“You’re so eloquent. Shouting means superior. It’s okay, you’ll be a big boy one day.” She pats my arm with a sympathetic smile. If that girl had a clue . . .
Thankful our friends are wrapped in one another it makes it easy for me to stare at my girl in her blue bikini and make sure nobody hits on her. She’s a pro at avoiding the topic of her dating life . . . but curiosity is starting. I can hide things by hitting parties with Mason— but that’s slowing. She has nobody with Saylor and Emberlee coupled up, so she has to be careful.
Walking up behind her, I graze my hand over her ass. “Christmas. All bets off.” She grins. I notice some fucker eyeballin’ her. My growl sends shivers through her body. “Who is that?” My eyes narrow on the dude checking her out.
“David. Played ball with y’all in high school. He transferred to WSU. I think he’ll be your teammate.” I don’t like she knows so much information about him.
“I don’t like him.” Yes, I’m aware I sound like a three-year-old.
“You don’t have to.” She taunts. If we were anywhere but here, I’d show her what her sassy mouth does to me. Instead, I stare as she jumps in the water and see that shark close in. I don’t think I’ll make it a few more days.
Chapter Eleven
Something is off with Emberlee. She’s off to the side, quiet, as we wait for Saylor to get home. Deacon wants to surprise her with the adoption papers. Lee Lee’s parents are here and after the bombshell regarding the state of her relationship with her dad . . . I’m worried there will be a scene. My protective instinct comes over me as I head to her side to be halted by the slamming of the door.
Deacon hollers upstairs in answer to Saylor’s shouts. Her voice is loud and short. She’s pissed or sidetracked with all the errands she did today. Her footsteps slam with each step she takes and her ranting to herself is hilarious. “I didn’t make it to the grocery store. See, I had a doctor’s appointment that took a bit longer than expected because YOU FUCKING KNOCKED ME UP ON OUR HONEYMOON!” His face explodes with a grin, the glee evident in his body. But she continues . . . clueless to her audience. She’s gonna be mortified. I chance a look at Emberlee and her face strained, her color pale. God, I pray she isn’t going to show her ass. “I told you to pull out. I told you to wear a condom. Your damn rhythm method and had to be inside me bare bullshit.” Her voice cracks and Deacon steps to meet her at the end of the steps. “I’m sorry.” Her brain finally caught up to her mind and she’s regretful for shouting. “I’m not mad, it was just a shock. Fucking antibiotics and birth control.” Deacon’s parents begin clapping and she jumps in surprise so we all step into view. Deacon is gonna be in the doghouse for this stunt.
“The papers came today, MOMMY.” Times two, Deacon should add.
“Times two.” Leave it to Mason to utter the reminder aloud. And recap she had a word vomit moment for all to hear.
“Where’s Julie?” After the vocabulary she unleashed, she needs to be worried.
Everyone is congratulating her and I find Caden and wink. He shakes his head with a sexy ass smirk and I giggle. Leave it to them . . . twenty, starting their second year in college . . . a one year old and one incubating. They take overshooting their goals to a new level.
Emberlee has tears rolling down her cheeks so I embrace her. I don’t have time to get to the bottom of her distress when Saylor lets her mouth open and words explode. “Go ahead. If you have something to say, go for it.” She’s challenging Emberlee . . . and is defensive because of the past. Caden and Mason step close as Deacon takes Saylor’s hand.
“When are you due?” Emberlee treads easy, easing the tension.
“March 22nd. One month before Julie turns two.” Saylor’s voice is high pitched . . . reality just set in.
“I’m due March 20th. You have a honeymoon baby. I have a wedding baby. Your fucking wedding.” Stop the fucking presses. No. This can’t be happening. By everyone’s face, it’s evident I didn’t go deaf and mishear the confession.
“Whoa!” Shut up Mason . . . please don’t. “It isn’t mine!” And he did. Caden chuckles and zips it when he catches my look.
I need to find a distraction to counteract his oversharing. This isn’t a bad thing— unexpected maybe, but still, we’ll manage. “Looks like I only have to plan one baby shower.” Situation diffused.
“If this one has a twig and berries I’ll give you your card back, and I’ll teach him how to pitch.” And he opens his mouth again . . . I can’t win with him.
