Unwell (The Un Series Book 1) Read online

  Chapter 1

  Azley

  Present day…

  Tyler has my hair wrapped around his fist, yanking hard so my head twists back at an awkward angle. It stings and my eyes pop open on a groan. “Come on baby, you need to let me sleep. I have an early day tomorrow.”

  This is the third night in a row he’s woken me in the middle of the night. I think he might be having nightmares, but he doesn’t cry. He just sits in his bed and whimpers until I go to him and bring him into my bed to snuggle. I untangle his little hand from my hair before rolling over, and then pull him close to snuggle against my chest. I sing You Are My Sunshine to him until he falls back to sleep. I hope this is not becoming a habit for him.

  Unfortunately for me, I can’t fall back to sleep. I lay in bed, watching my little man sleep to pass the time. My lower back is killing me this morning. It’s so excruciating that I lay in a fetal position until the pain subsides enough to be able to move. I’ve been waking up like that every morning for the past couple of days. I’m positive the lack of bed space from my three-year-old son sleeping with me is the cause. Note to self, find a way to get that boy to stay in his bed.

  I slide carefully out of bed, not wanting to wake my precious boy just yet. Piling my long brown hair on top of my head in a messy bun, I hop into the shower for a quick wash of my body. My hair has been falling out by the handful lately when I wash it, clogging my shower drain.

  It’s late August in Arizona, already over 100 degrees at eight o’clock in the morning, so I dress in a pair of yoga shorts and tank. I then pull on a pair of cut off sweats and a t-shirt with the neck cut out, so it hangs slightly off my shoulders. I walk into my kitchen, pulling a mug from a cabinet then creamer from the fridge. I need a caffeine fix, and I thank my mom every morning for the coffee maker she gifted to me. I don’t have the patience to wait for coffee to brew, so she bought a machine that I can preset the night before. I pour the creamer into my mug, followed by the coffee.

  “Come on little man, time to wake up. You wanna’ go see Mama Z?” I run my fingers through his curly black hair as his eyelashes flutter over his brown eyes and a sleepy grin graces his face. Tyler loves his babysitter, Mama Z, or Mrs. Zwayer, our next-door neighbor. She used to be a kindergarten teacher, and has been helping with taking care of him since my mom also works. They have a special bond, akin to a grandparent and grandchild.

  “Momzee cakes.” He claps his hands and squeals because he knows that is what’s waiting for him. Mrs. Zwayer makes the best pancakes, and they’re his favorite.

  “Well then, let’s hop to it little man! You don’t want to miss out on those.” I tickle his tummy before lifting him from my bed to get him dressed. I stumble a bit as I do; he’s getting so heavy. Once I have him dressed, we start to head next door to Mama Z’s.

  A dizzy spell hits me and I have to grab the doorjamb to steady myself. My eyes close as I breathe deep and steady for a few moments. Once it passes, we continue on next door.

  “There’s my boy! Come on sweetheart, Mama Z has her special pancakes all ready for you.” Tyler runs straight for Mrs. Zwayer, who sweeps him up in her arms and gives him a loud kiss on the cheek. I set his backpack, filled with extra clothes for just in case, on her couch.

  “Okay little man, Momma has to go to work now. You be good for Mama Z. I love you.” I kiss his head before Mrs. Zwayer takes him to the dining room. Once she has him set up in front of his bits of pancakes, she walks me back to the front door.

  “You have a good day now, Azley. What time should I expect you back?”

  “I only have two classes to teach today, so I should be back by one.” I hug her good-bye and make my way to the parking lot, to my beat-up four-door car. It’s ten years old, but it gets me where I need to go without too many problems. I throw my dance bag in the passenger seat and then head to the studio.

  ***

  Since dropping out of school due to my pregnancy, I lost my college scholarship and went to work in a strip club. I wasn’t proud, and my mom would kill me if she knew, but it was the only job that seemed reasonable enough to make money to support myself. If she wanted to believe bartending pays that kind of money, who am I to correct her. I didn’t think I had much of a choice, though. I wasn’t proud of that career choice, but I also wasn’t ashamed of it. It helped me save enough money to move out on my own.

