The Real Thing

by Lexi Aurora

  That last part was meant as a joke, but it fell predictable flat. He waited for a beat or two and saw that Rebecca wasn’t about to offer her opinion.

  “What’s the matter, Becs?”

  "Don't call me that," she said shortly. He could have been wrong, but he thought he’d detected some tears in her voice, too.

  “I’m sorry. Is it because I didn’t say anything sooner?” he asked, the guilt on its way to reaching critical mass.

  “Are you sure about this, Liam?” she asked, answering his question with a question, something she knew he hated and yet still did often. “Are you really sure this is a good idea?”

  “It’s just a new living arrangement. There aren’t going to be any ‘I do’s’ anytime soon, I can promise you that.”

  “She’s beautiful. When I saw her in your arm at that gala thing, that was the first thing I thought. She’s probably the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen you with.”

  "Thanks," he answered, taken aback. Rebecca never complimented the women he had around, assuming they were there long enough for her to get a look. She hadn't had much to say about the women in his life since the first one, and that had been brutal for them both.

  “I’m not trying to piss you off. You know that, right?” she asked imploringly, with an uncharacteristic level of candor that made him sit up straighter in his seat.

  “I know. Not this time, right?” he answered, making a lame attempt at a joke. He didn’t expect it to make an impression and wasn’t surprised when she didn’t take the bait.

  "I just don't want to see you go through that again; you know what I mean? What happened with Tori was awful. That woman almost broke you, especially after everything that happened with Mom."

  "I was basically still a kid. All of us think we're going to die when our hearts get broken as kids," Liam answered, his voice a little more defensive than it should have been. Rebecca made a scoffing sound, and he knew before she said a word that his bullshit wasn't working on her. It worked on almost everyone but never, never on her.

  “Don’t do that, okay?”

  “Don’t do what?” he asked, starting to feel angry despite himself. If there was one thing he didn’t want to talk about, it was this. He had spent several years trying to forget everything that had to do with Tori. With the way her skin had smelled and her million-dollar smile. Of how it felt to wake up with her curled up beside him, morning after morning. Most importantly, of how his guts had clenched and his heart had almost exploded when he had come home early to find her in bed with one of his frat brothers he’d never really cared for but remained friends with out of inertia. It was such a cliché, finding them that way, that he’d almost had to laugh. Almost ten years later, he was still trying to make himself see the humor in it. He’d never been with a chick he thought about seriously again.

  “Don’t act like it was nothing because it wasn’t. I knew you then, remember? Because I do. It was awful.”

  “It was what it was,” he said, so tired he was sick to his stomach.

  “I don’t want you to get hurt again, that’s all. I don’t want you to move too quickly.”

  “I’m not. You don’t need to worry about me. I think if you met her you wouldn’t be so worried. She’s nothing like Tori.”

  "Funny you mention that," Rebecca said, her voice turning sly. Suddenly, Liam was completely alert; his fatigue momentarily wiped out by a surge of adrenaline. He should have known better than to think she was only calling to check on the status of his feelings. She had a reason, and he was willing to bet it wasn't one he was going to like.

  “Why funny, Becs? Why is that funny?” he asked wearily.

  “Well, I’m guessing you forgot about this, but I was planning on calling you before I saw your little night out on the town with the beautiful girl.”

  “Okay?” he responded.

  “Did you forget about lunch next week? Please say you did. I bet Max twenty bucks that you would so tell the truth. You know how much I hate to lose.”

  “Shit,” Liam hissed, smacking his forehead with his hand, “is that seriously next week?”

  “Yes!” Rebecca crowed. It didn’t matter that he was so clearly not interested. Rebecca was only thinking about two things: being right and getting to tell her husband, Max, that he needed to cough up.

  “Okay, I’ll move some things around. I can make that work. But I don’t see what that’s got to do with Felicity.”

  “Sure you do. Think about it for a minute,” Rebecca insisted, sounding utterly victorious and totally in charge.