“I’m going to revoke your goddamn card when I rip off your dick!” Ah, I see hormones have Saylor raging . . . Mason better run.
Deacon has Saylor in his arms and I sigh in relief. “Stand in line,” Emberlee goads. “Seems Brody may have a few words to say to him.” Mason wobbles, color draining from his face. It’s Emberlee’s turn to shut the fuck up. I know what she’s gonna expose . . . but of course, like a drug addict with a heroin needle, she continues. “Somehow the same night this happened, a pretty blonde, violet-eyed girl went missing and appeared after someone gave her a ride back to the apartment she supposedly spent the night at.” Does anyone realize our parents are in the room and they’re getting a play by play of the porn flicks their kids are starring in? I mean we have two girls pregnant, so abstinence isn’t prevalent . . . they’ve confirmed Mason has indeed slept with Emberlee, and Brecklynn. I bet our parents are beaming in pride.
“Brody’s baby sister?” Saylor is so astute. Welcome to college . . . or life with us.
“Fuck.” Mason scurries to the stairs. Where the fuck is he going? He lives next door . . . it isn’t like he can go into witness protection. It isn’t a crime to bang your best friend’s boyfriend’s baby sister . . . shit, where’s Jerry Springer? I know that fucker is here.
“Hey Matilda,” I don’t know who needs a muzzle more— Saylor or Mason. Since Mace is fleeing and Shortstop is still talking . . . my bet is her. Although she dropped some pretty impressive language fifteen minutes ago, she chooses to censor the word pussy. “You can run, but you can’t hide.”
Mason flips us off and runs. This ride is worth more than four tickets at the carnival . . . we could charge premium prices for this amusement park. There’s no closing time, we’re open day and night. Who wouldn’t want front row seats to mayhem? I’m fucking tired . . . Caden is staring at me and it’s like we can taste our defeat. Two babies . . . due within two days of one another. Mason dipping in disaster, but nobody can deny there’s something different with him when he’s with her. The two people with the secret are the most stable. This isn’t normal. This isn’t the way any of this works . . . yet, we make it.
Deacon and Saylor escape for a few moments alone, so I try and get the scoop from Emberlee. “Holy shit, Momma.” She smiles and it fades as she realizes her parents are here— and she announced a big milestone to everyone.
“I’ll be back, Aves. I kind of let the announcement slip.” She admits with trepidation.
“Oh, fuckadilly. That’s bad.” I laugh as her eyes roll. I haven’t seen Brody and don’t want her to face the music alone but she waves me off.
Studying their interaction, I don’t foresee blood shed so I wave to my parents and search for Caden. “Holy hell. We need to make sure we aren’t drinking the water.” He chuckles and searches the room for prying eyes. Coast is clear so he gives me a chaste kiss and backs up a step.
“No shit. I’ll be double wrapping it along with your birth control.” His eyes are wide and I hate the worry lines he’s sporting.
“I read somewhere double wrapping is bad for you.” I need to lighten this up. Christmas is still a ways off and this doesn’t need to change our plans. “Everything will be fine.”
“Yeah. Shit . . . we start college and our lives change in one fell swoop.” Change and Caden don’t blend.
“Actually, Deacon started it our senior year.” I remind him. “But, we have time. It’ll be easier for us because I’m sure Lee Lee will move in with Brod
y . . . or whatever. She’ll be preoccupied. Mason is busy. Deacon and Saylor have their hands full. It leaves us with a lot of time.” I waggle my eyebrows and he laughs.
“Thank fuck. You are the one thing that keeps me sane, Picasso.” His words scream devotion, his eyes wrap me in love . . . we’ll be fine.
The front door slams and I jump . . . and search for a weapon. “I hate him!” Lee Lee announces her arrival.
“For fucks sake. I thought you were an intruder. Who do you hate?”
“Brody.” She sniffles.
“Why?” I try to hide my exasperation but her and Saylor are stretching my patience. There’s always tears . . . I’m turning into a dude because I can’t do tears. No more.