  I head into the coffee shop next door to the studio. Tatum is supposed to be meeting me here before she heads to her morning classes. I hear someone call out my name and turn to see Parker Brooks waving at me. I went to high school with him, but he’s a couple years older so I never got to know him until this past year. He and Tatum go to the same college parties that she occasionally drags me to.

  “Azley, can I talk to you a minute?” He asks when he catches up to me.

  “Sure, what can I do for you?” I continue walking towards the counter to order.

  “Well, now that you ask, I’ve been dying for you to do me.” He winks at me, and while I should be appalled at his comment, I’m not. I’ve had enough conversations with Parker over the last year to know he’s not serious. He’s never once made an inappropriate pass at me, or even asked me out.

  I let out a snort and bump him with my shoulder, “You wish. Seriously, though, what’s up?”

  “A group of us from the frat are going out to this new club Saturday night. I want you to come. And can you tell Tatum? I tried texting her last night, but I haven’t heard back from her yet.” Parker rolls his eyes. He and Tatum have a weird relationship. They’re not together, but they like to hook up occasionally for a night of carnal studies if they’re not seeing other people.

  “I’d love to, but you know I have Tyler. I’ll see if my mom is willing to watch him. Text me the info and we’ll meet you there if we can.” I give a squeeze to his arm.

  “You’re awesome, Azley! Thanks, see you Saturday.” I get a quick peck on the cheek before he turns and rushes out of the shop. I shake my head with a chuckle as I reach the counter to place my order. I hope Tatum is up for clubbing. We haven’t had a night out together in a long time.

  I make my way over to my gorgeous best friend. She’s five foot two, with long, curly blonde hair, and beautiful gray eyes. She has her head bent over, going through her phone to pass time. No doubt she’s trolling through discount sites, looking for the best bargain on clothes from Korea. She’s addicted to shopping on those sites. She does find some amazing clothes, though, and they fit her unique style of hippy mixed with K-Pop.

  “What kind of bargains are you finding today, Taytay?” I use the nickname Tyler gave her when he first started learning her name. I look over her shoulder to see she’s looking at lacey dresses. They’re cute, hit just above the knee, but barely cover any of the important parts they’re so revealing.

  “I need a dress for my brother’s wedding. I figured since I don’t approve of DB, I’m going with a trassy style.” Tatum has been against her brother’s relationship since he first brought her home to meet the family. I don’t blame her, though. The woman makes an opossum look energetic. She gave birth to their son three months ago, and refuses to get out of bed until after two in the afternoon, forcing Jay to hire a babysitter so he can go to work.

  “Trassy? What exactly does that mean?” I raise my brows in question, waiting for whatever off the wall answer she comes up with. A frown smile graces her lips, a quirk she has when the topic of discussion is something she detests, yet finds amusing at the same time. She's the only person I know who can frown and smile at the same time, and it's the weirdest yet coolest thing I've ever seen.

  “Trassy, it’s a combination of classy, out of respect for Jay, and trashy for my hatred of DB. Enough about that fiasco; what’s going on with you and Brad? Did you introduce him to Tyler yet?” Her grey eyes round with innocence, but her question is anything but innocent.

  “You know damn well I have not introduced him to Tyler. I don’t want my son confused about a
nything. I highly doubt Brad even realizes I have a son anyway. He’s not much of a listener, more of a “hands on” kind of guy.” Ever since Eric, I’ve been avoiding regular dating. I rarely go out on a date, and when I do I don’t take them home, I don’t stay the night with them, and I definitely don’t stick around for more than one date. Except for this time around; I’ve been with Brad for about three months.

  “Look, you seem to finally be getting serious about a guy. Why not introduce them, see how they take to each other? Do it before it gets too serious, though. What if Tyler doesn’t like him? Then you have to choose.”

