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Hate the Player: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romantic Comedy

Page 26

by Max Monroe

“Oh my, that baby is growing.”

  “Gah. Tell me about it.” Camera back on her face, she frowns. “Luca has to tie my damn shoes for me now. Unless I can sit on the couch and binge on Netflix, I’m basically useless.”

  I grin. “Sounds like Luca is being a good baby daddy and taking care of you.”

  Billie nods. “For as grumpy as my future husband can get, he’s been a damn saint. I probably owe him like a thousand blow jobs.”

  “Hell yes!” I hear Luca’s voice chime in from the background, and Billie rolls her eyes, ignoring him completely.

  “So, I gotta say, sis, I started bawling like a baby when I saw your Instagram post.”

  “What? The blueberry waffles made you cry?” I ask, my voice tender with worry.

  She nods. “It just made me miss them all so much, and I started thinking about how you’re basically celebrating your birthday alone in Memphis, and I feel bad for not being there.”

  “Billie, don’t be ridiculous. I’m fine,” I assure. “And I could easily say the same thing about your baby shower last weekend. I felt horrible that I couldn’t be there.”

  I tried like hell to switch around my schedule to attend her baby shower, but I just couldn’t make it happen. Though, I did get Rocky to assist me in buying a whole bunch of gifts from me for Billie to open at the party. Still doesn’t make up for my absence, but I already have plans to spend lots of time with her in LA once I’m officially done filming.

  “You couldn’t be there because you were working on location in Memphis.”

  “Just like how you can’t be here because you’re too pregnant to fly and working in LA.” I offer a knowing smirk. “And don’t worry, I’m not spending my birthday alone.”

  “You’re not?” she asks, hope rising in her voice. “Who are you spending your birthday with?”

  Uh…

  There’s a huge part of me that wants to tell my sister the truth because I never keep anything from her, but before I know it, a lie falls off my tongue.

  “I’m going to grab dinner with some of the cast and crew later.”

  Well, I sort of lie. I mean, technically, I am going somewhere with one of the cast. I don’t know where, but that kind of counts…right?

  “Oh, okay, good,” she says through a relieved sigh. “That makes me feel a lot better.”

  Frankly, none of it makes me feel better. I hate the fact that I’m lying to my sister about spending time with Andrew, but I’m simply not ready to make it a big thing.

  I mean, I don’t even know what we’re doing or what we are, so how can I begin to explain it to anyone else? Pretty sure I need to figure it out for myself first, you know.

  Honestly, I’m having a lot of fun just living in the moment with him and not getting fixated on labels and shit. Not to mention, Andrew Watson doesn’t exactly have a reputation for long-term relationships.

  Yeah, but for a guy who supposedly doesn’t want anything besides fun, he sure is doing a hell of a lot of sweet and swoony things for you…

  I shake off my insane thoughts and focus on chatting with my sister. I ask her about the nursery and her last appointment and how her production schedule is going. And while she rambles on with all sorts of updates, I set my phone against the pitcher of coffee and eat my blueberry waffles and listen.

  Talk about bittersweet birthday perfection. Thanks to modern technology, it almost feels like the old days, when Billie and I were kids and our parents and Granny were still alive.

  Andrew

  First rule of Crazy House, ignore the guy named Tim.

  “Seriously, Andy. Where in the heck are we going?” Birdie asks as I drive us farther into the suburbs just outside of Memphis.

  I glance at her out of the corner of my eye and take a right at a green traffic light and onto a road I’ve driven across a thousand times. This is my hometown, my old stomping grounds, and in about five minutes, it’ll be the location of Birdie’s birthday surprise.

  “Almost there, sweetheart,” I update her, and she just rolls her eyes.

  “You’ve been saying that for the past forty-five minutes.”

  “Which means we must be really close, then.”

  “Uh-huh, sure we are.” An annoyed sigh escapes her lungs. “For all I know, you’re probably just going to drive me around for two hours then bring me back to the hotel.”

  I laugh, take a left onto Oak Street, and after I pass three houses, I pull the rental into the driveway of a home I’ve known since I was a kid.

  My parents’ house.