“He won’t let me have coffee.” She’s having a complete breakdown over java. I’m getting sainthood. I’m calling the Pope tomorrow, breaking shit down for him, and getting crowned some patron saint or whatever the hell they do. Shit, if I cuss like a sailor can I still be Saint Avery? I don’t give a fuck. He’ll take mercy when he witnesses what I deal with on a daily basis. Maybe I’ll send him a short video. It won’t take but a thirty second clip of this before he takes pity . . . I bet he names several saints after me . . . a week’s worth.
Granted, taking coffee from Emberlee is like taking paint from me . . . it’s a signed death sentence. “Why?” I’m so tired of that question.
“Something about caffeine and the baby.” Makes sense, though I won’t be stupid enough to speak that truth. But, he should’ve thought about that prior to shooting his load . . . Emberlee has a serious addiction. I don’t think twelve steps are enough for her to overcome this addiction. My phone dings and I grab it.
Ruthian: 10 minutes. Need anything?
I sigh and tell myself to stop being selfish.
Me: Abort mission. Lee Lee is here. Having breakdown.
Ruthian: Need help? She okay?
Me: Brody took her coffee privileges from her.
Ruthian: And he’s still breathing?
Me: Haven’t gotten that far into the conversation. I’ll let you know if we need to hide a body.
Ruthian: 10-4. Love you.
Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. I stand and head to the kitchen. I’m doing the thing that can fix the current predicament. Brewing coffee.
My phone goes off again and if it’s Caden tempting me, I’m liable to act like a hormonal bitch sans bun in the oven.
Brody: Help me. Fix her a cup of coffee—real coffee, not the shit I forced on her this morning. PLEASE!
Avery: Handled. You’re a dumbass. Lee Lee and coffee are like ham and burger. You can’t have one without the other.
Lord, I’m surrounded by dumbasses. I wait for the coffee to brew amid Emberlee’s huffs and puffs, describing the ways she’s gonna kill him. “Here.” I shove the coffee in front of her. “Drink up, but you need to ask your doctor.” I wasn’t dumb. I waited for her to inhale half the cup before throwing in my two cents.
“Yeah. You’re right.” Ah, Brody needs to come over here for lessons. There’s an art to handling her . . . he needs to learn it. Pronto. I’m not in the mood for this. Classes, painting, Caden’s work outs, drama central . . . it’s all cutting into my time with my man and I’ve found I get cranky when I don’t have Caden-cuddles.
After two cups of caffeine-laden nectar, she calms down. Her brain becomes clear causing her to wail, rehashing how awful she was to him. It’s two fucking o’clock in the morning and while I’ll always be that supportive friend, I can gripe about it. “I’m going home.”
“You do that. Call me when you get there.” My class in the morning is gonna kill me. And sleeping alone because her meltdown derailed my plans . . . yet, she’ll be wrapped in her man. Fucking karma, bitches. All of you are gonna get it. I hope she has twins. No quadruplets. Or eight of them . . . that will leave one short of a baseball team and Saylor will have to offer hers as a sacrifice. Cranky Avery leads to sarcasm . . . and hateful thoughts. I dispel them because at one point or another I’ll end up babysitting and no thank you to karma.
I lay here waiting for her call and when it comes I’m exhausted. From it all. Lying. Sneaking. Missing him. I curse myself for being the one to suggest it and I hate he went along with it. I wish, in hindsight, he’d fought me. Demanded we come clean. Bitterness and cranky aren’t a good mix for me— it calls for some time at home after class. And staying through the weekend. Me, my paints, my parents . . . and peace.
I’ve ignored calls and texts from everyone. I did leave a note on the kitchen counter because we all know nobody in this group has boundaries and they’ll barge into my house at one time or another, uninvited, and voilà . . . they’ll know where I am. My mom and dad are at lunch, which I opted out of attending— wanting some time to myself.
“What the fuck, Avery?” His voice causes me to jump and fall off the bed. Or it may have been the vibrations his tone caused, rumbling my room with his echoing bellow.
“Guess you saw my note?” If his murderous glare is any indication . . . this wasn’t the correct response to his eloquent question.
“You guess correct. I repeat, What. The. Fuck?” Someone’s pissy today.
