by Kata Čuić
“So…” Tori chuckles then flags down the bartender.
“You don’t have to get drunk tonight to distract me,” I blurt.
She raises an eyebrow. “I was going to order a glass of wine. I’d like very much not to sound like a robot if I end up having to read Evie’s prepared speech.”
Shit. Evie’s been holding out on me.
“So, you know about the mastitis?” Damn it, Mitchell. That’s all you’ve got? Really?
Tori nods then orders a chardonnay. “Yes. I’ve been staying with them for the past few days while we put the finishing touches on the plans for tonight.” She shudders. “I’m not sure I ever want to have babies after hearing Evie’s howls of pain in the middle of the night. And that’s not even labor!”
Okay. So, it’s not just me. We’re really doing this. I guess finding a neutral middle ground of commiseration isn’t the worst thing in the world. Definitely better than the disjointed way we left things between us.
“Rob is barely functional even though he’s completely sober. I’ve read studies that sleep deprivation can cause the same symptoms as intoxication, but I’ve never seen it for myself before. I really like sleep. I don’t want to give it up anytime soon.”
She nods, her eyes wide. “I haven’t slept in three days. Three days! That kid is up screaming at all hours of the night! I had to do my own concealer this morning, and you know how bad I am at that!”
She’s just given me the perfect excuse to lean in close and study her makeup. If I happen to deeply inhale her peachy sweet scent like a total addict going through withdrawal, that’s just an accidental bonus. Somehow, I manage to fight the urge to pull her shirt a little tighter. Those buttons still look ready to pop.
“You forgot the setting power again, didn’t you?”
She gazes at my chest in horror like she might have left a yellow mark behind even though she hasn’t so much as touched me. “How did you know?”
I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I’d hate for her to embarrass herself even more. “You’ve got some, uh, creasing going on.”
“What?” She covers her cheeks with her hands, but it doesn’t do anything to hide the furious blush that bleeds through the makeup.
“It’s okay. I can fix it.” I pull her hands away and gently smudge the sensitive skin beneath her eyes as she watches me intently.
“We’re in public, Mike. People are watching you fix my makeup right now.”
Shit, she’s right. My greedy hands took the first opportunity she offered without thinking this would embarrass her just as much. I cup her cheeks to hide what I’m really doing. “No, they’re seeing two people share an intimate moment after being apart for so long.”
“You might have a future in marketing.” She chuckles then sighs. Most importantly, she does not deny we’re sharing something here. “The makeup doesn’t matter. I’m horribly underdressed. I already look like an idiot.”
“You look beautiful as always,” I insist. “Did Robbie spit up on your nice dress or something? Was this a back-up?”
“No.” Her cheeks flame again. It’s all I can do not to kiss her. “I packed the wrong stuff in my rush to make my flight.”
I’m not sure what else to say. Already, her makeup looks fine, but I can’t bring myself to let her go. “I’d offer you my jacket, but you have one of your own.”
Her smile is just a shade self-deprecating. “I’m not sure yours would fit any better than mine either. At least no one has mistaken me for a prostitute yet.”
We laugh together. God, I miss laughing with her. I miss everything with her.
Her brown sugar eyes bore into mine. A second longer, and I won’t be able to play it cool anymore.
“Miss Russo,” a panted voice interrupts our staring match. “We can’t find the laptop with the slide projections on it.”
Tori breaks her hypnotizing gaze. “I’ll be right there, Paul. I’m sorry,” she tells me. “I have to go.”
I can’t take it anymore. I lean down and kiss her cheek. “Don’t apologize. It’s your job. You’re doing amazing work for Sing Out. You’re going to be the one to finally turn this foundation around. I know it.”
“Thank you,” she breathes. Then, she’s gone.
New faces come and go. I shake hands, smile for cameras, and play nice. Not just because Tori taught me how to work a room, but because I really do want to see this foundation take off. It’s something we all believe in.