  “Choose? Come on Tatum, there wouldn’t be a choice because Tyler is always first in my life. I would never put anyone above him, not even myself. Besides, this thing with Brad isn’t serious, I’m just feeling comfortable.” This conversation needs to end so I change the subject, “Oh, before I forget! I ran into Parker, he said he texted you last night. Did you read them?”

  “Oh, yeah, I haven’t read them yet. Why?” Tatum reaches for her coffee and looks back down to her phone as she takes a sip.

  “He wants us to go with him Saturday night to check out a new club.”

  “Oh, really now? I’ll have to check my schedule, but I might be able to pencil it in. Wait, what about Tyler?” Tatum knows I don’t like leaving him all night long.

  “I’m due for a night of mild debauchery. Hopefully, my mom won’t mind watching him for a little while. I need to be around other people besides dancers and Brad.” Maybe it will shake me out of this comfort phase I have going with Brad. The last thing I want is to fall in love again.

  “You need more than a couple of hours. We should make a night of it! Leave your mom up to me, she loves me,” she responds with a wink.

  I press the heel of my palm to my forehead and sigh. “Fine, but you better have bail money ready for when I get kicked out of the club for public disorderly. You know I can’t hold my liquor.”

  “The bail jar is full and ready. How’s mine looking?” Tatum jokes.

  “I have two for you, trouble maker.”

  “And that’s why I love you! You always have my back.”

  Tatum and I make our way out of the coffee shop. We make plans for the weekend, and then part ways. I head into the studio and prepare for my first class. I pull my long brown hair up into a tight bun and strip out of my sweats and t-shirt, before slipping on a pair of comfy wrap dance shoes. The class is brutal, but I love it. When I’m done for the day, I head home to grab a quick shower before going next door to pick up my son.

  Chapter 2

  Azley

  “Azley, you can’t wear flip flops to a club! You look like a bum.”

  “Maybe the bum look is what I want to pull off tonight, Tatum. Ever think of that? Besides, it’s not like I’m going there to pick up a guy. Also, how did you get my mom to agree to keep Tyler all night?” I was dumbfounded when Tatum told me she called my mom to ask her about keeping him as she had him all weekend last week, but I wasn’t about to rock the boat. I rarely got out of the house for fun that didn’t include my little man, and the times I did were only for a few hours. I’m sure at some point during the night the guilt I’ll feel from being away will have me calling Uber to take me home.

  “That was easy. I told her you needed a girl’s night of wine and pampering. Facials, polished nails, and junk reality television were in order. She agreed with me that you are overdue for some me time.” With her hands on her hips, Tatum gave me smirk before glancing down at my shoe choice.

  “You lied to my mom? What are we, twelve?” I fist my hands on my hips, giving her my best glare while trying to hold back a grin.

  “Oh, just stop it. It wasn’t a lie. You do need me time. Time with ME, your best friend. Anyway, you forget I know you. I planned on you wanting to leave early. If you look in my fridge, you’ll find your favorite bottle of moscato. I have about ten episodes of Little Women: LA recorded to torture you with, and I even picked up your favorite ice cream.” I throw my arms around Tatum, squeezing her with all the love I have for my best friend. She does know me, better than anyone ever has.

  “You’re the best, Tatum. I love you, you know that? I’ll wear a pair of your flats, but I refuse to put on a pair of heels. My feet need a break. I had three classes yesterday, and by the time I got home from work, my right foot was swollen.” It was strange; my feet have never swollen up like that before. My right foot had felt like it was in a shoe two sizes too small. I figured my shoes had too many dance miles, so I went online to the discount dance store and ordered a new pair.

  Tatum grabs me a pair of champagne colored sandals with multi colored jewels adorning the strap across the toes. They go perfectly with the rose-pink sling halter dress I’m wearing. The outfit is cute but comfortable, which is perfect for the August heat in Arizona. It’s almost eight in the evening, but the temperature is still in the hundreds right now.

  “So, what’s Brad up to tonight? Is he disappointed he’s not getting his scheduled date night?” She’s mocking me; I can hear it in her tone.

