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“I’m glad she didn’t,” I say honestly. “She was what I needed at the time. And I still do. I think I’ve messed things up beyond repair.”
“Judging by that text she sent, she’s the one who thinks she messed things up, and that’s not cool, man.” Carter shakes his head and picks up his phone, tapping buttons for whatever he’s looking at. Probably the damn stock market.
“I don’t want her to think she did anything wrong,” I confess, taking another swig of the protein shake.
“Then go to her. You’re making this more complicated than it has to be. She loves you, Er. I swear it. She’s been miserable since you went to Africa. Like, her personality changed. I thought she’d snap out of it, that maybe what you two had was just a fling and she’d move on. But she won’t talk about it with me. She hasn’t, and she won’t, which is why I put my full support behind this relationship of yours.”
“I thought you females talked about everything together,” I comment dryly.
She shakes her head. “Not this. I’m sure if you weren’t my brother I’d get the full scoop, all the dirty details, but she knows I don’t want to hear those.” She makes a gagging noise, and I laugh at her.
“Now you know why I’m grateful my best friend didn’t spill his dirty details.” I glance at Carter, who’s still looking at his phone, but he wears a smirk because he really is listening. I make a gag noise.
Her growing belly is reminder enough of what they’ve been up to behind closed doors.
Gross.
“Give me your phone,” Taryn demands, her tiny hand out to me.
“No. Hell no.” I put my hand over my shorts pocket as if she could grab it.
“No, seriously. Let me draft a text you need to send to her, before you lose her altogether. I’m shocked I don’t have my own text from her about what a fucking bastard you are.”
I narrow my eyes at her, then down at her belly. “Don’t cuss in front of my nephew.”
Carter snorts. “I’m fairly sure that kid’s first word is gonna be ‘fuck.’”
I laugh because I can’t help it. “To answer you, no. I’ll text her myself. You’ll make it sound too chick-ish, and she’ll know.”
She laughs. “You’re probably right. But if you don’t text her before you leave here, I’ll do it myself. I can hack into your phone, you know.”
Shit, she can.
My eyes widen. “You wouldn’t.”
My sister giggles, then pops a piece of watermelon into her mouth. She looks at Carter. “What’s for dinner?”
I stare at her, incredulous. “Do you ever stop eating?”
“Ohhhh, shit,” Carter says, setting his phone down and glaring at me.
I hop off the stool and toss the empty protein shake into the trash before she can slap me, jogging into their backyard to help myself to the swimming pool Taryn made Carter install. And I’m glad she did.
I kick out of my sneakers, whip off my shirt, toss my phone, keys, and wallet onto the table, and dive into the deep end for some laps. The water is freezing since it’s February, but I don’t care. I’m still hot from the tennis and my arms need the exercise.
After a few laps, I get out, dry myself off with a towel from the cabinet, and put my shirt back on. I check my phone. No more texts from Taryn, but I do have one from an unknown number.
Unknown:Hey
Curiously, I reply.
Me:Who’s this?
Unknown:Mariana from work.
Me:How did you get my number?
It’s rude but I don’t care. I’m pissed she has the audacity to somehow sneak around to get my number—because the hospital wouldn’t have handed it out—and then text me like we’re friends.