“Well?” Alex questions when he finds me in the crowd again. “How’d it go? Did you win back the girl?”
“Nah.” I snatch an appetizer off a passing tray. Dinner isn’t for another hour, and I’m starving after all this schmoozing. “I just wanted to see her.”
“What?” he whines while grabbing a bite for himself. “After all that recon I did? What happened to your grand groveling plan? Did you at least tell her you know it wasn’t her who got you benched all season?”
“No. She’s busy and nervous tonight. This is her first gala. I wasn’t going to be selfish by unloading all that shit on her when she’s trying to do her job. Besides, just because she’s my unicorn doesn’t mean I’m hers,” I answer calmly with my mouth full. The more I chew, the less calm I feel. “Alex? Does this taste fishy to you?”
“It’s not the best I’ve ever had,” he admits after swallowing.
“No. I mean, does it taste like seafood?”
“I guess.” He shrugs. “Hard to tell what’s in the weird paste they plop on a cracker and have the nerve to call food.”
Oh, shit. Peaches.
“Mmm. These canapés are delicious,” I mumble to Evie, covering my mouth with my hand. “I can’t get enough.”
“I’m kind of disappointed.” She squints at the petite cracker clutched in her fingers. “When I ordered hors d’oeuvres service, I thought there’d be…more.”
“Huh.” Rob rocks back and forth on his heels, his hands stuffed in his pockets and a weird smile on his face. “I’m already full. I don’t even care about dinner.”
“Shut up,” she hisses. “You said you wanted to help, and I was desperate.”
His grin spreads. “I did a great job. You should ask me for help more often.”
She rubs her forehead. “I’ve created a monster. I really should’ve known better.”
“You really should have,” he laughs.
My gaze flits back and forth between them, questions perched on the tip of my tongue.
My tongue that’s tingling.
Suddenly, I know why I can’t get enough of the tasty bites. I drop the rest of them along with the napkin onto the floor.
“Oh, fuck.”
Evie and Rob snap their attention to me.
She wraps her hand around my elbow. “What’s wrong?”
“Crab.” My throat itches. “There’s crabmeat in them.”
“What?” she squeals. “Rob, call 911.”
“Need Mike.” Already, a burning sensation spreads across my skin. I don’t have much time. I spin around and only make it a few steps before strong arms catch me on the way down. “I don’t…have…my EpiPen,” I wheeze.
“I’ve got you, babe.” He reaches into the pocket of his pants and pulls out my lifeline, popping the cap off with his teeth before stabbing me in the thigh.
Just like I taught him.
My limbs are too heavy to touch his handsome face with the worried eyes.
He caresses my cheek instead. “Hey, you don’t need to die just to avoid me.”
“Happy…you’re…last…thing…I…see,” I lisp, my tongue too big for my mouth.
“Then, stay. Stay with me.” He kisses my forehead then glances away.
Sounds are fuzzy, but someone says, “ETA, two minutes.”
“Does anyone have an EpiPen?” Mike yells.
Another appears. Mike injects me again.
I barely feel it.
“I love you, Peaches,” he whispers against my swollen lips.
> The world goes dark.
I crack my eyes open to a dimly lit hospital room. The starched sheets scratch against my hypersensitive skin. Legions of ants are crawling around inside me. My muscles tremble, but my body is too heavy to move to relieve the tension.
“You sure do love your crab,” a low voice chuckles beside me. “Evie said you popped down at least ten of those things. It’s no wonder we had to do two injections.”
I inhale deeply—a lungful of glorious, sweet air. “The food was supposed to be safe. I didn’t realize until it was way too late.”
“Accidents happen.” His face comes into view when he rests his chin on the edge of the bed. He looks exhausted, but he’s still smiling. “I’m just glad someone else had an EpiPen they didn’t hesitate to hand over.”
I’m just glad he’s still here with me. “Why did you have one?”
He finds my hand beneath the blankets and squeezes. “Ever since you showed me how to work yours, I’ve always carried one with me in case you need it.”