  I spot Lance and Kelly’s SUV in the driveway, parked right behind my dad’s pickup truck, and nestled beside my mom’s Honda Accord is Uncle Tim’s Jeep.

  Looks like the gang’s all here.

  I pull my rental to a stop and cut the engine, and when I look over at Birdie, I find her staring at my parents’ quaint two-story house in utter confusion.

  “Uh…I really hope you know the people who live here.”

  “I know them…sort of.” I wink, and she reaches out to slap a hard palm against my chest.

  “Andrew! I swear to God, you need to tell me what in the heck we’re doing right flipping now.”

  “Or else what?”

  She raises a defiant brow. “Or else I’m not getting out of this car.”

  I smirk at that, knowing full well I wouldn’t have any issues with carrying her into the house myself, but in the spirit of keeping Birdie on her toes, I come up with a white lie on the spot.

  “Fine,” I say, feigning acquiescence. “My publicist set this up a few months back, and I couldn’t back out of it.”

  “Your publicist?” She narrows her pretty brown eyes. “What are you talking about?”

  “See, there was this giveaway. For fans. And to make a long, boring story short, a woman named Mary Lou—” I nod toward the house “—who lives here, won.”

  “Won what?”

  “A private meet-and-greet with me,” I add. “And, well, now you, too.”

  “You’re joking, right?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t joke about my biggest fans.”

  Technically, I’m not lying. I mean, my mom is my biggest fan.

  “And she’s super excited about Grass Roots,” I continue. “And you being in Grass Roots, and I just figured it would be an incredible surprise if I wasn’t the only one who showed up at her house today.”

  “This is my birthday surprise?” she questions. “A meet-and-greet with one of your biggest fans?”

  “Isn’t it great?” I question, acting completely clueless as to just how weird this surprise would be for anyone. I mean, meeting someone else’s biggest fan on your birthday? That’s some seriously fucked-up shit.

  Good thing that’s not actually her surprise…

  I fight the urge to laugh and hop out of the driver’s seat. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s go say hello to Mary Lou.” I walk around the hood of the car and open her passenger door. “Man, I’m excited,” I say as she hesitantly steps out. “I’m sure you’re excited too.”

  “Oh, I’m something,” she mutters, and I have to swallow another laugh as I reach out to grasp her hand in mine, leading her up the driveway and toward the front door.

  When I don’t bother knocking and reach out to turn the knob, Birdie starts to freak the fuck out.

  “Andrew!” she exclaims on a harsh whisper. “What in the hell are you doing? We can’t just walk into this woman’s house!”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I refute. “Mary Lou knows we’re coming.”

  “Oh my God!” she whispers harshly again and tries to tug her hand out of my grasp. “If I end up in jail on my birthday, I will break your nose on purpose this time!”

  But Birdie is no match for me, and as gently as I possibly can, I drag her into my parents’ house, and it only takes a few seconds before the real birthday surprise occurs.

  Five human versions of jack-in-the-boxes jump out into the entry hallway with ridiculous birthday hats
on their heads.

  “Surprise!” my dad and Lance and Kelly shout at the top of their lungs.

  “Ahhhhhhh!” my uncle Tim screams for no fucking reason, adding jazz hands and an awkward tap-dance of his sneaker-covered feet.

  “Happy Birthday, Birdie!” my mom exclaims with a smile after she smacks my uncle Tim across the back of his head.

  My family’s outrageous presence is punctuated by cheesy-looking birthday decorations put up all throughout the house. Streamers and balloons and a giant happy birthday poster with Birdie’s face photoshopped in—you name it and my mom has managed to pull it off.

  “Oh my God, what is happening right now?” Birdie just stands there, half smiling, half confused, and maybe even a teensy bit pissed off at me.

  Sounds about right. I grin.

  “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” I say and turn toward her. “I just couldn’t let go of the fact that teenage Birdie’s dream of a real surprise party never came true. And while I’m more than aware that you don’t know any of these insane people, I promise they didn’t just escape from a mental institution. They’re actually my family.”

  When she told me about losing her parents and her granny and how it’s basically just her and Billie now, it kind of broke my heart. Especially when I thought about what that would be like for things like Christmas and Thanksgiving.

