Misfits Like Us (Like Us #11)(5)

At that age, I was already on my own.

Lo looks surly.

“Thanks, man.” Xander swigs the coffee and just notices the cup in Lo’s grip. “Isn’t Wawa way better than Dunkin’, Dad?”

Lo swishes the coffee in the cup. “Tastes like cardboard to me.”

Now I take offense to that. “I can take it back then.” I reach out for the cup.

Lo retracts his arm from me. “I’ll save you from the heartburn.”

“Appreciate the concern, Xander’s dad, but the walls of my heart are thick. Burn’s gonna do nothing to me.” I nod to him. “Keep the coffee though. Maybe you’ll grow to like it.”

“Mm, I don’t think so.”

“You might,” Xander pipes in, slinging his backpack on his shoulder. “It’s the shit.” He crouches down to scratch Erebor behind her ears. “I never gave it much of a chance. Donnelly is showing me the way.” He nods up to me, lips rising.

Lo makes a soured face. “Is he though?” He doesn’t want me to influence his offspring and whatnot. He’s warned me not to, but it’s Wawa. I’d feed the Lonely Mountain a ham hoagie if I could.

Xander rises. “His recs are all good.”

“‘This is the way,’” I say, quoting Star Wars, which makes Luna pop in my head. I didn’t start saying that until I met her. So who’s influencing who? My smile slowly fades when I catch Lo’s glare.

Is he trying to tell me that I’m unworthy of invoking the Mandalorian in his household? Or maybe he knows I’m thinking about Luna. I add quickly, “To school. The way to school.” I motion casually to the door. “Gotta go.”

“See ya, Dad.” Xander is off after speaking quietly to Erebor. I make a fast exit in front of him, not waiting for Lo to get the last word. Usually it’s something salty, and I’m watching my cholesterol, thank yous and farewells.

“Donnelly!” Lo calls back.

Shit.

I roll to a stop in the foyer. Don’t be friends with Xander. I toss the car keys to my client. “I’ll meet you in the car.”

He catches the keys. “K.” He slips red bulky headphones over his ears, then shuts the door behind him to keep the dogs inside.

Akara warned me that Lo wouldn’t like the buddy-guard style of security, and I could see that for myself early on Xander’s detail. Loren Hale wants me to be silently brooding when protecting his son.

A wall.

Like Thatcher Moretti.

And I might come from South Philly like the Moretti brothers, but I’m not them. I get that Xander is still a minor. I have to refer to his parents where security is concerned. Don’t be friends with Xander. But I don’t know how to not be friendly. I’m with him almost every day.

So I’m gonna bring him a cup of coffee sometimes.

I peer into the living room. Not even moving my whole body in Lo’s direction, I want to be halfway out the door. “Yeah?”

Xander’s dad opens his mouth, but he thinks better about something, closes his lips. I’m not a mind reader, but I think I’m pretty good at reading people. I’d say that he looks conflicted. I know that I’ve been a conflicting matter for him.

I know I’ve been that for other parents too.

It’s usually nothing I did and everything to do with my own parents. I’m twenty-nine, and they haven’t been much of a mom or dad to me my whole life. Still, their mistakes are branded deeper than any ink on my body.

His mistakes are his kids to bear too.

Addicts. It can be like that.

Sometimes I wonder if that’s why he’s never asked me about my dad or my mom. Most of the time, I’m happy he doesn’t. There are so few people I’d talk to about my past, and he’s not one of them. Just like I haven’t earned his trust, he’s never really earned mine either.

Again, I’m not doing so hot on the make Lo like me front. I’m more so floating in the don’t let him hate me too much pool. Outside the moments where I feel like he’s trying to drown me, I’ve been content here.

“I’d appreciate it,” Lo says slowly like he’s rethinking every syllable, “if you remind Xander to wear a seatbelt.” I’m not sure if that’s exactly what he meant to tell me.

“Sure thing.”

“He likes you,” Lo says sharply. “Don’t forget that if you mishandle his trust in you, I will mishandle you. Got it?”

“Got it.” I swallow a knot lodging in my throat.

“Great.” He lifts the coffee with a half-smile. “Cheers.”

I’d lift mine back, but it’s in his hand. I’m waiting for Lo to dump the coffee in the house plant. He surprisingly takes a sip before pushing through the kitchen door. Disappearing from sight.

I don’t linger.

I’m out the door, racing down the curb, but when my phone buzzes, I slow near the front yard’s giant fir tree. With a quick glance, I check the new text.

If you can’t find someone for the triple date, Jack knows a girl in WAC production. She’s single. 28. Yale grad. Way out of your league. Exactly your type. – Oscar





Which means she’ll want to bang me and then ditch me.

I’m tattooed, pierced trouble. The mystery that no girl wants to uncover.