“You forgot Avery. What the fuck, Avery is what you asked, so if you’re repeating yourself, you would have included my name. So in reality, you’re asking me the same question . . . but in a different manner. Therefore, you aren’t repeating yourself.” I’ve established I’m cranky. Going for the whole shebang and spoiling for a fight.
“You’re pissing me off.” I know. “Instead of a note, how about a conversation? The thing where two people discuss, talk, share.”
“Not necessarily. You can have one-sided conversations. I do it quite a bit. I tend to like my answers better.” The arching of his eyebrows tells me I’m pushing his buttons. “But in answer to your question— I didn’t feel like it. Wanted some alone time so I took it.”
“If I was Mason, I’d ask if you were on your period. But I’ve been through eighteen months of those and you don’t behave like a child. So. care to answer me?”
“I did.” He takes a step closer. “What does it matter? I’m sure you had plans with Mason, or someone else to hang with . . . keeping up appearances and all.”
“This is what you wanted and now I’m being punished for following your lead. Unfuckingbelievable.” His words spill from his mouth— chopped and laced with anger.
“Yeah. It was my dumb idea. Rub it in my face.” If he doesn’t understand my frustration, I can’t explain it to him. He grabs my waist and pulls me to him . . . maybe I can have a conversation with him. “I’m tired. Of it all. I know we’re doing the right thing but I’m irritable. We keep sacrificing ourselves for our friends and I question if that’s the wrong decision.”
His fingers caress my cheeks. “Do you love me?” I nod. “Do you know I love you?” Bob my head again. “Are we okay?” I shrug. His lips brush mine. “Are we okay?”
“Yes,” I whisper. And we are. Just a diversion. A moment of having a pity party. “I was wrong. I know that, but I miss you. That’s all.”
“That’s everything, Picasso.” His fingers tangle in my hair. “It’s everything. If you don’t miss me you don’t need me. That’s an option I’m not willing to face.”
“Emberlee pissed me off and I feel guilty for being irritated with her. She needed me but I had to cancel our plans. Then she sucked it up, realized she was being a hormonal asshole and went home. To Brody. And I went to bed alone.” I pout.
“I’m next door. You could have called me, babe.” I hate when he makes sense.
“I guess I could have.” I burrow closer to him.
“Holidays are coming up and we’ll start getting crazy with practices. We need to carve some time to be together. A weekend away . . . something.” I sigh, it sounds like heaven.
“I don’t think we can pull off another weekend.” I burst my bubble— and his.
“We’ll figure out something. Everyone is so busy
it may surprise you how easy it is.”
Famous last words.
Thanksgiving was a blur. It’s always a crowded house but with two pregnant women . . . both having girls, in attendance it can get hairy. Everyone was feeling the tension.
Brecklynn and I decided to have a quiet evening and I want her to spill the dirt with the her and Mason situation. “I can’t believe they’re both having girls. Mason is gonna spoil them.” Her chin quivers but she hides it.
“Yeah. He’s great with Julie. I’m happy for them. Emberlee exhausted me with her shopping abilities today.” Damn, she’s a master manipulator.
The door slams, rattling the pictures hanging in the living room. “Shit.” I’m having déjà vu from a few weeks ago. Sure enough, the culprit is the same. “Whoa, Lee Lee. What’s gotten into to you— besides Brody’s sperm?” Brecklynn snorts and Emberlee tries to bury us with her look.
I hold my hands up in surrender and she falls into my lap, snotty, sobbing, and isn’t making a lick of sense. “I’m getting sleavage!” What the hell . . . she just wiped her nose on my clothes.
“Did you wipe your snot on me?” I shouldn’t laugh but she’s bat shit crazy.
“Yeah. It’s a really cute top, and I hate you for wearing it around me.” Oh, another pity party. My sympathy card is all punched empty.
Shoving her off me, I scoff. “Holy shit, you’re as bad as Saylor. I’m thinking I should study abroad.”
“I thought about that once. Didn’t work so well for me, so best of luck.” Her focus turns to Brecklynn and she growls. “Ugh, why do you have to look like your brother?” I pray she is gonna make this baby an only child. Emberlee and pregnancy aren’t mixing.
Fighting Fate (Endgame #4) Page 11