  “No. No way. I’m not bringing her to that thing.”

  “Come on! You have to. She’s living with you, for Christ’s sake. How do you think she’s going to take it if you don’t invite her to a family lunch?”

  “I don’t think she’ll care,” he said slowly, feeling his way around the lie, “I doubt she’d want to come.”

  "Okay, then how about this? If you don't bring her to the lunch, I'm going to show up at your front door. I'll choose a time when you're definitely going to be at work. I'll get us both good and drunk, and then I'll tell her every one of your deep, dark secrets that I can think of. Or you can just bring her to the damn lunch. Either way, I'm going to meet the chick shacking up with my brother. Your choice."

  "Fine. I'll bring her, but you have to promise to be nice," Liam answered grudgingly.

  “I’ll play nice if she plays nice, how about that?” she countered, quick and sharp as ever.

  “Fine. We’ll just leave it at that. Now, is that all? Because I’ve got a hell of a lot of work to do. Some of us have jobs, or did you forget?” he asked, poking the bear just because he could.

  "Sure, big bro, go ahead and be important. Do what you do. We'll see each other soon." Rebecca, in normal style, hung up the phone before he could say anything else. He was glad to be off the phone, even if it was one of his favorite people in the world he was talking to. His reason for hanging up was no bullshit. He had a hell of a lot of work to do and not enough hours in the day to get it all done. Still, for a long time, he didn't do anything but sit there thinking about what he had waiting at home for him. It wasn't real. None of what was going on was real, so why did it feel so much like it was?

  Chapter Eleven

  Felicity Reynolds

  “Hey, can I talk to you?”

  Felicity flinched even as she asked the question. She strongly suspected that those were about the last words any man wanted to hear. That had to go double for a man she wasn't actually dating, he most definitely hadn't signed on for heart to hearts. He was paying her to stay at his house, for God's sake. She was very well-paid bait, a moving target. So what if they had accidentally slept together? Twice. If she was getting confused, if she was "catching feelings" as Lena liked to call it, that was her fault. She already knew all of this, and yet here she was, accosting him almost as soon as he walked through his front door. Great. Really fantastic start.

  “Um, sure, I guess. I’m pretty damned tired though so try to make it quick,” Liam said, walking towards his office without so much as looking at her. She felt the first flicker of irritation but reminded herself of the situation and padded after him, down the hall and into his home office. It wasn’t until he was comfortably behind his desk that he made eye contact. Felicity squirmed under the weight of his eyes. She felt at such a disadvantage, him behind the desk and her standing in front of it, like a little girl waiting to be scolded for doing something wrong.

  “Ok,” she started shakily, then cleared her throat in the hopes of sounding at least a little more sure of herself. “Okay, sure. I just wanted to talk to you about the other night.”

  "Which other night?" he asked, glancing down at his papers already. It was like she wasn't completely there, like he was dismissing her before she even got a chance to state her case. Her stomach lurched uncomfortably. She hated confrontation, and that was exactly what this was starting to feel like. Underneath the discomfort though, sh
e was starting to get angry. This whole innocent, ‘I have no idea what you're talking about’ act was infuriating. She didn't believe for a second that Liam honestly didn't know which evening she was talking about. She didn't think it meant nothing to him, either. She had seen him looking her over when he didn't think she was paying attention. She could even see him trying to stop himself from doing it now, for God's sake, and still, he was going to make her come out and say it.

  “The night when I cooked, Liam. The night with the pool,” she said with measured patience. Whatever game he was playing, she needed him to stop. Not only wanted him to stop but needed it.

  “Oh, right. What about it?”

  "Um. I don't know. I guess I want to know why you left like you did. It was weird, waking up and having you gone," she said finally, hating how needy it sounded. At least it got him to stop rifling through the things on his desk, but when he looked her in the eye, she wasn't sure it was a good thing.

  “Look, maybe we should have talked about this sooner. That’s on me.”

