AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What? No, why?”
“He was supposed to go by the bakery and then come straight here. He isn’t answering his phone.”
“Ringer and Flame just got here. They’re out front with Tank and Ghost. Maybe ask them?” Lilah says.
I nod my head before leaving the room. Before I leave completely, I smile to myself as I survey the wide smiles on faces of all the little girls dancing. We even have a young boy dancing right behind Rebecca. The sight fills my heart with hope for the future.
Lilah was right. All of the guys, minus Trigger, are huddled on the couches in the parent viewing area.
I stop right behind Ghost and force myself to smile at them all. “Thank you guys so much for coming.”
Ghost turns in his seat and his broad smile has a real grin pulling at my lips.
He holds his arms out wide, gesturing to the whole studio. “Proud of you, kid. Can’t wait to see what you do with it.”
“I couldn’t do it without all of you guys,” I say as my voice cracks with emotion. I rub his bald head, but my hand comes back oily and I cringe.
Ghost laughs at my disgust and rubs his own head. “Baby lotion,” he chuckles as he waggles his brows.
“Feels gross,” I jest and stick my tongue out. “Is that what babies are supposed to feel like after lotioning them?” I laugh.
Ghost shrugs, turning back in his seat. “The ladies love it between their legs.”
“Oh, gross!” I playfully smack him on the head.
All the guys laugh at my expense.
I clear my throat, coming around the couch to lean against the armrest. “Have any of you talked to Trigger? He was supposed to be here a while ago, and now he isn’t answering his phone.”
Tiny sits forward. “I talked to him about forty-five minutes ago. He was showering and then stopping at the bakery. He’ll be here soon.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. At least someone has talked to him recently.
He’s fine. He’ll be here soon. Quit worrying.
My subconscious tells me to quit worrying, yet my hormones are telling me to panic. Something happened.
Last night when he got to my house, it was very clear that something was wrong with him. He was there physically, but his mind was a mile away. He showered in my downstairs shower and, without a word, came out and plopped on the couch. I started a movie without any conversation and within thirty minutes, his soft snores were coming from his spot a few feet away from me. Part of me could tell that he wasn’t in a talking mood, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.
I originally invited him over because I wanted to have a talk with him about us and where we can go from here. I’ve been working really hard with Sophia on accepting and channeling certain thoughts when it comes to my parents and what I want out of a relationship with Trigger. I wanted to talk to him to let him know how I’m feeling, and to let him know I’m really trying.
I take back my spot near the door to greet more people. A young couple comes in with a beautiful red-headed little girl, who looks to be maybe five years old.
“Look, mommy! Her hair is like mine!”
“It is!” I coo and smile down at the little girl, then to her mom. Looking between both the man and woman, my brow furrows. They both have brown hair.
“Her dad’s hair was red,” the mom adds. I look at the young man with her again and realize there is no resemblance between the little girl and him. Her skin is a lovely pale ivory, and his olive tone shares no likeness.
I smile at her with a nod and crouch down to the little girl. She is wearing a pale pink leotard with the cutest tutu overtop.
“I told her today was just to look but she insisted on wearing her new outfit.”
“I love it!” I tell the girl, tugging lightly at her tutu. “What’s your name sweetheart?”
“Emery,” she says shyly.
“I love that name!”
