“Please stop stressing out. It’s not good for you or the baby.”
She flips him the bird while hissing at him. Like, she legit hisses. I half-expect fangs to drop from her mouth.
Pregnancy hormones are terrifying, with a capital T.
“Butt out, buttface. Go harass some other pregnant woman.” She rubs a hand over her baby bump, which seems to have sprouted almost overnight. “Tell Daddy to stop being such a worrywart and to chill the fuck out.”
“You shouldn’t curse,” Kyler and I say at the same time.
“Ha.” Ky straightens up. “Keats agrees with me.”
I hold up my hands. “Don’t bring me into this. I was just sitting here, minding my own business—”
“You were sitting here wallowing in a pity party for one, and that stops right fucking now.” Faye pins the full extent of her erratic hormones on me, and I cower in fear.
Ky chuckles. “You’re scaring him, babe.”
“Good.” Faye pats her stomach lovingly, and it’s at odds with the fierce determination on her face. “He needs a good scare, because if he doesn’t pull his head out of his ass, he’s going to lose Austen for good.”
“I’ve already lost him. He’s having a baby with the She-Devil, and they’re getting married.”
“And he told you this?” Faye asks, her tone laced with suspicion.
“Well, no, but—”
“Have you even talked to him?” The truth is written all over my face, and she slaps me in the chest. “Oh my God. You’re an idiot. Like certifiable.” She shakes her head before looking up at Ky. “Babe. I need a hug, because otherwise, I’m going to keep slapping your brother until I’ve slapped the stupid out of him.”
Ky chuckles, strolling to his wife and pulling her up into his arms.
“You’re so strange,” I mutter, still a little afraid of her.
“And you’re stupid.”
I sigh. “I think we’ve determined that.”
“Keats, please tell me why you think Austen is having a baby with some nutjob and marrying her?”
“You’re not going to drop this, are you?”
“I’ve been biting my tongue since you returned from Colorado like a different man. Everyone told me to give you space, but they’re all stupid too.” She sniffles, and I share a concerned look with my brother.
I’ve been around my other sisters-in-law when they’ve been pregnant, and I’ve witnessed some emotional, hormonal outbursts, but nothing like Faye. It’s like her hormones are on super overdrive.
But I still love the bones of the girl.
“Okay, everyone’s stupid,” I say. “We’ve determined that now too.”
“Not Ky,” Faye says, resting her head on her husband’s chest.
“Babe. Just tell him,” Ky implores.
Faye thrusts her cell at me. “Austen just made a statement, and the TV station who originally reported the engagement has retracted it and made a public apology.”
I watch a representative from Berkeley read out the statement from Austen with mounting horror and the largest lump in my throat.
“It wasn’t real,” I croak, staring up at her through glassy eyes.
“You need to talk to him, Keats. I can’t believe you haven’t talked to him already,” Ky says.
“I fucked up.” I drop the cell on the bed, burying my head in my hands. “I majorly fucked up.” I don’t know exactly what has happened, but Austen’s statement confirms he’s not going to be a father, he’s not getting married, and he’s most definitely gay.
I jump up. “I need to get back to Cali.”
“Halle-fucking-lujah.” Faye visibly relaxes.
I grab my tablet and pull up the travel app, booking myself on the next available flight back to Berkeley.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Keaton
My palms are sweaty as I approach the door to our apartment, and I wonder if I should have given Austen advance warning I was returning early. I’ve no idea what kind of reception I’ll receive after weeks of ghosting him, but I’m prepared to grovel like no one has groveled in the history of time.
When I step into the hallway, the first thing I notice is moving boxes lined up against the wall. Panic jumps up and slaps me in the face, and I drop my bag, racing into the main living space.
I know he’s here somewhere because it’s late and all the lights are on. If he’d gone out, or he was asleep, the place would be in darkness. “Austen?” I call out, walking toward the bedrooms.
He appears in the doorway of his room, holding a box and wearing an emotionless expression.