  “I’m not trying to make a huge thing about it,” she said quickly, regretting bringing things up more and more by the second.

  “It’s just that I made things kind of complicated and I shouldn’t have. I think you’re wonderful.”

  “Are you kidding me?” she asked, almost exploding internally. It was too much, getting the “it’s not you, it’s me” speech. Too much and all of the sudden she was really and truly pissed off. He drew back a little, surprise registering on his face.

  “What?” he asked hesitantly. At least some of the rich boy swagger he’d adopted was gone. At least she’d managed to wipe the smug smirk off his face.

  “Nothing. It’s fine. I get it now. I’ve got my answer.”

  “Felicity, I-”

  "No, really. It's just a job position, and I let my head get turned. It won't happen again."

  “Please, Felicity. I didn’t mean to say-”

  But she didn’t stay to hear the rest of what he had to say. She couldn't. She could already feel the hot tears pooling at the back of her throat and threatening to well up and betray her. She spun on her heels and hurried back down the hallway, ignoring him calling her name again, ignoring the sound of his chair scraping abruptly across the smooth wooden floor. She didn’t stop moving until she was safely behind her own closed door.

  “OKAY, SISTER, SHIT just got real.”

  “Lena? What are you doing here? I didn’t think you were going to come to the house.”

  Felicity sat up in bed, rubbing her bleary eyes and trying to force herself to wake up faster. Calling Lena hadn't even been a choice. It was just what she did when something awful or frightening or too confusing happened, that she couldn’t handle on her own. When she was in her own little apartment, it was far from unusual for Lena to just turn up, but it hadn't occurred to Felicity that she would show up at Liam's house. Nevertheless, here she was, standing in the open doorway with her hands on her hips and a slightly harried-looking Matt standing behind her. When he caught Felicity's eye, he shrugged his shoulders and made a "What can you do?" gesture that made her smile in spite of everything. If Lena caught the exchange, she didn't let on. She was too busy giving Felicity her best disapproving look.

  “If you had ever given me the address yourself, I would have been here a couple of days ago,” she chided, “and I would have been on the stupid guest list thingy this bad boy behind me has got.”

  “There’s no guest list,” Matt interjected uncertainly, “that’s what I was trying to tell you downstairs.”

  "Sure, whatever you say. All I'm saying is, I would have had an easier time getting in to see you if you'd bothered to send an invitation," Lena said decisively. She glanced at Matt over her shoulder and, astonishingly, blew him a little kiss. Matt's face went beet red and after giving them both a curt, tight nod he fled, shutting the door behind him. Lena looked back at Felicity, shrugged, and the two of them broke into a fit of giggles.

  “Oh, Lord, Lena. What did you do to the poor guy?” Felicity laughed, propping herself against what felt like dozens of pillows and sat up straighter. Lena rolled her eyes and flopped down on the bed, staring at the ceiling and chuckling to herself.

  “I didn’t do anything to him. I just made it clear that I was coming in to see you one way or the other,” she said nonchalantly.

  "Really? Because he looked completely shell-shocked."

  “Yeah, I know. I tend to have that effect on people. You wanna know something?”

  “You know I do,” Felicity said with a smile, starting to enjoy herself despite how weird she’d been feeling as of late.

  “I think he’s kind of cute.”

  "What?!" Felicity squealed happily. She didn't know what she'd been expecting to come out of Lena's mouth, but it definitely wasn't that.

  “What?” Lena said, sitting up and shrugging, “He’s got that kind of G. I. Joe thing going on. It’s kind of sexy. I’m just saying that I wouldn’t throw him out of bed, is all.”

  “Good to know,” Felicity laughed.

  “I’m sure it is but that’s not why I’m here. I’m here to talk about you.”

  "You seriously didn't have to come," Felicity said quietly, squirming under the covers. She needed this. She needed to have this conversation and get things off her chest but now that it was happening, she was one step below terrified. When Lena grabbed her oversized purse and pulled out a pregnancy test, the fear was full blown.

