Page 19 of Honest Boys Don’t Play

I shake his hand. “I want to give her the world.”

“Good,” is all he says before releasing my hand and getting in the car.

I spot Bertie just through the doors and I hurry to catch up with her.

CHAPTER 6

BERTIE

It’s been one week since our ill-fated trip to Rhode Island. Have I heard from my parents in the past seven days? Nope. Am I even a little bit surprised? Also no.

I’ve been avoiding Luke for the past week while I lick my wounds and try to get over my embarrassment that he had to witness what a mess my life is.

I’m so pathetic that I’m sitting in a booth at the nearest McDonalds sipping on an Emotional Support Sprite and trying not to cry. Normally, I can push past this kind of thing easier, so I’m blaming it on pregnancy hormones that I’m kind of losing my shit right now.

“I thought I saw your car.” I nearly scream at the voice and startle when I find my best friend Rosie sliding into the booth across from me. “Since when do you hang out here?”

I lift the aforementioned Emotional Support Sprite. “The baby wanted one.”

“Ah,” she says, nodding in understanding. “Makes sense.”

Does it? Unlikely.

“I haven’t seen you this week,” she says accusingly.

I haven’t been staying away from her, but in my need to avoid Luke it means I haven’t crossed my usual paths with Rosie.

“Been busy.”

“I know you saw your parents. I had to find out from Luke, not you, which is annoying since you’re my best friend and I’d rather learn things from you first.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

She reaches across the table and places her hand over top of mine. “Bertie, I know your parents. They’re unfortunately similar to mine. I’m convinced it’s something to do with having more money than humanly necessary that somehow automatically makes them a shitty person. But it’s not a reflection of us, okay?”

“Sure,” I mutter.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I tap my fingers against the side of the plastic cup. I should talk about it, but frankly she’s not the person I owe an explanation to for my behavior.

“I need to talk to Luke.”

“Seriously,” she huffs. “Like a week ago when you got back is when you should have talked to him.”

I wince. “I deserve that.”

“I’m not trying to be harsh,” she says, eyeing my cup like something is bothering her. Before I can ask her what the problem is, she grabs a napkin off the table and wipes the plastic free of condensation. “Sorry, that was driving me nuts. Anyway, back to you and Luke—he’s a good guy, Bertie. I’m not saying you have to date him just because you’re pregnant, but he is going to be in your life because you are. You need to learn to communicate with him.”

Tommy always told me I was overly communicative. That I didn’t need to confide every thought that popped into my head with him. In hindsight, he just didn’t care, but his words did their damage and now with this thing with Luke I freeze up and don’t communicate.

“I’ll talk to him,” I say, lifting my chin with more surety than I feel.

She arches a brow like she doesn’t quite believe me.

“Are you really?”

“Yes,” I grind out.