We stare at one another, and the air is heavy with unspoken words. He’s only wearing sweats, and the sight of his gorgeous body reminds me of everything I’ve been missing. He cut his hair since I last saw him, and it’s shorter and tighter on top, but damn, he looks so good, and a pang of longing hits me square in the chest.
I have missed him so much. Even when I was trying to deny that I missed him to myself.
He clears his throat, staring at me as if he’s staring right through me. “I wasn’t expecting you for another week.” His voice is cold, so cold, and acid crawls up my throat and swims in my belly.
“You’re leaving?” I rasp, my eyes flitting to the piles of clothes on his bed and the boxes littering the floor.
“Yup.” He pushes past me, without making eye contact, walking off like he’s not aware my heart is lying in pieces on the floor at his feet.
“Austen,” I call out after him, rushing to catch up with him. “I’m sorry. So fucking sorry.”
He puts the box down on the island unit, turning to face me.
“Can we talk?” I ask. “Please.”
“Now he wants to talk.” He harrumphs. “Typical.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Let me guess. You saw the news. Heard my statement, and you’ve come to beg for forgiveness.”
God, when he puts it like that, I see how utterly stupid and pathetic I am. And weak. Let’s not forget that. “That’s pretty much it. Yes.”
“Tell me, would you have shown up here if you hadn’t discovered the truth?”
My mouth is as dry as the Gobi Desert, and this is probably one of those times where I should lie, but I can’t lie to him. “I don’t know,” I truthfully admit.
“That’s what I thought.” Hurt glimmers in his eyes, but he composes himself quickly.
“I made a mistake, Austen. I fucked up. Gia messed with my head, but I thought about it on the plane ride home, and I—”
“What are you talking about?” He interrupts me. “When did you see Gia?” His brows knit together.
“The day I showed up at your house. The day of the engagement dinner.”
Shock splays across his face.
“Of course, she didn’t tell you I was there.” That bitch is a real piece of work, but I don’t think admitting that will help my cause. I’ve no clue what’s happened or how Austen feels about her now.
“Tell me everything,” he demands, staring at me with those gorgeous green eyes, and I just want to fall at his feet and beg for forgiveness. But he needs the truth first. So, I tell him how I came to be at his house that day and what transpired.
“That stupid conniving cunt,” he seethes, locking his hands behind his head. I’m shocked to hear Austen speaking like that, especially about his so-called best friend.
“What happened?” I ask. “Just tell me what she did.”
He exhales heavily, walking silently into the living room, and I follow. He sits down on the couch, and I drop onto the recliner chair.
“I went home to tell my parents the truth about my sexuality and the fake relationship with Gia. I got in late, crashed like the dead, and I woke up to everyone in the house that Sunday morning. Mom was ecstatic at the news Gia and I were having a baby, and I almost keeled over in shock.”
“She ambushed you,” I say, and he nods. “And your mom had no issue with you having a baby young and out of wedlock.�
�
“It was her every fantasy come to life and a far better outcome than believing the reports in the news about her son being gay.” He scrubs a hand over the thin layer of stubble on his face, and I notice the strain etched into his features and the dark shadows under his eyes, for the first time.
I haven’t been suffering alone. That much is clear. Except where my suffering was self-inflicted, Austen’s was wholly undeserved.
“I’m so sorry, man. I—”
“Do you want to hear this or not?” he snaps in a manner that is uncharacteristic for him. He’s angry with me, and I don’t fault him at all. I’d feel the same if the roles were reversed.
I nod, encouraging him to go on, promising myself I’ll stay quiet until he’s got it all out.
“Gia was pregnant with Hendrix’s baby, except Hendrix is going down for drug possession and dealing, and it’s likely to be years before he gets out of jail.” A muscle pops in his jaw as he looks off into space. “In her spaced-out brain, she concocted this new plan and decided to announce it to our parents without consulting me.”