  I don’t know why, but when I realized she wouldn’t be able to spend her birthday with her sister, something inside me just felt like she needed to be surrounded by family. And my family might be crazy, but they’re good people. Kind, loving, just…the best.

  I knew without a doubt they’d welcome her with open arms.

  Not to mention, it also helped that my mom and Kelly are big fans of Birdie’s music.

  “So, there’s no number one fan named Mary Lou?” she asks, scrunching up her nose at me.

  “Technically, there is a Mary Lou. But she’s not a winner from a contest. She’s my mom.” I say with a smirk, and a shocked giggle jumps from Birdie’s lips.

  “You are nuts.” She moves her eyes toward my family. “Did he force you guys into this ridiculousness?”

  My mom shakes her head, a big smile brightening her lips. “We wanted to, Birdie.”

  “Yeah,” my brother Lance chimes in. “You’ll find out pretty quickly that Andrew can’t force us into shit.”

  I laugh. Birdie smiles.

  “You’ll have to excuse my initial shock,” she adds. “Andrew told me we were at a fan’s house who had won a meet-and-greet contest.”

  “Jesus Christ.” My dad bursts into laughter. “Son, sometimes I wonder how you have your mother’s and my DNA.”

  “Maybe Mary Lou got frisky with the mailman, Teddy?” Uncle Tim teases. “I mean, before old man Lenny retired his mail sack, he always seemed a little off to me.”

  My mom sighs and proceeds to step forward and smack my dad’s brother upside the head again. “That’s strike two, Timothy. The next inappropriate comment that comes out of your stupid mouth, you’re outta here.”

  But in true Tim fashion, he just shrugs and takes a sip of the beer in his hand.

  “Birdie, I’d like to officially introduce you to my awesome albeit crazy family,” I say and proceed to make the introductions. “This is my mom, Mary Lou, and my dad, Ted. My brother, Lance, and his wife, Kelly. And, unfortunately for everyone here, this is my uncle Tim.”

  “His favorite uncle Tim.”

  “Nope.” I shake my head. “That’s incorrect. He’s just my uncle Tim.”

  Once everyone hugs Birdie and gushes over her music and celebrity for a good ten minutes, and my crazy uncle offers a few more insane comments, everyone heads into the kitchen and out onto the deck to enjoy the early taco dinner my mom prepared.

  But just before Birdie can step outside, I gently grab her hand and pull her to face me.

  “You good?” I ask and search her eyes.

  Truthfully, when I had this idea of enlisting my family’s help to throw her a little surprise party, I thought it was brilliant. And once I told my mom about the possible plan, her excitement ensured Operation Surprise Party was full steam ahead. But now, inklings of uncertainty have started to settle into my stomach.

  Was this too much? Is it weird for her that she’s here with my family?

  It’s not weird for me, but I can’t be sure what’s going on inside that head of hers.

  Yeah, if anything, it feels insanely right seeing her here with my family…

  “What do you mean?” She tilts her head to the side, confusion visible in the depths of dark chocolate. “Of course, I’m good.”

  “I mean, is this okay?” I ask. “The surprise party. Meeting my crazy fucking family…”

  “Are you kidding me?” she exclaims, and a big, genuine, sweet-as-fuck smile consumes her face. “This is fantastic.”

  Thank everything.

  “Yeah?” All of a sudden, my heart feels like it may burst from my chest.

  “Yeah.” She leans up on her tippy-toes and presses a kiss to my lips. “Thank you for making my thirteen-year-old dreams come true.”

  “The pleasure was all mine, sweetheart.”

  “Now, we need to get out there because I’m pretty sure your uncle Tim is trying to add some beer into the salsa, and your dad looks like he might blow a gasket.”

  I laugh and gesture for her to lead the way. “Let’s do it.”

  As we step out onto the deck and I watch my dad and his brother arm wrestle over a bottle of Budweiser, I don’t miss the infectious, amused laugh that escapes Birdie’s pretty lips.

  And I don’t miss the way my mom goes out of her way to make Birdie comfortable.

  Or the way my dad and Lance grin whenever Birdie teases me relentlessly.