  “No,” she said, gasping the word as if she had been physically burned, “you didn’t need to bring that.”

  "Sorry lady, but I think I did. You told me the way you were feeling, and I think this is a real possibility. You remember when my sister got pregnant?"

  “Sure, but-”

  “I called that way before she was willing to believe me. Are you telling me you don’t think there’s any chance?”

  Lena wouldn't allow Felicity to break eye contact. Felicity felt like she had been mesmerized by even the idea of taking a pregnancy test, especially since it had never occurred to her that pregnancy could be on the table. Sure, she was late, but that wasn't such an unusual thing for her. She'd been irregular on that front for years. The rest of it she'd just been chalking up to so much change so quickly, which she didn't deal well with, and then the fight with Liam. Maybe some part of her, some part she'd kept buried deep down, had considered the idea but only briefly. Now it was real, and even as she took the test from Lena with numb fingers, a little voice in her head was screaming that she wasn't ready for this.

  “Do it,” Lena pushed, nudging her off the bed, “hurry up. I want to know what we’re dealing with here.”

  "I'm going," Felicity grumbled, shutting herself in the bathroom. It was only a couple of minutes, but it felt like her whole life. A couple of minutes and by the time she walked back out of the bathroom, with Lena looking at her expectantly she felt like she was living in a dream, or maybe a different person's life altogether. She just stood there in the open door and looked at Lena stupidly.

  “Well?” Lena asked her, sounding a little nervous herself, “What’s the verdict, kiddo?”

  “I’m pregnant,” Felicity answered, her voice very far away, “I’m pregnant, Lena. I’m going to have a baby.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Liam North

  As a general rule, Liam wasn't a guy who second-guessed himself. He was even less likely to regret the things he did. The thing with Felicity, though, it was under his skin, and it wasn't going anywhere. He'd hardly seen her for almost a week, thanks to the enormous size of his house, and every day he was getting more antsy about it. He wasn't sleeping well, and his employees were all suffering the consequences of his bad moods. He felt like a tiger in a cage two sizes too small; a cage still steadily shrinking. It was the powerlessness that really did it. It was the feeling of uselessness that really got to him. By the end of the week, it was driving him so crazy that he couldn't take it anymore, or at least
not lying down. It was really just Matty's dumb luck, or lack thereof, that brought Liam into the house's security headquarters.

  “Yo, boss,” Matty said, his voice as friendly as ever, “What’s up?”

  “Nothing,” Liam sighed, sitting back in one of the slightly worn out club chairs, “nothing at all.”

  "Really? Because if you don't mind me saying, you kind of look like shit," Matt answered, frowning a little. He was going out on a limb, talking to his boss like that, and both of them knew it. There were probably plenty of bosses who would have been pissed off by the presumptuousness of the comment, but Liam wasn't one of them. Even if he was, he currently lacked the energy. He smiled ruefully at Matt and ran a hand over his eyes.

  “I look like shit, huh? Good to know,” he said ruefully.

  “What’s going on? Anything I can do to help?”

  "I don't know. No, not really. We could go through the Felicity situation since I'm here."

  “You’re calling her the situation now. Interesting plan,” Matt said, smiling without looking all that amused. Liam sat up straighter in his chair and leaned forward, resting his chin on his steepled fingers.

  “Is there a problem?” he asked, his hackles raising. The smart move would be to leave; just head out of the room and talk to Matt when he wasn’t in such a shitty mood. Except that now he was interested. He wanted to know what Matt was getting at because there was clearly something. Matt looked at him wearily, then shook his head.

  “No, nothing. She seemed a little off this week, though. Except for when her friend came to see her.”

  "What?" Liam asked slowly. Matt looked at him quickly, and there was a look in his eyes that Liam didn't like. He couldn't put his finger on it, but it looked a hell of a lot like reproach, and that was the last thing in the world he was in the mood for today.