“Sorry to disappoint you, but nothing fun in there.”
Matt props his elbows on the bar, fiddling with his platinum cufflink. “This is supposed to be a happy time. Who do I have to kill? Please, let it be Reed. I would love to have your blessing to finally do something.”
“Funny, you won’t have that—ever. Just the rest of our good ol’ family.”
A light touch from Matt’s hand to my shoulder and a deep puff of air comes from him. “Hads, I’m not telling you to move on. If it happened to me, I would probably go postal on everyone. But you’re better than me. Don’t you think it’s time to let the anger go, not for those fucktards, but for you?”
“Reed was telling me the same thing the other night.”
“Write this down. I agree with your man. First time.” Matt lifts up his finger, signaling to the bartender for another drink. “I love you, sis, but anger looks like shit on you. I have to go and give my date her drink.”
“Stephanie?”
“Nah, she didn’t want to wait. This one is just a friend.” He pats my shoulder before turning around, then moves and is quickly lost in the crowd.
I sit at the bar, swirling the ice still left in my glass. Is he right? Is Reed right? Should I just drop it? Should I forgive? But if I forgive them, I can’t forget. Never.
I turn in the stool and Reed’s across the room talking, laughing, and having the time of his life. He’s enjoying what is supposed to be a party leading to the future of our lives together. Celebrating the love we have. It’s what I should be doing, instead I’m alone at the bar, drowning my sorrows in my soda water, about a past that cannot be changed.
But hell, this present can.
My best friend was right. One engagement, one party, one wedding is all I’ll get. All Reed and I will get. And damn it, I’m going to have a ball living tonight up and reap all the benefits of Court’s hard work.
And I do live it up. Three hours fly by, guests taking full advantage of the open bar, and I’m the only one that will wake up without hating life tomorrow. Besides the minor hiccup earlier, Reed and I had the time Courtney planned for us to have.
The dance floor is almost empty as the time winds down, but that isn’t stopping me and Courtney from shaking it to some pop hit. The song fades and Court exits the floor, leaving me all alone when I feel a small, light tap on my shoulder.
My father stands there, his face low, his once lively eyes and proud stature completely dull and missing. “May I have this dance, baby girl?” His words lack the conviction behind them as he lifts his hand to mine.
A pit drops in my stomach as I place my hand in his, both our palms sweaty. The moment the first few keys of the song “Wonderful Tonight” starts, my eyes fill with tears, my chin trembles as we dance, memories occupying my mind.
My father did the very same thing when I was a tiny girl, except this time, I dance on my own feet, not his, and it’s a real dance floor with an audience, not the tile in our kitchen on nights when it was only us in the house. Those moments when I was young were innocent, and I only saw the beauty in things. It’s what showed me, taught me, and proved to me how I should be treated.
I was his baby girl.
He takes the tip of my finger, spinning me in a circle. The bottom of my dress swishes with each swirl, and through the window of my own tears, my father’s eyes glisten, and it’s like the flash of images are shining. Him teaching me to tie my shoes, letting go of the back of my bike without training wheels on it, yet never far enough away to let me fall, the first time I came home with my face covered in tears over a boy, and my Daddy’s safe hug that night. The comfort I received gave me peace, and his words of breaking the boy’s knee caps made me laugh through my tears.
That’s what a daddy does—he protects with his love.
My father pulls me into his arms, our chests colliding. He pales when his mouth opens, and the words falter to come out, but when they do, it’s the punch to my gut I need. “Baby girl, I’m so sorry.” He blinks, and with that one lone tear that falls from his eyes comes my forgiveness. He would never hurt me on purpose. It’s done.
Everything was because this is a father’s love, to protect me.
I lay my head on his shoulder as he takes me in his arms. “Daddy.” One lone word is all it takes for the tears to gush like a waterfall when I look up at him and see, truly understand, and accept.
“How could this beautiful woman staring up at me, be the little freckle-faced, frizzy-haired girl that would only dance on my toes? Hadley… I’m so damn proud of you.” His voice thickens with all his emotion.