  This woman fits in surprisingly well with the crazy Watsons. And for some strange fucking reason, I’m really enjoying seeing her here, with my family.

  Pretty sure you’re more than enjoying this, bro…

  Birdie

  This might be the sweetest, weirdest, craziest birthday surprise anyone has ever given me…

  Though, truth be told, I’m loving it. Andrew’s family—especially his uncle Tim—is certainly a little nuts, but hell’s bells, they’re pretty damn awesome, too.

  It’s been years since I’ve been surrounded by family like this. And my goodness, these wonderful people were willing to throw me a birthday party before they had even met me. The instant I stepped into the Watsons’ home, they welcomed me like I’m one of their own.

  Seeing as my birthday has all sorts of memories laced with my parents and Granny, ever since Billie and I lost them, this day has always had a bit of a dark cloud hovering over. But today, surrounded by the Watsons, it feels like the sky has opened up and the sun is simply smiling down upon us.

  There is laughter and teasing and Andrew’s uncle Tim saying the most absurd, hilarious things. There is so much love and affection flowing between this family that it makes my heart want to burst.

  I’m just…mesmerized by it all.

  And happy. Yeah, I’m really fucking happy inside the Watsons’ family cocoon.

  “Andrew!” Mary Lou shouts for him through the kitchen window that looks out onto the deck where all of us are sitting around and enjoying an after-dinner drink. “Come in here for a minute!”

  “Be right back, sweetheart. Looks like my biggest fan needs some help.” He grins over at me, reaching out to gently grip my thigh. “If Uncle Tim tries to offer you some of his moonshine, say no.”

  I laugh and hold up my glass of Moscato. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m sticking to my sugary-sweet wine.”

  He cringes. “Fuck, I don’t know how you drink that shit.”

  I stick out my tongue at him, and he chuckles before hopping out of his seat to head inside the house to help his mom.

  “All right, Birdie.” Uncle Tim grabs my attention as he leans his hip against the railing of the deck. “I’ve heard that popular song of yours
on the radio, the one about your ex-boyfriends, and I have to know, what inspired that?”

  I quirk an amused brow. “Are you asking me if I’ve slashed an ex’s tires and slept with his best friend, Tim?”

  A hearty laugh escapes his lips as he points an index finger in my direction. “Yes! That’s exactly what I’m asking.”

  “Hmmm…” I tap my index finger on my chin and pretend to think it over. “Sometimes it’s so hard for me to remember everything that inspires my music.” I simply shrug my shoulders. “Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t. I can’t be sure, though. It’s feeling pretty foggy when I try to think back on it.”

  “Oh, c’mon!” he continues. “You can tell us, Birdie. We Watsons are known for keeping secrets.” He playfully punches Andrew’s dad on the shoulder. “Right, Ted? This family is like Fort Knox.”

  Ted bursts into laughter, and Andrew’s brother Lance follows suit.

  “What?” Tim asks, glancing between his brother and nearly fortysomething-year-old nephew. “Why in the hell is that funny?”

  “Uncle Tim,” Lance chimes in. “I’m pretty sure the last time anyone told your crazy ass a secret, it was about Andrew getting his first big role in Hollywood.”

  “Are you talking about that damn superhero movie he was in? The one where he had to wear the spandex suit?”

  “Yeah,” Lance responds on a snort. “And you weren’t supposed to tell anyone about it because the studio hadn’t announced it yet.”

  “And I didn’t.”

  “Bullshit!” Andrew shouts from the kitchen window. “You posted it on goddamn Facebook! Before the studio had announced anything!”

  “No, I didn’t.” Tim shakes his head, and Lance cracks up.

  “Uh, yeah, you did. And I’m pretty sure Andrew had to pay for your big mouth.”

  “I did!” Andrew responds, but he’s no longer visible through the kitchen window. “The studio made me renegotiate my fucking contract!”

  “Yeah, right.” Tim waves an unconvinced hand in the air. “Y’all are making shit up.”

  “Basically, Birdie,” Lance says and meets my eyes. “What we’re trying to say here is, don’t tell this old bastard anything.”

 

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