Page 16 of Nightingale


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"Oh, really now, and you don't think I would have said, 'Hey Lark, I'm going to go out and get my dick sucked' if that's what I wanted to do? And so what if he is the father? Do you think that's going to change anything? Because let me tell you— it's not, and last I checked you were very well aware that I like the dick!" He makes a vulgar gesture with his fist and his tongue poking out from inside his cheek.

He's not wrong, but I'm taken aback by his tone and nearly lose my patience at the mimed blow job. I still try to defuse the situation anyway.

"I may have jumped to conclusions, but we can all say that I'm not exactly in the best frame of mind to be making major decisions, yet they still have to be made. I'm confused about just about everything, so I'm sorry that I thought incorrectly and that I took my feelings out on you. With us at each other's throats, there apparently are still other issues that are going to need to be addressed." I gesture between the two of us and briefly wonder if the others are staying out of it because there's no way they haven't heard us.

"While you all got to have your say about what you wanted to me, and admittedly, I can say at the time I wasn't in the mood to reciprocate, at some point that's going to have to happen. Because I will have expectations if we stay together or get together or whatever this weirdness is." That maybe wasn't the best thing to say judging by his response.

"What do you mean with 'this weirdness'? Are you ashamed of us? What's your damn problem with it? Or maybe I'm not good enough because you're not the only one I find attractive? Or maybe that you've always thought I was gay when I wanted more with you but wasn't willing to risk it? Did you stop to think that I'm the one that's pissed off that my best friend thinks that I would go behind her back, but also that she would paint me in a corner with her vision of what she wants without bothering to discuss it with me?" He keeps the questions coming rapid-fire without giving me a chance to answer, and I start to worry about the blood vessel poking out of his forehead. My bestie has straight up lost his shit.

And so have I.

"Really? That's great! Apparently, I'm not the only one being a special snowflake today," I retort while slapping the oven mitt and spatula on the counter. "When the timer goes off, can you manage to pull those out and put them on the cooling rack? I think I need to go lie down before I say something I'll regret."

Too pissed to wait or even acknowledge if he has anything else to say, I stomp out of the kitchen, past Marcus who is just coming back in, and up to my room. This time I lock both doors, the one to the bathroom and the one leading to the hallway. They can kiss my ass if they think I'm talking to any of them for the rest of the day.

And with that I take my hopefully valid pity party to bed.

I must have crashed harder than I thought because the light streaming through the window lets me know I'd slept the evening and night away. The dry, nasty taste in my mouth and indents in my skin, from sleeping in my clothes, prompt me to get up as much as my near to bursting bladder.

First order of business is to use the toilet and then the shower. I do the potty dance while grabbing some sweats and a tank top from the drawers before going and putting my ear to the bathroom door. It doesn't sound like anyone is in there, but I also don't want to accidentally walk in on Braeden, or to even talk to him, really. And that makes me remember that I am not happy with him at all.

By the time I'm clean and dressed, I feel a little bit better and brave venturing downstairs to get something to eat. Unfortunately, even if I had the willpower, hiding in my room and skipping meals isn't an option in my condition; there's more than just myself to think about now.

That thought sets a niggling in my brain that won't shut the fuck up, causing my steps to halt part-way down the staircase. There's more than just the baby to consider too. I know I need to reconcile some things and make decisions about others, but it's so freaking hard right now. I scrub my face with my hands in frustration, briefly thinking I'm glad I didn't put any makeup on. The limbo we seem to keep finding ourselves in makes everything more difficult.

Braeden’s voice floats up from the hall, and I'm guessing he must have heard my steps on the stairs because he yells up at me, "Are you going to be a coward and avoid me today, or are you going to come around here and talk to me?"

I don't bother to take the bait, but I do continue my descent and go straight out onto the front porch instead of staying in the house. No one else needs to witness another blow-up between us.

Brade's hot on my heels and comes out, shutting the door behind him, before proceeding to cross his arms and lean back against the door jamb.

"Are you going to explain what bug crawled up your ass yesterday? The one that had you thinking I spent my morning run getting sucked off by your 'baby daddy'?" So glad he's planning to be reasonable. I keep my eyeroll to myself.

"For one, I said possible baby daddy. And two, I may have misconstrued things, but you gotta admit it looks kind of bad. Regardless, you're right— we're going to have to figure out what to do, and how things are going to work, and where we stand." I start ticking my points off on my fingers. "Not with just me and you either, but with me and everyone, and how that will work as a group if that's the decision. Right now though, I'm not in a good place to handle all that." I finish with a shrug. Truth is truth.

Braeden’s expression softens minimally, his head slowly nodding before he answers me. "You're right, and I don't think the rest of us are in a good place either, but it's the hand we've been dealt, and unfortunately, it's time-sensitive. So if you want to shelve the major conversations until later, we can do that, but don't think that I won't be bringing them up as soon as possible when this is all cleared up."

Now it's my turn to acknowledge we've come to an understanding. While things aren't as comfortable as they once were, I still go into his open arms when he holds them out for me. He's still my best friend even if things have changed. It breaks my heart that they may have, but there's nothing to be done for it now— all we can do is move forward.

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