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I give Tara a deadpan expression despite her accurate statement. Eric is acting a bit bullish, but nothing that bears being called out over.
“I swear, these shoes are going to be the death of me,” Melissa yelps as she ambles over to our group, hobbling as she slides her heels off one at a time. “I don’t know what I’m wearing to my wedding, but it is definitely not these!”
As she looks at Eric and Luke with their matching stances of aggression, she holds up a finger. “I fear there’s something happening here,” she states.
Tara leans into her childhood best friend. “There’s some weird pissing match over Jillian happening right now, which is a little confusing because Eric and Jillian are dating and she and Luke are not.”
“Eric and I are not dating,” I answer quickly. Too quickly by the way Eric swivels his body to me, glaring in insult.
“We’re not?” he asks, exasperated.
“I mean, we’ve gone on two dates, but we’re notdating.”
“Do you kiss all the men you’re not dating?”
Luke’s eyes bulge at Eric’s comment. “You kissed this guy?”
“Oh snap, this is getting good.” Tara’s glass is nearly empty as she takes another sip, downing the rest.
I step toward Luke and speak low yet forcefully. “This is none of your business.”
“Kind of is,” he retorts with a clenched jaw.
“Wait. Are you two together?” Eric asks.
“No,” Luke and I answer at the same time.
Tara giggles. “Girl, I don’t know why you went to a sperm bank to have a baby because you have plenty of testosterone in your life to choose from.”
Tara’s words have Luke’s brows furrowing as he turns to her.
“What did you say?”
“Testosterone?” she repeats.
Luke’s eyes are hardened as he looks at me again. This time, those piercing eyes are shooting lasers of hurt, disappointment, and pure anger at me. “Did you tell everyone you conceived from a sperm bank?”
The six interested eyes of our audience are staring at me in keen interest, waiting for me to answer him. I swallow as I crane my neck up and stare Luke straight in the eyes.
“I said I had a sperm donor, yes. The rest was up to interpretation.”
“This is not a conversation to be had in public. It’s no one’s business but Jillian’s,” Melissa states, her tone as sharp as someone trying to be the adult in the conversation.
Tara hits Melissa in the shoulder. “You knew Jillian didn’t conceive through medical advancement?”
“I only found out recently,” Melissa explains.
“Then, who’s the father?” Tara asks.
“Me.” Luke’s tone is fierce.
Tara steps back to make room for her jaw, which is wide open and falling onto the ground as she points at Luke. “Holy shit! You’re Bobo the Sperm Guy?”
I place my fingers on the bridge of my nose and squeeze.
“You call me Bobo the Sperm Guy?”
I’m glad my eyes are closed so I don’t have to see the look Luke’s giving me.