I breathe him in, and the scent of his Old Spice relieves me. “You will always be my first love, Daddy. It was you who showed me how to love.”
“Reed better get that memo, too.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to tell him.” My voice is lost as he spins me one more time, and with a dip, the song ends.
When I come back up, a crowd surrounds us. Some have tears in their eyes, knowing what we are going through. Some have simple smiles at the father-and-daughter dance. But out of all the faces, the one that speaks most to me, calls to me, is Mark’s. He stands there, Jadon—my baby brother—held snug in his arms, dead asleep and with a slight grin our way.
Mark may be my biological father, and I knocked him off the pedestal when I found that out, I wanted more from him, but that’s all. He gave me life, but hasn’t helped me live. He’s never been my daddy. Only one person will forever hold that title. And from now on, Mark will only be my brother.
Behind him, Sarah moves, her head peeking over Jadon’s head, with a ray of happiness. I mouth a “thank you” to her, and with a small nod and nothing else stuck in our way not to move past, we will begin building a new relationship, a different friendship.
I can have my family with me, I can have Reed standing next to me.
With a lot of work, I can have it all.
I plop down on the couch, my legs unable to hold me up any more, my feet too drained to even hold my shoes on as they fall to the floor. Reed’s jacket was abandoned ages ago, and his once perfectly ironed shirt, now has wrinkles covering it. But as tired as I was and the hot mess we both seem to be, Reed still looks hot in something other than t-shirts and jeans.
He sits down right next to me and a heavy exhale leaves his mouth. Reed draws my feet onto his lap. Without telling him where I ache, his strong hands find and knead all the sore spots just right.
“I don’t think I can ever move again, and Lord, please don’t ever stop,” I moan.
“The problem will be when you have to take a piss.”
“I hate it when you are right.”
His fingers continue to soothe all around my feet. “I can’t believe James didn’t come tonight. You okay he didn’t show?”
“Yep. He’s doing his own thing right now, and last time I talked to him, the bitch and him are back together so…” Reed pinches the outside of my thigh at the mere mention of it. “Ouch.”
“You fucking made out with him. James that douche is lucky I didn’t kill him.”
“But…”
“But you stopped before tits got seen, yada fucking yada.”
I pull my legs off of him then sit up. “You love me?”
“Yes.”
I hitch my thighs over his body. “You trust me?”
“Yeah.” Reed’s grabs my hips into him.
I pull the pins from my hair, the curls cascading over my shoulders. “Then believe me when I say I felt nothing, I mean not a speck of desire, for him. Nada. Zip. Zilch.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Reed’s hands move to my back and the zipper of my dress is ripped down. The briskness of the air caresses my body as his fingers pull the straps down and my breasts fall out.
“You don’t really care about James, do you?”
His gaze wanders from my face down to my chest, and back to laid-back in an instant, as his cock hardens under me. “Fuck no, you have my rings on that finger
, and I know where you stand. But every time I mention it, you climb on my lap, kiss the booboos away, so what’s a man going to do?” Reed takes a handful of my breasts, his tongue swiping the outside of his lips.
“You little shit.”
“But think of all the orgasms you’ve had by guilt.” He gives me a simple shrug before he nudges his hips up to my core and offers a wink.
I don’t respond. It’s not necessary to even counter him. Reed’s right. Good sex helps pass the day. And great sex gives you a smile. But earth-shattering, toe-curling sex…now that solves problems, makes guilt disappear, madness fade, and washes away tears.
Whatever the mood of the day, it’s better with an O.
How could this happen?
No flipping way.
Not happening.
I’m not ready, he’s not ready.
We aren’t ready.
Shit.
Fuck balls.
“How late is late, Hads?” Courtney asks, handing me the pregnancy test I made her buy.
My fingers are in my mouth and I can’t even try to stop my urge to chew on them. This isn’t supposed to happen like this.
Planned.
Thought out.
Executed. That’s the way, not this, never this. “I don’t really know, I got the IUD taken out and bled for a couple of days, started the pill that Sunday, and that pack is done and still no period.”
