by Emma Louise
“Go home. Get some rest. We’ll manage without you,” he says gently, not pressing me to tell him what’s wrong. The thing is, I don’t want to go home. I can’t hide from the loneliness there. I like being here, having people around.
“I’ll go after I get done with this.” I give in, not telling him that I really have no intention of leaving anytime soon. I know he sees through me, though. I wait for him to push me, and I can see him trying to decide if today is the day he makes me talk to him.
“You’re not alone. You know that, right?” Keir says softly. “You have us. We're your family, and we love you.” I feel my sinuses sting at his words. “You have our support in whatever way you need it, whenever you’re ready to ask for it. Just do me a favor?” he asks, reaching across my desk to put his hand over mine, giving me a gentle squeeze. “Tell Pop before she works it out.” His eyes drop to my stomach which has just started to protrude slightly over the last few days.
I’m not surprised Keir worked it out. I’ve managed to avoid spending much time with Poppy and Elliott, but there’s no escaping how much time I spend here at work. With how tired I’ve been, the sickness, and now my tiny bump, it’s a miracle he didn’t work it out sooner.
“She’ll be hurt you kept it from her, but you’re her best friend, and she’ll get over it.”
“I’ll tell her and Elliott soon. I promise.”
“Congratulations. You’re going to make a fantastic mom.” He grins at me, and I lose the battle with my tears. They fall over my lashes and coat my cheeks as Keir moves around my desk to give me a hug. He’s right, as always. I need to tell my friends, the only real family I have, what’s going on. Keeping it locked up isn’t doing me any favors.
“You really think so?” I ask, voicing a concern I’ve been trying not to face.
“I know it.” He lets me go, grabbing some tissues from the holder on my desk so I can clean up my face.
“You need to stop isolating yourself. It’s not good for either of you. Go home and sleep. We’ll pick you up at seven tonight.”
I’d totally forgotten that I made plans for dinner tonight with everyone for Elliott’s birthday. Pregnancy has turned my brain to mush. As much as I want to bail, I know I can’t do that to my friend.
***
Standing in front of my full-length mirror, I regret agreeing to going out tonight.
I don’t look pregnant, but I don’t look like myself either. My body is changing so fast it amazes me every day. My boobs are huge, for starters. None of my usual tops fit properly anymore, and if I turn up with miles of cleavage on show, my friends will know something is up. And don’t even get me started on jeans; none of them button up anymore. Dresses are out of the question since the only ones I own are skin-tight, and there’s no hiding my small bump.
I’ve had to settle on a pair of stretchy leather-look trousers and a loose-fitting white T with small black details. Throwing on some plain black strappy heels and a leather jacket, I tell myself that will have to do. My dark hair is down, and I even made the effort to curl the ends. It’s the most effort I’ve made in weeks, and I feel better for it already. I just hope I’m not underdressed.
I’m just finishing up transferring everything I need from my everyday purse to a smaller clutch when the buzzer to my apartment sounds. Making sure my door is locked, I make my way downstairs to where Keir has their car parked at the curb. Always the gentleman, he gets out when he sees me and opens the rear door, helping me get in.
“That outfit is hot,” Poppy tells me, not bothering to say hello. I’m happy to see she’s dressed in something similar enough. Dark skinny jeans and a cute shirt. “Or I should say, you look hot in it.”
“You’re good for my ego.” I laugh, buckling my seatbelt as Keir waits to pull out into the busy evening traffic. Poppy and I get lost in small talk as Keir focuses on driving. We talk about the boys who are spending the night with Keir’s parents, and some new classes we’re thinking of adding to the schedule at the gym. It’s nice to spend time with her, just chatting about nothing important. It’s also a reminder that I need to hurry up and tell her I’m pregnant, so I can stop being such a shitty friend.
We’re so busy catching up that I don’t notice Keir has parked the car. Looking around, I don’t recognize where we are. “I thought we were going to Marco’s?” I ask as we all climb out of the car and stand on the sidewalk.