Tears blur my vision, but I blink them back. The memory of the last time my vision went fuzzy is still too fresh. “We haven’t even lived in the same city for almost a year.”
“I know, but it seemed stupid not to still carry it if it could save someone else’s life in an emergency.”
“You are one of the best men I have ever met,” I breathe then breathe again. Just because I can.
He pulls my hand up to his lips. “I wasn’t the best man when I screamed at you for doing what you had to do to save my dumb skull. I blamed you for losing my spot on the starting roster, and you weren’t even the reason I got benched. I wanted to apologize at the gala, but I didn’t want to interrupt your work either.”
I’m still weirdly jittery yet foggy from all the medications coursing through my system. I’m absolutely incapable of filtering my thoughts. “I tried though. I tried to get you benched. I went straight to Mr. Gallo. He didn’t believe me. He said I was only pulling a stupid stunt because I was your jilted ex-lover.”
Mike shakes his head, a smile spreading across his face. “I’m a sack of potatoes; you’re a jilted ex-lover. That guy has a very vivid imagination but a terrible way with words.”
“How can you be so calm about all this?”
He frowns. “Because I learned a really hard lesson. I’m ashamed of the way I lost my temper with you. Violence never solves anything. I would know.”
“I would argue intentional violence actually saved your mother’s life.”
He smirks then taps my nose that thankfully doesn’t itch at all. “I know what I’m capable of, Peaches. Not a day goes by that I forget. That’s why I needed to keep you away for a while. I stand by that decision. I’m fucking grateful you weren’t there that day to see me break my TV. That’s still no excuse for the way I screamed at you.”
I swallow, my throat blissfully free of hot razor blades. “You were understandably upset about being blindsided. I should have talked to you more about it. What kind of PR rep can’t even mount a convincing argument for why sitting out is the best course of action? To her own boyfriend?”
He squints a little. “The kind that knows how thick-headed I am?”
We laugh. Tiny pinpricks of happiness spread across my skin where hives used to be.
“How did you do it?” I whisper, those stupid tears building up again.
“Become this stubborn?” He straightens and shrugs. “Persevering through adversity, I guess.”
“No. How did you stay so calm while I was basically dying in your arms?” A shudder rolls through me. That was a close call. Too close.
“You needed me to be calm,” he says simply. “If I had panicked, you might not have made it until the ambulance arrived.”
“I panicked,” I admit. “From the split-second I saw you take that hit on TV. I’m still panicking. I can’t stay calm. I can’t even watch anymore.”
“I know.” He stands up and stuffs his hands in his pockets. He’s still wearing a tux. He’s a thousand times more devastating with the top buttons of his shirt undone and the bow tie hanging loose around his neck. “I’m happy as hell you put your foot down with me. You shouldn’t have to be panicked for the rest of your life—either because you’re worried about what’s going to happen on the field or because you have to worry about how I might take it out on you.” He nods. “I’ve always respected you, Tori, but that was some next-level shit you stood up to that day.” He chuckles. “I’m so fucking proud to know you.”
I’m in marketing. I know a shit sandwich when I hear one. “You didn’t come to the gala to pull off some grand gesture to win me back, did you? You came to say goodbye.”
He sort of laughs and blows out a breath at the same time. His smile is wide, but he stares at the floor. “I’m not the grand gesture kind of guy. Alex sure as hell was hoping, but no. You laid out your terms, and I have to respect them.” He raises his gaze to mine. “I’m not going to quit playing ball, but you deserve more than an apology over the phone.”
A sob builds in my chest, but I laugh away the pressure. “You went above and beyond, Mitchell. Saving my life is a damn good apology.”
He winks. “I’ve always been a hard worker when I put my mind to something.”
We laugh a little more, but it’s strained now.
His hand is on the doorknob. “The doctors said you’d be groggy for a while. They want to keep you overnight to make sure you don’t have any delayed reactions. I’m gonna crash at Rob and Evie’s place. If you need anything, call or text. I’ll answer.”