  "First, it's none of his business what I do. We just hook up every other week. That's why it's called casual. Second, he has a business meeting with some guy named Jack. I’m pretty sure he’s hooking up with someone else, though. He sounded funny talking about this so-called meeting. Not that I really care. I do have other options when date night is cancelled."

  “If you think he’s cheating on you, why the hell do you stay with him? Seriously, Azley, I don’t get it.”

  “Who the hell ever said I was invested in him enough to “be with him”? He’s a great lay, that’s all there is too it.”

  “So, you don’t care that you’re basically screwing every girl he’s with, while he’s with you?” She asks. “I don’t buy it, girlfriend. Not for a second.”

  “The way I see it, every girl screws every girl their partner has been with; past and or present. Men are like dogs, running around in heat, fucking anything that looks their way. Now, can we please drop this subject?” Actually, I do care if he’s seeing someone else. We may only be having sex, but it’s supposed to be exclusive. I don’t condone cheating, no matter how casual the relationship, but I’ll be damned if I let another man affect me the way Eric did. I vowed never to be manipulated by men again; made myself bulletproof by closing off my heart and refusing to let emotion take over what’s supposed to be only a physical relationship.

  "Alrighty, subject dropped, let's get this show on the road. What's the name of this club we're going to?" Tatum smacks my ass as we walk out her door and head for the Uber car she ordered.

  "It's called Club Essence; it’s in Scottsdale. Hang on, Parker sent me the address." I pull my phone from my clutch and bring up the text, giving the driver the address to the club. When we arrive, I search for Parker and his friends in the line waiting outside. Thankfully, they’re close to the front so the wait to get in won’t be long.

  “Parker!” I call his name to get his attention. As we approach, three sets of eyes turn to greet us. One set is strikingly familiar, and they’re not Parker’s. “Holy shit,” I whisper.

  “Azley, Tatum, glad you could make it!” Parker enfolds us in a group hug before introducing us to his friends. “This is my roommate, Cal Simmonds, and my big brother, Evan. Guys, these beautiful creatures are Tatum Berschbach and Azley Jenkins.”

  I say hi to Cal, and turn towards Evan to do the same. I stare at him, wondering if it’s really him. And if it is, does he remember me?

  “Do you mind telling me what the fuck is going on?”

  “No, just, please, drop me off at that gas station on the corner. I can call my friend to come get me. I’m so sorry for jumping in your car. I just had to get away from him.” My entire body was shaking from adrenaline. I turned to look at him as he pulled into the gas station, and thought what beautiful whiskey colored eyes he had. They were hypnotizing, and showed a hint of compassion along with his confusion. I pushed open th
e car door before telling him, “Thanks for saving me back there.” I rushed inside the store without looking back and headed for the bathroom so I could call Tatum.

  “Nice to finally put a name to that gorgeous face. Glad to see it’s no longer soaked with tears.” Oh, my God, he does remember! I blush with embarrassment, at a loss with words. Tatum, however, is not. She remembers that night almost as vividly as I do.

  “Wait! Hold up a second here. You’re him! You’re the whiskey eyed savior! Oh shit, Azley, it’s him!” Tatum grabs my right arm and shakes it. I slap a hand over her mouth to silence her.

  Parker looks around at the three of us as we approach the door, looking every bit perplexed. “Whiskey eyed savior? What in the hell are they talking about, Evan?”

  “It’s nothing, Parker. Tatum’s just being her over dramatic self.” I give a Tatum a sideways look, begging silently for her to drop the subject. My gut suddenly feels like it’s weighted down with a boulder as I make my way inside. I can’t believe after three years I’ve run into him again. The Valley is filled with over four million people, so the odds were not in my favor of that ever happening. I knew Parker had an older brother, but I had never met him nor even knew his name.

  As we walk through the doors, we’re immediately bathed in flashing lights from the LED’s hanging from the ceiling and from the far back wall. There's a bar to the right of the entrance, and then another bar at the far end. A large dance floor sits in between the two bars, and the left side has a number of high top tables. The loud bass coming from the speakers mounted into the walls is like an unrelenting heartbeat, the mass of bodies moving in sync with the thumping and pulsing of the music.