“We are, after.”
“After what?”
“After we meet the guys here,” Poppy says, flinging her arm out toward the shop we’re standing in front of.
Inkcognito.
The fancy gold letting stands out in stark relief against the black background of the sign, hanging above the window. There’s a smaller banner spread underneath that declares ‘Grand Opening.’ in bold lettering.
“I have no idea what’s going on. Is someone getting a tattoo?”
“If you ever bothered to read your emails, you would have seen the invitation I accepted on your behalf,” Poppy says.
That familiar sinking feeling hits me as we step inside the shop. There are people everywhere, most with drinks in hand. There’s even a DJ set up in a corner, playing music.
I spot Elliott and Duke toward the back of the room, TJ and Breeze standing nearby. Hayden is here too, and I’m reminded that it’s been too long since we’ve spoken. He’s always busy with shifts at the firehouse, and lately I’ve been busy avoiding all the important people in my life. As usual, he’s found a group of women to flirt with, and he doesn’t even notice we've arrived.
Looking around, I wrack my brain trying to think of who I know that would invite all of us to a place like this. TJ, Hayden, and Duke all have tattoos, but the rest of us don’t as far as I know. My eyes take in the space. I don’t think I’ve ever actually been in a tattoo studio, but it’s not what I would have thought. The walls are a clean, crisp white, decorated with huge black and white photographs. The pictures are super close-ups of bare tattooed skin. It shouldn’t look as classy as it somehow does. Why do I feel like I’ve seen something similar before?
There’s a sleek black reception desk and seating area at the front, and each side of the room has two tattoo stations. Everything looks clean and fresh. At the back of the room there’s a hallway that I can’t see down from here.
“This place looks amazing,” Poppy announces as we make it to where the guys are standing, drinks in hand.
“It really does,” Breeze answers, and I feel like a fool for apparently being the only person who has no clue why we’re here. I don’t want to point out my ignorance by asking. Instead, I stand there, quietly sipping on the soda that Keir passes me. Thankfully, nobody asks why I skipped the wine that’s on offer.
I'm cradling the cool glass in my hands when I’m pushed from behind. A curvy bottle-blonde is too busy talking to her equally blonde friend to notice she just barged into me. They’ve got their heads close together as they giggle over something. “He’s taking me home tonight for sure,” blondie number one drawls. Good for her; at least someone is getting lucky.
“We’re all so proud of him,” Breeze continues, her words catching my attention. Awareness starts to prickle at my senses. I hope to god I’m wrong, but I’m starting to get the feeling that I know who we’re here for. “Asa and the guys have put so much work into this place.”
And there it is. I’m standing in Asa’s tattoo studio.
My gut instinct is to make an excuse and leave. I don’t think I can be around him while all my friends are here too. We can’t seem to manage a civil conversation on our own, let alone when we have an audience. I should leave before he sees me. I’m wracking my brain, trying to think of a reason for me to leave when I see him at the other end of the room, standing in a quiet corner. He’s wearing jeans that look like they’ve been washed a million times. The soft material is worn through in places. His white t-shirt highlights his tanned skin, and the sleeves hug his tattooed arms perfectly. He’s sha
ved. The beard is gone, replaced with what looks like a few days' worth of stubble lining his jaw. But none of that is what my eyes are fixated on.
It’s the petite blonde standing close to his side that has me glued in place. I only see the back of her, but I recognize her from a few minutes ago. I can tell she’s stunning, even if I hadn’t seen her earlier. The dress she’s wearing hugs all of her generous curves. Her head barely reaches Asa’s shoulder, but there isn’t an inch of space between them. I keep staring, transfixed as Asa leans down to speak closer to her ear. I didn’t think it’s¹ possible, but her body actually moves even closer to his. She tilts her head back to look up at him and nods, and he obviously likes that because he smirks at her, his dimples popping out before putting his hand on the small of her back and walking her over to another group of people. It’s not one of his rare smiles, but it’s a million miles away from the scowls that I only seem to get from him lately.