“Jesus, Hads, you’re a nurse.” James is sitting on the couch, his feet on the coffee table, and acting oh so very smug.
“Thanks for that, and FYI, I’m not anymore. We waited the seven days before it became effective to even have sex, so don’t medical-talk me, butthead.” The bastard makes an appearance when shit gets good, not before. He came back three days after the engagement party, tail between his legs with another broken heart from Liz. One day he will find someone that doesn’t get off on inflicting pain on him.
“How much water have you had?”
I chug the remainder of the plastic bottle and throw it in the trashcan on my way to the bathroom. “Three, I’m good. Just wait here.”
I come out of the bathroom, test still sitting on the sink waiting to be read. But my nerves are fried and I can’t bear to even glance at it. My future, ours is waiting, yet my guts are too frazzled to find out.
“Court, I can’t…please, tell me, because I can’t,” I yell, in a tone as if they’re about to serve me my last meal. I tread back into the living room and come to a grinding halt when I catch sight of Reed’s boots next to the front door.
“Are you going to tell me why in hell there is a fucking open pregnancy test box sitting here on my fucking table?” Reed bellows so loud, my insides shake with the intensity.
Reed’s here, his presence maddening, hands closed in balls while he fumes. His neck strains as he focuses on me and the test. Nothing else seems to matter to him, nothing. My mind is cut in half wondering how this will play out. My stomach knots up as Court and James rise from the couch, avoiding Reed like the plague. Both leave out our front door. I don’t know if they look back. I don’t even spare a chance to check because Reed’s fury holds me captive.
“Where is it?” His harsh tone makes me flinch. “Hads, I swear to God, don’t look at me like that. Where the fuck is it?”
My chin shakes and I just stand here not moving. My words tremble. “The b-bathroom.”
The hair moves with the breeze he creates as he stomps by.
Reed storms back in an instant. He never makes contact with me, but he lobs the stick, shattering it against the wall. “Fuck!”
I tread over the remainder of the stick, not bothering to bend down because the window of the test is the only part not broken and “not pregnant” stares up, mocking me.
Reed sits on the sofa, his hands shaking uncontrollably as he holds his head up with them. “This shit shouldn’t have happened,” he spits out.
His venomous words punch the wind right out of me. The pain in my throat is like jagged shards stopping me from speaking. From questioning him. From understanding his meaning. Reed can’t mean he is upset we could have been pregnant.
He’s the one who wanted this.
The one who pushed me to get checked, to want to start a family.
Together.
No, now this is a mess, a huge pile of it.
My legs have a mind of their own and move me out of the room and with one glance over my shoulder, I desert Reed and the extreme emotions that surround him. He’s a statue on the sofa. The only things even slightly moving are his shoulders with each inhale and exhale. I take quiet steps up to our room and change as fast as I can before falling into the comfort of our bed.
I curl myself into a ball, pulling my knees to my chest, and pray that what I think just happened, in fact, didn’t truly occur. I pray that this was just another nightmare, that when I wake, everything will be back to the perfect place we’ve been for over a year. A constant peace between us.
But it’s not.
Lucy pounces on the bed then snuggles near my chest. Her soft purring is the only comfort I have, the thing helping me focus on something else other than my doubts. These are the times when my demons rear their nasty heads, when the fear of never being well again comes to the forefront of my brain. Reed and I are strong now, steadier than ever before. Our once normal fights laced with passion and underlined with trust issues haven’t happened in months because we talk, we communicate what’s bothering us before things spiral out of control. We’ve learned, we trained, and worked hard to find this way, the best way for us. The safest way to remain whole as a united front. But this thing tonight, the way Reed exploded, is the old, toxic love we once shared. And it scares me. Reed’s furious, and I ran away and hid from him like I did before.
My back is to the door but the hair on my arms stands up. Chills go down my spine as it creaks open. He avoids my safe spot now. I hold my breath, waiting for something as the bed dips and I expect Reed to touch me, to ease some of my suffering he’s caused but he doesn’t move. Doesn’t talk. He brought his stone self up here.