He sighs again, leaning back in the chair, and I can see the toll this has taken on him. “I was furious, but I said nothing at first, because I wanted to get Gia alone to find out what the fuck she was playing at. She avoided me most of the day while our mothers discussed wedding dates. Gia had lied about that too. She told my mom I had already proposed and that I was hoping to give her her mother’s ring.” He shakes his head, a look of disgust washing over his face. “She was wearing the fucking ring when I came down that morning.”
Yeah. Tell me about it.
I say nothing.
“Later that night, I got Gia upstairs and forced the truth out of her. She admitted she was pregnant and begged me to go along with the plan.”
“That’s why you released that report to the news,” I blurt.
He just stares at me. “You’re unbelievable.” He shakes his head repeatedly. “Did you ever know me at all?” His voice raises a few octaves.
“You didn’t go along with it,” I say, instantly understanding.
“Of course, I fucking didn’t!” he yells, standing. “She doctored an old picture of us and sent the report to the media. She thought I’d go along with it if she made it public, but I guess she never really knew me either.”
The blow slices through skin, bone, sinew, and blood, cutting me to shreds on the insides, like intended.
But I can give Austen this. He can take it all out on me because I deserve it.
“I told her bluntly that she had until the next morning to come clean with her parents or I would do it. I told her all the lies ended now.” He paces the room. “I told her I was in love with you, and I wanted to spend my life with you.”
I am such a fool. If only I had given my boyfriend the benefit of the doubt. If only I had given him an opportunity to explain. I’m like one of those sad fucks you read about in books who wrecks everything by believing a lie and refusing to communicate.
Guilty as charged.
It doesn’t matter that my head was fucked from the media storm and that I was depressed. I failed my boyfriend. I failed myself. And if I can’t fix this, I’ll have lost the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
Sobs build at the base of my throat and tears stab my eyes, but I hold everything back, giving Austen the floor.
“She knew I wasn’t bluffing,” he says. “That’s why she deliberately took an overdose and almost died.”
My eyes widen in horror.
“She lost the baby,” he says, sitting back down, resting his elbows on his knees. “And our parents blame me.”
“Wait? What?”
He barks out a bitter laugh. “She confessed to everything. Hendrix. The drugs. Our relationship being fake. I think that was her way of trying to make it up to me, but it was too late. Our parents had twisted it into a story of their own making.”
Pain rips across his face, and he shields nothing from me. “They said I put her in harm’s way by agreeing to the fake relationship in the first place, because I facilitated her continuing to see Hendrix. That I stood by and did nothing when it was clear she had a drug problem, and my biggest failure was not coming clean straightaway about the baby and the wedding. According to my mom, if I’d told them, then Gia wouldn’t have tried to commit suicide and she wouldn’t have lost her baby.”
“They said that to you?” I’m appalled, and my heart breaks for him.
“Yeah, oh, and Mom’s disgusted I came out. Apparently, I’ve made her look foolish, and she can’t show her face around town.”
“I’m sorry, Austen. I hope you know none of that is your fault. What happened to Gia is on her. Not you.”
“I needed you, man.” His voice breaks, and I hate myself.
“I didn’t know. I thought—”
“That I was off playing happy family with my best friend?” he hisses, and I deserve every ounce of his hatred. “How could you, Keats? I know she manipulated both of us, but how could you believe the crap that came out of her mouth? How could you shut me out like that? I called and texted so many times, and you never picked up!”
He shouts out the last part, and I move toward him, to take his hands, but he shakes his head, moving sideways on the couch until he’s out of reach. “Don’t touch me. I don’t want you to touch me.”
“Austen, please let me make this right. Tell me what I can do? I’ll do anything to make it up to you. I’m an idiot. And it’s not enough to say I was depressed and stressed and not thinking clearly. You’re right. I should’ve let you explain. I got off that plane convinced she was lying, but the TV report seemed to confirm her lies.” A harsh laugh escapes my lips. “And I know better than anyone how the media twists things. I never should’ve believed it.”