Jealousy. Ugly, twisted jealousy snakes up my spine.
I can’t do this. A rush of saliva hits my throat, and I’m going to throw up. Ripping my eyes off them, I turn back to my friends, ready to tell them I need to go. TJ is staring at me, a look of confused concern on his face, and I get the feeling he’s been doing it for a while. Hard eyes bounce between me and where Asa and the blonde were just standing.
“I need to go.” I force the words out, but an unwanted swell of emotion makes them sound more like a pained rasp. But TJ must get it, the desperation I’m feeling, because he gently cups my elbow and leads me outside.
“I’m sorry,” I gasp as soon as we make it past the front doors. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight.” I try to speak past the burning in my throat. “I think I need to get home; I must be coming down with something.”
“I’ll take you,” he says, digging in his pocket for his keys.
“Don’t be stupid. I’ll call an Uber,” I say, pulling my phone out of my bag and opening the app.
“We’ve got her,” Keir says, plucking the phone out of my hand before I have the chance to stop him. Poppy stands at his side, and the concern on her face stabs at me. I can feel the walls I’ve been building around myself crumble in the face of my friend’s kindness.
“Please, Luce. Let us take you home.”
***
“I’m pregnant,” I blurt it out, causing Poppy to choke on the big gulp of wine she’s just taken.
After I agreed to let them bring me home, Poppy stayed here with me while we sent Keir out to get some food. I’m not remotely hungry, but I think he sensed that I needed a minute alone with my friend.
“What?” she gasps as soon as she’s stopped coughing. “How?”
“Remember I told you about that guy I met, but it didn’t work out. The one I was pretty bummed about?”
“A few months back? I remember. You never did tell me what happened with him.”
“It was over before it started, and the reasons don’t even matter anymore,” I tell her. “I found out I was pregnant a few weeks later. We’re still trying to work out how to navigate the situation.” I hope that’s enough information to sate her for the time being. I have no idea what to do about sharing the fact that Asa is my baby’s dad. I can’t think about him right now.
“So you must be...” Her voice trails off as she tries to do the math.
“Almost fourteen weeks,” I finish for her.
“And you didn’t tell me 'til now?” There’s no mistaking the hurt in her voice. It cuts me to know I've upset her, but I'm hoping she gets past it.
“I’m sorry. It was a lot to take in, and to be honest, I haven't been ready to talk about it.”
“Is everything okay?” There it is, her concern for me outweighs her annoyance.
“Everything is perfect. The sickness and feeling like I could sleep for a week have taken some getting used to, but I’m good. The baby is good.”
Poppy is happy for me, even if she’s a little shocked. She knows this is something I’ve always wanted. “I’m going to be an aunty?” she asks, awe in her voice.
We spend the next little while talking about when I’m due and my next appointments. Anything that doesn’t involve talking about who the father is. Keir comes back with bags of food, and for once, I manage to eat a meal without feeling like I'm about to throw it straight back up.
I get into bed that night feeling like a bit of the weight I've been laden with has lifted from my shoulders. Unfortunately, it’s not enough to stop me from having another sleepless night.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ASA
We’re just about done cleaning up last night’s mess when there’s a rap of knuckles on the front window. We don’t officially open for appointments until later today, so I open the door ready to tell whoever it is that they’ll have to come back.
I barely get the door open an inch when I’m shoved back from the force of it being pushed inward. I’m not a small guy, but between having a raging hangover and being caught off guard, I have no chance of keeping whoever this is out.
“What the fuck?” I ask when I see that it’s TJ, my brother-in-law. “What’s with the excessive force?”
“I think we need to talk,” he growls at me. My first thought is Breeze, that something is wrong with her.
“Is Bree okay?”
