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Blood races like a Formula 1 race car straight to my dick and the words “We could” flee my lips before I can censure them.
“I thought we weren’t doing that anymore.”
“We could,” I repeat.
She shakes her head and looks at me as she chews on the corner of her lip just as the doorbell rings for a third time. “Probably not a smart thing to do anymore.” She clears her throat. “We should let them in before Keegan breaks down the door.”
“Right.” I can’t even meet her eyes. Getting kicked repeatedly in the nuts hurts less than this.
Katy leaves me standing here like the chump I am and goes for the door, swings it open, and Keegan and Kenna immediately swallow her up.
“Oh my god! Are you okay?” Keegan cries, squeezing the life from Katy. “We’ve been worried sick about you all day and you had your phone off.”
“I’m fine,” Katy reassures them. “It was just low blood sugar. Not the first time I’ve passed out, and likely not the last.”
“I told you that you should have eaten something,” Keegan wails.
“Let her breathe,” Owen demands, pulling her in for a hug, looking her over, and then coming over to me for a fist pound. “Thanks for calling, man.”
I give him a nod because that’s about all I’ve got at the moment.
“Yeah,” Stone exclaims, giving me a bro hug. “That means a lot.”
“Definitely,” Mason agrees, with a slap on my back. “We’ve been pretty worried since we got the text earlier. Even after Cal told us she was okay and back here with you.”
In the two months Katy and I have been doing this, I like to think I’ve grown decently friendly with these guys. I talk with them. We shoot the shit. I like them, and I believe they like me back. But they’re not my people the way they are hers. I can’t confide in them as she can, and once again, I’m reminded just how alone I am.
“Do you want to tell them?” Katy asks softly, her gaze on mine from halfway across the room, and I can feel everyone else’s eyes bouncing between the two of us.
“Holy shit.” Keegan gasps. “You’re pregnant. Aren’t you?”
“We are,” Katy confirms, and the girls scream, hugging her again. “Stop! I haven’t even missed my period yet. It’s early, and you all know better than anyone that a lot can happen in the first trimester.”
“Did you just find out?” That’s Kenna.
Katy walks them into the family room off the kitchen and sits down on the plush leather sofa, tucking her feet beneath her.
She nods. She giggles. She exalts. “Yes. We found out when I passed out. They ran blood.”
Owen and Vander—ever fucking observant Owen and Vander—take in her sweatshirt, her wet hair, and then mine. They both catch my eye and read everything I’m doing a shit job of trying to hide and frown. They both frown at me. Like poor fucking Bennett, we see you, but she doesn’t get it. And for that reason, I need to go. If they see it, everyone else will, and I can’t. I just can’t with that right now.
I’m too furious with myself for even getting here in the first place.
“I’m going to go and give you time together,” I announce.
Before Katy can say anything or I can register her expression, I’m out the door and plowing down the street. I got everything I asked for, but I feel like I have nothing at all. I slam into the bar on the corner, the swanky gay bar that’s all trendy lighting, thumping house music, fantastic drinks, bar food, and thankfully no women who are interested in me. Moving to the South End has its perks.
“What can I get you, honey?” the bartender asks as I take a seat at the bar.
“Tequila. A lot of good tequila. No ice.”
“How good?”
“The best you’ve got.”
He goes for the tall, blue, and white bottle on the top shelf and uncorks it. He sets the low-ball glass on the wood and pours me a solid three fingers. “Maybe you should just call him and tell him how you feel.”
I blink at the man. “Maybe I should.” I pick up my phone and dial the number I’ve been avoiding for three weeks.
