: what color thong is Blair wearing today?

Black, usually. Sometimes red. Never white.

“You got kids in your family?” I ask, setting the cup on a tall side table far from River’s reach.

My tone’s frosty enough to freeze an ocean, but I ask because I can’t deal with awkward silence.

“Not yet. Soon, though. My cousin is due in October.”

“Boy or girl?” Kids seem the safest topic, given the situation.

I don’t want us to talk, but it’s not as challenging as I imagined since she seems the polar opposite of the Blair I’m used to.

“A girl. You don’t have any nieces yet, right?”

“Not for the lack of Logan’s praying. I’m pretty sure he’s ready to sell his soul for a daughter.” Maybe you can hook him up? I’m sure you and the devil are besties.

Blair shifts her arm, circling River’s back so he’s safe in her lap, then covers her eyes with the other hand, playing peek-a-boo again. “Are they planning another baby soon?”

“Not that soon. Cassidy barely had time to breathe between Eli and Noah. We had a good chat with Logan about giving her a break before knocking her up again.”

“I bet she could use a year off.”

Every sentence Blair speaks lacks her usual superior confidence. Her voice quakes at the edges—something I’ve never heard—and I can see her trembling, as if she’s trying to hide that she’s afraid to be in the room with me.

“That’s the problem,” I say, purposely losing the disdain from my tone. It works only because I face this unsure-of-herself girl and not Blair the bitch. “She’s as baby-crazed as Logan but doesn’t want to be pregnant at their wedding. Once that’s out of the way, I expect another pregnancy announcement by the end of the year.”

Just like that, the topic changes from kids to the upcoming wedding, and somehow, the conversation flows without a hitch, question after question for over an hour. A few times, she looks ready to start apologizing or explaining the past, but she pinches her lips, gently shaking her head as if she doesn’t think the moment’s right.

It isn’t. Not just because River’s here, but mainly because I don’t give a shit about her excuses. Nothing she could say would change what I think of her.

Nothing.

At some point, River crawls further over her until his head rests against her shoulder and he nods off.

“I think you’ll be fine for a while,” she whispers, gently stroking his back. “Where do you want him?”

“Stroller,” I say, wheeling it closer. “He moves in his sleep too much to leave him on the couch. He’d end up face-planting the carpet.”

“Better safe than sorry.” She gently transfers River from her arms to the stroller, then covers him with a fluffy blanket. “Feel free to knock on my door if he wakes up.”

I won’t.

Blair initiated every interaction between us since we moved into the building, and that won’t change. Still, I suddenly find myself out of rude comments, and when my lips part, I sound far from hateful.

“I bet you’ll hear him first.”

“I bet I will.”

I hold the door open, watching her cross the corridor. “Blair?”

She turns, worrying her bottom lip, probably expecting something nasty because, save for tonight, that’s all I’ve been to her for a long time. “Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

Those blue eyes give a tiny spark, and an uncertain smile twists her lips. Her whole face lights up, her features prettier than ever before.

I don’t like what it does to me, that smile.

I’d much prefer my dick turning hard since there’s not much I can do to control that brainless organ. But my dick’s been up the entire time she sat in my condo, and now, on top of that inconvenience, I feel like someone took a baseball bat to the back of my head.

“Thank you for letting me help.”