“Wanna tell me why Lucy looked like she was about to throw up when she saw you standing across this very room last night?” he asks, squaring his shoulders and using his half inch height advantage to try to look down at me. That’s the wrong move on his part. He’s pissing me off. Because of that, it takes a minute for my head to catch up with what he’s saying. Last night was crazy, and I barely had time to speak to Bree or any of her friends. I had no clue Lucy was even here.
“What the fuck? I didn’t even see her here; I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You sure you want to stick with that answer?” he grinds out, jaw flexing as he speaks.
“You sure you want to come at me with this shit? Maybe you should mind your own business.”
“Lucy is my business,” he growls, and my blood heats at his words.
“Does your wife know that?” My teeth feel like they might crack with the amount of pressure I’m putting them under as I grind them together.
“Yes, in fact. She does,” he fires back immediately. “Because my wife knows that Lucy is my friend. And that she's a good person who doesn’t deserve to be treated like shit by you. And if she knew Lucy was dealing with your bullshit when she’s struggling, she’d be fucking furious, and you know it.”
“I don’t know what she’s said—”
“That’s just it, jackass, she hasn’t said a damn thing.” He cuts me off. “We’ve all had to watch as she’s pulled away from us. And you know who gives a shit that she’s doing that? Breeze. That's who.”
“What do you mean she’s struggling?” I ask, my mind only just catching on to what he said a few moments ago.
“Oh, that’s the best part.” He gives a mocking laugh. “We all thought she was getting sick. Tired all the time, always rushing out of the room to be sick, thinking we wouldn’t notice that shit. We’re all on her case, wondering why she’s not getting over it. And that’s when the pieces start to slide into place. My brother worked it out. She’s not sick—she’s pregnant. Pregnant and alone.”
There’s not a single thing I can say after his little speech. Nothing. I have left her alone.
I'm embarrassed.
I feel guilty as fuck.
And neither are feelings I like a whole lot.
“Is it yours?” he asks, but it’s clear he’s fully aware of the situation.
“Yeah,” I admit, watching as TJ’s fists clench in anger. He might be bigger than me, but if he wants to start something over this, I’m not going to make it easy on him.
“Why didn’t she tell me she was so sick?”
“Why the hell would she? After seeing the look on her face last night, I get
the feeling you’ve been treating her like shit, right?”
“You don’t know what the fuck happened,” I seethe. He doesn’t get to judge me until he knows both sides of our story.
“And I still don’t give a fuck. All you need to know is if you can’t treat her right, we will—her family. She doesn’t need you. They don’t need you.”
He punctuates each word with a stinging jab against my chest with his finger. And I let him. Because he’s right. I haven’t asked her how she’s been. I haven’t called her, or sent a text to ask if she’s okay, or if she needed anything. I haven’t given a fuck about her or my baby because I’ve had my head up my ass, feeling sorry for myself over some shitty comments.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
TJ takes a step back, disgust-filled eyes leveled at me as he moves toward the door. “Did you ever stop to think why she kept the baby a secret from us all, from her best friends?” he asks as he pulls the door open.
“And just so you know, Breeze knows she’s pregnant. Lucy finally caved and told Poppy last night. But she has no clue you’re involved. I worked that shit out myself when I saw her looking completely destroyed as she watched you picking up random chicks last night. Tell your sister before she works it out too.”
With one last disgusted look, he walks out, the glass door rattling on its hinges as he slams it shut. I’m grabbing my keys and making my way to my car before the door has settled. We’re supposed to open in a few hours, but the guys are going to have to deal with it. I can’t stop thinking about the shit TJ just laid on me.
I’m not a big fan of the amount of shame I’m feeling, and that’s what has my ass in my car and on my way to Lucy’s apartment. Thankfully, the drive is short, and I manage to get a parking space right outside her building. My luck continues when I catch someone leaving just as I’m about to press her buzzer, meaning I don’t have to risk her leaving me outside when she knows it’s me trying to get in.
