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Alex coughs. As embarrassing as it is, it’s true.
“That’s a technicality,” my mom says. “Don’t you remember when Alex smashed into the plexiglas in front of us at the game? You were all involved in reading something, not paying a bit of attention to what was happening on the ice, and then there he was! It was love at first sight.”
“I’m pretty sure it was lust at first sight. And I spilled my beer all over myself.” I’m still nursing my original mimosa, so I can’t blame my mouth on anything but sudden nerves.
“I think it’s perfectly romantic,” my mom says.
Alex cuts in again, as if he’s trying to save me from this conversation. “Now probably isn’t the best time for this, Mom.”
I can’t keep putting him in this position where he feels the need to protect me from what should be an exciting time. I recognize that we belong together. Looking back, I can see clearly what I didn’t before.
I remember every detail of the night Alex and I met. From Alex throwing a snit in the penalty box, to him smashing into the plexiglas and scaring the living crap out of me. I remember how pretty his eyes were and how I got caught there. I remember the immediate drooling in my panties and how it amplified when he got into the fight. I remember him sitting next to me in the bar, his rock-hard arm brushing mine. I tried so hard not to look directly at him, because his chiseled jaw and his sexy, beat-up face were hotter than I wanted them to be. His face is in a similar state right now.
I also remember my mortification over flashing the entire team my ridiculous bra, and eye-toking my cigarette when I ran away from him and indulged in my fake habit. And later I remember my shock and awe over the unveiling of the Super MC, my accidental cock-love chanting, and how sweet Alex was—and how even though I ran away from him again, he kept pursuing me. Because he knew then what it took me months to figure out: We belong together.
And now here we are, engaged since August while he’s been patiently waiting for me to be ready to set a date. I’m such an idiot—and incredibly fortunate that Alex is secure enough not to take it personally. I hope, anyway. I think I may owe him an unconscionable number of sexual favors.
Before I can say what I need to, which is that I’m ready to put a ring on it, Sunny pushes away from the table, her chair making an awful grating sound on the hardwood, pulling the attention away from me and Alex.
Sunny’s disturbingly pale as she stands up and says two words I totally don’t expect to hear:
“I’m pregnant!”14Well, That
was UnexpectedVIOLETThe entire table goes silent. Buck stands beside Sunny, his face ashen. Which tells me Sunny isn’t blurting lies as an attempt at a kind distraction. Also, she’s an abysmal liar.
“Uh, sweets…” Buck puts his hand on her lower back.
“Oh.” She clamps a palm over her mouth, eyes tearful as she surveys the table. I’m sure my shock is mirrored around the room. Alex’s thigh tenses under my hand. I’d squeeze more, but he has a lot of bruises.
Sunny turns to Buck. “Sorry. It slipped out.”
Alex pushes back his chair like he’s about to get up and throw down with Buck. “You’re shitting me, right?”
“Alex, language,” Daisy says.
He looks incredulous. “Seriously? Sunny tells us she’s pregnant, and you’re worried about my language?”
“We didn’t mean for it to happen.” Sunny does the hair-twirl thing.
I’m not sure what to say. I mean, I guess it should be congratulations, but if I got pregnant, I don’t think I’d be all that excited. Alex and I are just getting started. I’m not very mature. I’m highly aware of my inability to manage more than Pop-Tarts most days, let alone being responsible for all of someone else’s needs.
Daisy’s being here has made it apparent that I have a lot of work to do before I can be considered an accomplished housewife. I should be able to do better than the four dinner items I’ve mastered thus far.
Sunny and Buck have only been together officially for a few months, though they’ve been dating for the better part of a year. They aren’t even living together. This is going to change their entire lives. Or it already has. A lot like Alex’s accident has inadvertently changed ours.
I press my boobs against Alex’s arm, hoping they’ll calm him down. He’s clenching his fist, not seeming happy at all that Sunny is preggers.
“I should—” Alex takes a deep breath.
“What’re you gonna do, Waters? Kick my ass? Pretty sure you’re not gonna win the fight this time around.”
Of course this is like throwing lighter fluid on a burning firecracker. Alex pushes up out of his chair. Since I’m holding onto his good arm, I come up with him. I’m ashamed to say my beaver gets a little drooly over it.