“No, you shouldn’t.” Austen stands, and the sad look on his face has my heart breaking all over again. “I needed you, Keaton. I’ve been there for you, and when I needed you the most, you ghosted me.”
I stand, begging him with my eyes. “I hate myself, Austen. I hate that you went through that alone.”
“I wasn’t alone. Colton came through for me after it became clear you wanted nothing more to do with me.”
“I’m glad he was there for you. That you had some support, and as long as I live, I’ll never forgive myself for abandoning you like I did. But I promise, if you give me another chance, I swear I won’t let you down again.” I step closer, my heart aching when he steps back, folding his arms around himself, as if to protect himself from me. “Please, Austen. I love you. Please give me another chance.”
“If you really loved me, you wouldn’t have been so quick to believe all the lies. If you were really accepting of who you are, and you believed in us, you wouldn’t have shut me out like that.”
Tears glide down my cheeks, and I do nothing to stop them. I want him to see them. To know how much I hate that I tore us apart. I knew I would ruin us in the end, and it seems I was right. “Tell me what to say,” I plead, in between sobs. “Tell me how to make this right because I can’t lose you, Austen. I can’t live without you.”
“Don’t do this.” His eyes fill up, and tears roll down his face. “Don’t make this worse. Let’s just walk away and try to remember the good times before it all went to shit.”
Drawing a brave breath, I close the gap between us, grab his face, and slam my lips down on his. If I can’t get through to him using words, I’ll resort to anything I can, because there is no reality for me where he doesn’t exist in my world.
He kisses me back, but I don’t rejoice, because this kiss is rough and brutal, laced with dark emotions that have no place in our love. We devour one another, in one last desperate battle cry, even though we know the war is already lost. When he softens the kiss, and his fingers wind into my hair, I know this is goodbye, and I break apart, sobbing uncontrollably, unable to accept this is the end.
“Please, Austen. Please don’t do this.” I don’
t care how pathetic I am. I came here to grovel, and I’m not going back on my word. “I love you so much. I was weak, but it doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”
“I can’t be with someone who runs away at the first sign of trouble instead of pulling me close. I can’t be with someone who doesn’t prioritize me when I need him.” He palms my cheek, brushing my tears away with his thumb. “I can’t be with someone who doesn’t fight for me.” His voice cracks, and he breaks down in my arms. I hold him close, in the only way I can comfort him now.
“I want to fight for you, Austen,” I say when I’m composed enough to speak. “This is me fighting for you.”
He pulls back, swiping at his eyes. “It’s too late.”
“It’s not. We’re so good together. This is just a bump in the road. Albeit a big one, but we can get through this. Just give me a chance to prove I can be all those things for you.”
“You’re not ready, man.” His smile is sad. “Maybe I’m not either.” He pulls himself together, and I force myself to stop crying, because I recognize defeat when I see it. “I’m focusing on football, and I want to give it my sole dedication. Tomorrow, I’m announcing that I’m entering the draft.”
My jaw hangs open. “You are?”
He nods. “I’ve spoken with scouts from the Baltimore Ravens. They want me, man. They’ve had their eye on me, and after my performance at the bowl game, they believe the time is right. They’re one of the more liberal teams in the NFL, and they think I’ll feel at home there.”
“Oh my God, Austen. That’s amazing. I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you. They helped me get an agent and a trainer, and I’m moving to Baltimore in three days. I’ll train at a place up there, and Berkeley has agreed to let me finish my degree online.”
I’ve been absent for so much, and it’s all moving forward without me. I don’t know how I’ll survive without Austen Hayes, but I’m happy he’s getting to live his dream because no one deserves it more.
“I’m happy for you, man. I hope it all works out because you deserve it.”
“Thanks.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “This isn’t how I expected things to end up, and I’ll always cherish the time we shared.”
Adoring Keaton: A Stand-Alone Friends-to-Lovers MM Romance (The Kennedy Boys Book 9) Page 28