what time do I need to be at your place tonight?”
I pushed back in my chair, resting both hands on the top of my head. “Around eight.”
“Eight it is.”
Ethan left my office, closing the door behind him. I reached for the picture of McKenzie and me, smiling at the way her blue eyes sparkled with happiness. Just four more days, and I’d see my girl again. I could handle four days. I’d lasted this long after all. Four more days wouldn’t kill me.
Chapter Three
I bounded down the stairs, taking two at a time. The doorbell rang again. “Coming!”
Usually Ruby or Wyatt would’ve beaten me to the door, but with my impending travel, I gave them some time off to head to Boston and spend time with their own family.
“About time you arrived. We’re starving here,” I muttered, landing on the bottom stair with a thud. I threw open the door. There stood a pimpled faced pizza delivery boy, glancing around at the front of my beach house. His long, greasy hair was shoved under a faded baseball cap that resembled the one Jared always wore. Tattoos crept up along his left arm to a ratty t-shirt that appeared as if it had never been washed. In his hand, he held a pizza carrier. Velcro ripped as he opened it.
“Good evening,” his droll voice lulled. “I’ve got three pizzas, one pepperoni, one cheese, and one ham, bacon, and jalapeno,” he quoted, reviewing the order from the side of the boxes.
I nodded, pulling my wallet from my back pocket. The specialty order was all for me. The last time McKenzie and I had pizza together, it was what she ordered. I’d really never had an inclination toward jalapenos until she entered my life, but now, I ate them with practically everything.
“That’ll be $29.08.” He removed the boxes from the pouch, handing them to me as he accepted the cash in my hand.
“Keep the change.”
His eyes widened at the hundred dollar bill he now held. It was the first real expression to make an appearance on his face. “Thanks, man. Have a good night.”
I smiled, giving the kid a single nod. “You too.”
Closing the door, I dashed back up the stairs, balancing the hot pizza boxes in my hands. By the time I reached the loft, located on the fourth floor, the palm of my hand was sweating and burning.
The guttural sounds of men laughing and talking echoed into the stairwell as I entered the room.
“Dude, you should’ve seen his face after he got off the phone with your father. A ghost has more color than Drew did,” Ethan claimed. He took a swig from the amber bottle in his hand. Since alcohol was not allowed past the front door of my house, I kept glass bottled sodas stocked in the loft refrigerator behind the bar.
“You’re over exaggerating,” I spouted off, tossing the three boxes on the high top table.
“I highly doubt that.” Gavin reached for one of the boxes, throwing it open and taking a slice from inside.
I glanced around the room. Jared was missing. “Where’s Jared?”
Ethan pointed toward the balcony.
When I moved in, I had the loft turned into one large man cave. A custom-made aluminum pool table sat in the corner, illuminated by track lighting. Catty-cornered from the pool table stood a high top table and barstools that matched the pool table. French doors, much like the ones in my bedroom, opened to the balcony, overlooking the Gulf. To the opposite side of the room, a seventy-two inch television hung on the wall surrounded by a black leather reclining sectional. The perfect spot for playing video games or watching football.
Jared leaned against the guardrail of the balcony. I expected to see a phone in his hand, because it was there when I trampled down the stairs, but much to my surprise, it was put away. I strolled to the door, sticking my head outside. “Hey, Jared. Pizza’s here.”
He glanced over his shoulder, but didn’t straighten up.