“When is your flight back to Albany?” I croak out, my throat feeling tight again.
“Tomorrow afternoon. I only got approved time off because this is a really good charity to publicize for the team.”
“Right.” I nod. “You have to get back to work to be ready for the playoffs now that you’re off the IR.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Thought you couldn’t watch anymore?”
“I can still read,” I mumble, my cheeks flaming.
Mike chuckles as he opens the door. “Get some rest, Peaches. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I whisper to an empty room.
I can’t fight it anymore. I didn’t want to give in. Not because I was afraid he wouldn’t choose me. Because I was afraid he would, and neither of us would be able to live with the kind of consequences I’ve had to live with my whole life. Ever since my mom chose me.
If he’s willing to respect my terms, then I have to respect his, too.
“What?” I yell. Then, immediately remember the sleeping woman upstairs who hears people sneeze in China. “What the fuck, Alex?” I whisper.
“Watch your language, Michael,” Evie’s mom admonishes from the living room. “There are young ears present.”
“Honestly, you three,” Rob’s mom joins in. “If you’re going to act like you did in high school, at least take it outside by the pool.”
I’m surprised they’re even paying attention to anything other than the babbling baby on the playmat between them.
Rob rolls his eyes and mutters, “This is my house.”
“We had sex ed in ninth grade, Mitchell.” Alex props his arms in a wide stance on the kitchen counter with a grin like he just knows he’s inviting mayhem. “Do you really need me to explain to you how a sperm and egg fuse together to make a baby?”
“Alex!” Rob’s mom snaps.
He laughs.
“No,” I drag out, much more quietly. “I need you to explain to me how you didn’t learn the part about condoms and birth control.”
“No method is one-hundred percent effective.” Alex grins. “Accidents happen.”
“Those chances are reduced when you use multiple methods,” I argue.
He shrugs. “It was a passionate moment. We were careless. It was only one time.”
“One time is all it takes.” I blow out a breath. I’m nervous on his behalf. “What are you gonna do?”
“She’s staying with me through the rest of the pregnancy, but she doesn’t want to get married. She knows how I am.”
I blink. “Do you want to get married? Who is she anyway?”
He grins. “Remember my hot tutor from college? Amira?”
I glance at Rob, but he’s staring into space. “I remember she didn’t want anything to do with your ass, no matter how many stops you pulled out. How is she pregnant with your baby now?”
His smile is reaching blindingly annoying levels. “I’m too charming to resist forever.”
Yeah. Something’s not adding up here. “What are the odds of her living in Orlando now, too?”
“Pretty good. She’s the team therapist.”
Oh, this just gets better and better. Or worse and worse. Jury’s still out.
Rob’s still being suspiciously quiet.
I wave at him. “Is this part of that whole sleep-deprived, fuzzy-brained new parent thing? You’re really not going to react to this news at all?”
He shrugs and leans against the counter like it’s literally holding him up. “I already knew.”
“What?” I glance between the dynamic duo, side by side like always. A sense of betrayal pricks my chest. I stare Alex down. “You’ve been riding my ass for months about how to win Tori back, and you couldn’t even mention this to me?”
He shrugs. “Dude, you had bigger problems to deal with.”
I point at Falls. “He just had a baby and never gets any sleep!”
“Exactly.” Alex nods. “He just had a baby, so he’s obviously got more experience than either of us.”
I can’t argue that, actually. My phone dings with an incoming text. It’s Tori.
Peaches: They’re keeping me an extra night. I had another slight reaction a few hours ago. I’m sorry I won’t get to see you again before your flight.
I rise from my chair and head toward the patio. It’s way too loud in here. “I’ll be right back. This conversation isn’t over.”
The second I close the French doors behind me, I’m pressing her name.
She picks up on the first ring. “Hey. You must be heading to the airport. I just didn’t want you to worry since I hadn’t sent any updates all morning.”
