Page 77 of Wild Child


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CHAPTER23

ZEKE

DECEMBER

Days pass in a haze, and the more I seem to have it together on the outside, the more I’m losing it on the inside.

My family keeps saying I’m growing up, that I’m acting like an adult, but that’s just it. Acting.

I roll over in bed, and I’m faced with the picture that’s still on the nightstand. The ultrasound reminds me of Nova’s speech last week. Her words have haunted me.

I get to choose how this kid sees me. Just because I have a shit father doesn’t mean I’ll be one.

I’m sure she was trying to make me feel better. To help me know that I have some control over my life. But I’ve never felt connected to Jason in any way. I’ve never worried about our similarities—not like Xan, who soothes himself with alcohol, or Jet, who is quick to anger.

I pull the comforter up over my head, letting the weight of it all pin me to the bed. I can hear Nova moving around in the kitchen, probably cooking something again. She’s as bad as Tabby, and then Tabby swooped in and made it worse because now they’re experimenting. Every day, Tab’s here, and they’re debating how much frickin’ parsley is the appropriate amount of garnish.

I growl low in my throat. I should be happy that my sisters have taken to Nova like they have. Even Pris is being nice, which is as shocking as me being a gentleman.

Nova starts talking, her voice muffled but excited, and I flip the covers off my body. I pull on a pair of loose grey sweats and a purple hoodie, leaving the hood up to cocoon me in thick fabric as sleep clings to every bit of me.

Then I hear another voice. A familiar voice and I’m wide awake.

Jess?

I step out from the bedroom as Nova’s coming down the hall, followed by Jess. She carries a box stuffed with pastel fabric and hoists it onto the island. Instinct tells me they’re baby clothes.

“Jess?” I ask, and they both look at me. Even Figgy turns my direction before hopping up on the counter and sticking his head in the box to inspect it.

“Hi,” she says with pink cheeks and a shuffle to her step. She tucks her hair back and then takes her attention from me to Nova. “Dad and I were cleaning out the garage, and I found all this baby stuff from when my sister had her boy. I heard…”

Jess trails out, and I laugh, still hazy from sleep but aware enough to know the town is buzzing with news of another Stryker baby.Another Stryker boy. Will he be as bad as the others?

Nova is moving around the kitchen, and I can’t get a good read on how she’s feeling about my ex-girlfriend bringing us baby clothes, especially after everything with Mom.

“Isn’t that sweet?” Nova glances at me. “She brought them for me to look through.”

“I wasn’t sure if you were staying until the baby was born, but I just thought it might be nice to have a few things. I remember my sister in her final months. She turned into a raven, snatching up and hoarding anything that resembled baby gear.”

The effort Jess puts behind this means something, but I’m too undercaffeinated to think. Maybe she’s over us already, or perhaps she just really has such a giving personality that this is natural—no ulterior motives.

Nova smiles and pours coffee into a mug. The smell of it makes my mouth water. She holds the cup in her hands and weaves around the island to me.

Her eyes capture mine as she holds the cup out thoughtfully. No one does that for me. My whole life has beenfuck you, get it yourself. Tabby is the only one who ever picks up on what I need or cares to make me feel better about anything.

I frown at the comparison between Nova and my sister, recognizing the weird mama’s boy thing that’s associated with it. I shouldn’t be comparing the two, but it’s less about who they are and more about what I am. They both notice me beyond what I put out there.

But Tab is gone in a couple weeks, and who knows how long Nova will stick around and pretend like she enjoys my small-town life. If they both leave, it’ll crush me.

A smile tugs the corner of my mouth as I take the steaming mug, our fingers overlapping.

“Thanks,” I say.

Nova lingers in front of me for a moment, and I commit her to memory. Messy ponytail. Flawless, glowing skin. A tight tank top that hugs the bulge in her belly—with a massive wrap-around sweater because she’s constantly freezing. Leggings show off her curves, which are becoming more pronounced by the day.

The moment disintegrates with a single shudder down my spine, and I startle like I’d completely zoned out. I slide onto the stool, and she shifts her attention to Jess.

As they sort through a box of clothes, the odd tension begins to lift, and after a while, they laugh together like old friends. Nova keeps making these high-pitchedawwwnoises at the sight of the tiny clothes. The cat sits, staring at me with a twitch in his tail. At one point, I snap up a onesie thing and hold it up, then I lay it in the palm of my hand and shake my head.

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