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“Nice, you better be treating her well. How about you son?” Playing with the condensation on my beer bottle I bring it up to my lips for a quick swig, as he turns to face me. Both him and Trey wait for my response. Here goes nothing.

“Lana and I are pregnant.” I’m pretty sure the music stopped and the commotion from people ceased, but it didn’t. Staring at me with wide eyes and open mouths, they both don’t say anything right away. I don’t know why Trey looks shocked, he was the fucker who tipped me off and came up with the idea first.

After a few seconds of long silence my dad breaks into cheer, smiling from ear to ear. “I mean what in the actual fuck. Both my kids are having kids. Fuck me, congratulations buddy!” He wraps me up in a hug filled with muscles and back slaps, I proudly smile, my chest welling.

“I knew it dude! Damn! Lucky you, welcome to the soon to be daddies club!” Finally my dad lets me go and I hug Trey. I feel dominant and possessive knowing my woman is pregnant with my baby, my chest is swelling and my lion’s mane is growing. I feel like a true King.

“She coming around to the whole couples thing?” Dad questions once we settle.

“Lana said she’s willing to try, you know take the steps to get there and whatnot. I think she’ll come around, she has to. We’re having a baby, after all.”

“Be patient with her son, let her come around. Abuse is no joke, that shit can stick with people forever.” I love my dad for being supportive, most parents wouldn’t be as calm when their children get pregnant out of wedlock, but my dad is different and I’m a fucking adult. Even if I wasn’t an adult I wouldn’t give a shit, I do what I want and I always have.

“I’m doing that, that piece of shit really did a number on her.”

“I bet. I saw her the day he put her in the hospital. I can’t believe she recovered.”

I cringe, my anger climbing to a boil. I push it down, reminding myself the past is in the past. I can’t go backward if I want us to move forward.

“Agreed,” Trey chimes in. The bartender walks up and I don’t miss the fact that she’s a woman. A woman who likes to stare. Anytime Trey and I go out women look at us, often hitting on us. It gives me a big head because it strokes my ego. I like knowing that I’m attractive, I like knowing that I’m good enough to stand next to my fucking Queen. I still think Lana is fucking out of my league with her sweet fucking face and beautiful smile. Her heart is big and yet she shuts it off, rejecting all the love the world wants to give her. But it doesn’t stop me, I work every day to be worthy of her.

“Hey handsome, want another beer?” The bartender sticks her fake tits out, purring at me and I just smirk. Fake tits used to be my preference, something I quite preferred. However, now I just want to touch Lana’s and no one else’s. Lana has a small natural chest and fuck me if I can’t wait to actually get my bare hands on them.

“No, I have to drive. Water’s fine, thanks.” I’m curt with her, not interested in her attention in the slightest.

“That’s no fun, how about I buy you a shot and we can throw one back together?” Biting her lip, she tries extra hard to get me hooked. Her blonde hair and way

too orange tan not helping her case. I’m beyond fucking whipped. I loved pussy, all kinds—I didn’t discriminate. I loved hooking up with random women, never settling. The last serious relationship I had was Hilary when I was in high school. Even then she was a stage five clinger and I enjoyed many nights with other women. My favorite nights were when I was with one woman in particular—Lana. No sex, no expectations, no complications, just her and I and some of the best times in my life. Even after her and I slept together, when I was twenty-one, I stopped fucking randoms. The last woman I had after Lana, was Lana and I am the only one that knows this. Trey and I took a lot of girls home but I never let them get all of me, sending them on their way most of the time when the buzz wore off.

I cut the poor girl some slack. “No, I’m good. I’m taken sweetheart, but thanks,” I say, thinking this will back her off a little, but it does the opposite.

“I desire challenges.” I’ve gotta say this girl has no shame and it’s a complete turn off. No fucking thanks.

“He’s not interested pop tart. Now get him a water and I’ll take a tea with lemon. Thanks!” Looking beside me I see Shayla, her hand is on my shoulder and she’s rubbing her belly while slamming the waitress with a hard glare. I hear my dad and Trey chuckle next to me and I look the opposite way of them and just shake my head.

“There you are, you little shithead,” I say swiveling in my chair and pulling her in for a hug, leaning down to kiss her growing belly. I can’t wait to not only be a dad, but also an uncle. Shayla is not just my sister, she’s my best friend—we’ve been through so much together. Now being older and watching her become a wife and mother is bittersweet.

“I had to pee. I swear these little ones are sitting on my bladder.” Moving behind me, my dad stands and wraps his arms around her waist, lifting her into a big bear hug. She giggles and I watch the now angry waitress return with our drinks. Slamming them down, she gets attention from all of us.

“Here.” Lifting my brows over her obvious tantrum, I just brush it off and she stomps away with a scowl set deep on her face.

“Fuck, that was awkward.”

Shayla nods, giving me a wink before taking a sip of her tea. I smile over the brim of my water. I need to tell her about Lana or maybe I shouldn’t, maybe Lana would want to do that. Shayla is my sister but those two are thick as thieves. I decide to bite my tongue and bring it up with Lana later.

“True.”

“Anyway, I wanted to talk to you kids about something,” my dad chimes in, giving me a quick once over, but keeping most of his attention on Shayla. Oh no, it’s that famous ‘Tom is about to tell us some real shit’ look. When we were younger, Shayla didn’t take hard conversation with dad too well, she was overly sensitive after the divorce.

“What’s up daddy, is everything okay?” Shay questions, her eyes big with concern.

“Yes, everything is great. I just wanted to let you know your mother has decided to move to Seattle.” I roll my eyes, not even a bit fazed that my dramatic mother is even attempting to do this. She wants our attention and must think this will do the trick. Joke’s on her.

I never really cared too much about my mom. Sure she was around, but it was always on her terms. When she was present she found ways to patronize Shayla and me, judging us, criticizing us, and honestly, just being a terrible bitch. I don’t ever answer her calls, not since she missed Shayla’s graduation day because she was too busy jumping some dude’s dick for a free ride. My mother’s face is the poster for narcissism. She uses men to get ahead in life and she let my sister down on an important day. She missed prom, she missed graduation—our moving day— Shayla’s fucking wedding for crying out loud. Making my hate for her acceptable.

My mother is mostly disappointed in me though. I started partying and drinking when she and my dad split when I was just sixteen. I went out, broke some rules, got some tattoos and became her embarrassment, the son she wished she never had. Oh well. My dad did enough parenting and loving in our household that I was fine without her. Shayla, however, is more in tune with her emotions. She’s a fixer, she believes she needs to fight for people to love her and that’s fucking bullshit. Mothers should love their children without reservation, without stipulations—that’s not Erica. No, Erica is the epitome of the worst example of a semi-present mother.

“Whatever, doesn’t bother me. This town’s big enough and I’ve been hitting the ignore button on her calls without any issues, so let her move here.” I smile a smug grin, hopeful that Shayla will follow suit.

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