“Reed, if you don’t want to have kids now, explain why you wanted my IUD out? I can’t fathom why.” My words sound as hollow as the pit in my stomach grows.
“Fuck, Hads, you think that’s why I’m pissed?”
I flip over and face him. He's so close, I can feel his warm breath fanning my lips and the heat from his body radiating through me. I can smell his faint yet heady cologne, but it still doesn’t help the pain. “What else would I think after the way you acted?”
Reed tucks my hair behind my ear, his touch tender, his gaze gleaming with fascination at what I just said. “Babe, you couldn’t be more wrong. I’m fucking pissed because I want to be here when you take the test. I want to be here when you freak out, when it finally happens, because I want to be the one to calm you. Not Courtney, not James. Me, Hadley. I want to be the one to look at the test for you, with you. Not Courtney. I didn’t get it last time because of the shit I pulled, but this time, I want it. All of it, the nerves, the waiting. Every single fucking thing. Now that, Hads, is why I’m pissed.”
His words click into place in my brain. “God, I didn’t even think about it that way, but I came home and you were still at training, and with the fight so close, I wanted to know right now. Lord, I thought you didn’t want a baby. That isn’t a good feeling at all. And I’m really sorry you came home to that. I know now if we try to have one then to not ever surprise you with that cute bun in the oven thing. But you could have handled it so much better.”
Reed tilts his head, watching while his coarse, callused thumb traces my lips. “No, don’t do that. I don’t need cutesy when I get you knocked up. But shit, I’m sorry, babe. I should have counted to fucking ten before I blew. I knew better, I know better. But when I saw that box on the table with James, I mean James that just now popped back into your life, sitting on my couch with that big-ass smile on his face like he belongs in that spot and
Courtney waiting, counting was the last thing on my fucking mind before I snapped. We only get a couple of chances to do the freak show of wondering, so fucking pinky that shit. Next time, please fucking tell me the minute the idea you could be pops in that mind of yours.”
I place a kiss on his finger. The hold on my heart relaxes. “You should probably apologize to James and Court. I could only imagine what they are thinking now. Wowzers.”
Reed laughs, the anger that was tight around him in the living room, dried up. “I’ll do it tomorrow, but now tell me why you thought I knocked you up before we have our make-up fucks and we try to practice to make another one again.”
My hold on Reed’s neck loosens with each shove backward he gives me. I flip my body over, and place my leg over Reed’s hip and I refuse to stop. I’m not giving up. For once, victory is so close I can taste it.
“Come on, Rike. You need the white flag to tap out, motherfucker.” Every muscle quivers against him as I try to take him down.
“Remember, it’s not a win till your hand is raised in the center, and that shit ain’t happening. Not today and not tomorrow. ” One final jolt of energy from him and Reed gets out of my hold. His whole body slides on the floor. He gets behind me and hooks an arm around my neck.
The win no longer within my reach, I give up, and with a tap on the mat, he drops his hold automatically. There’s now a smug look on that damn face of his.
I climb to my knees, my breath shallow. “One day I’m going to beat you.”
“And that one day will be the day I quit.” He tosses a towel at me.
“Pshhhh.” I grab the towel and blot at the sweat dripping down my face. “You know most men will let their girl win at least once.”
He lifts his hands in a shrug and winks. “I’m not most, babe.”
“Well, don’t I know it. But I did have to take it easy on you. You know, with the fight tomorrow and all. Didn’t want to damage the goods.” His fight for the belt is near, a chance to get back what he handed over willingly to be with me. So close to being back where it really belongs. Reed put his foot down with a no fights in Vegas clause in his contract. I laughed since he was on the bottom level of the league. Yet nothing mattered to him but that. He knew my distaste for that place, and he wouldn’t even think about fighting there again. He even sold his condo and gym to Gus, that’s how serious he was.
Fighting to Stay (Fighting Madly Book 2) Page 18
