Page 50 of Afterglow

She ignores my reaction and goes on, looking sheepish. “You’ve been incredible, and things might not have started out the friendliest between us, but now… I’d like to think we’re friends now. Right?”

Friends.

Why does that word hit me like a punch to the solar plexus? Probably because the last thing I want with Leanne is just friendship. But it’s what I’m going to have to settle for—at least for now, maybe forever.

“Right. Friends.” I nod and stamp my disappointment down deep.

“I know a lot of people might jump straight into trying to be more in this circumstance but…” She shrugs, justifying herself, like this is a debate and she’s determined to win.

“We aren’t most people,” I say, giving her a wry grin.

“It’s not that I don’t want…” She averts her gaze, moving her hands over the armrests in nervous circles, and her cheeks heat. “I don’t know if having a baby is enough reason. I don’t want us to force something and regret it, making it impossible for us to do this together.”

I get where she’s coming from—I really do—but I also hate it a little bit. I think there’s a lot more she isn’t saying. She already had one relationship end based on her inability to get pregnant; starting another one solely because she is probably terrifies her.

“If you want to do this as friends, Leanne, then we do it as friends.” At this point, I’m pretty sure I’d do whatever this enigmatic woman wanted. If she asked me to jump right now, I’d say how high.

Fuck, I’m pathetic.

Her shoulders relax and she looks like a huge weight just lifted from them. How much time has she spent worrying about this particular conversation?

“So, is that what we tell—” she begins, but is interrupted by a voice from over my shoulder.

“Leanne? Oh my gosh, hi!”

I turn in time to see a mane of blonde hair sweep past me to engulf Leanne where she’s still rocking in the chair.

“What are you doing here?” Leanne asks. Her eyes go wide, then I watch all the walls I’ve been slowly dismantling rebuild themselves, brick by brick.

When the woman pulls back, I realize it’s Jenna. “I was looking for a gift for y—” She breaks off mid-word as she follows Leanne’s deer-in-the-headlights look until her green eyes lock onto mine.

“Bryce?” she questions, voice pitched high in surprise. Her head swivels wildly from me to Leanne and back again, the gears turning clearly in her mind as she puts everything together.

“It’s good to see you, Jenna,” I say in response, keeping my focus on Leanne, who’s frozen in place. Her face is stoic and closed-off, having done a complete one-eighty.

Jenna’s mouth drops open as she looks at her sister. “Wait… He’s… Your one-night stand was Bryce?” she shrieks, drawing the attention of nearly everyone in the store.

I duck my head and scrub my hand over my beard as heat blooms beneath it.

“Shhh…” Leanne hisses, color rising in her cheeks as well. But not in the sexy way I love so much—in anger and hurt. “For fuck’s sake, Jenna, could you have said that any louder? I think the person getting in their car outside didn’t hear you.”

Jenna surreptitiously glances around, taking in the curious stares of the other patrons. Then she hunches in on herself—shoulders lifting, neck shortening, chin dipping—clearly embarrassed when she finally meets Leanne’s eye again.

“I’m sorry, Annie. I was just surprised.” She steps toward her sister but then stops short and bites her lip. “Shit, I’m making this all worse, aren’t I?”

Did she call her Annie? I glance at Leanne and she looks bored almost, or resigned, like nothing about this surprises her in the least. I guess it wouldn’t, based on what she told me earlier.

Leanne stands up and grabs Jenna’s hand. “Come outside, Jenna. People are staring.” Then she pulls her from the store with one last longing look at the chair she just vacated.

I follow them out, not wanting to spend a second alone in that shop. The sidewalk is deserted but a chill wind whips down it, making me pull my jacket tighter around my chest.

“So, um…” Jenna attempts, but seems unsure of where to go from here.

With a beleaguered sigh, Leanne takes up the mantle, as any big sister would. “Yes, Bryce is the father.” I think she wants to roll her eyes, but instead, they pin me in place with an apologetic expression.

I offer her an encouraging smile. She can tell the whole world if she wants, and her answering smile makes me want to do exactly that—maybe shout it from the rooftops or something.

Jenna watches the interaction and begins to splutter. “So are you…? What are you…?” Her inability to complete a sentence almost makes me laugh.