by Toni Aleo
Biting the inside of her cheek, she shrugged because she didn’t want to accept what Vaughn was implying. That was crazy. They were friends. Close friends. Sure, she thought Jensen was hot, but she didn’t love the guy like that. She didn’t love anyone. Well, that was a lie, but the last time she fell for some douche, he knocked her up and ran, so yeah, she wasn’t stupid. Was she?
Man, maybe she was in need of therapy.
Pinching the bridge of her nose once more, she muttered, “That he’s a nice guy?”
“Yeah, go with that.”
“Jo!”
“Wren!”
“I don’t know what to do, and I…I’m… Fuck, I’m freaking out.”
“Well,” he said, clearing his throat, and she wanted to wring his neck. He was always so blasé about everything except when it had to do with him. “You know, Emma, Jensen’s mom—”
“I know who that is.”
“Just saying. But she always told me to listen to my heart. So maybe try that.”
“Has that ever worked for you?”
“Well, my heart didn’t start talking until Brie came along, so I guess it does.”
If she weren’t so annoyed and didn’t want to kill Vaughn, she would have swooned. Instead, though, she grumbled, “Fine. I’ll try that.”
“Good luck finding it in that black mass of a soul of yours.”
“I hate you, Vaughn Johansson. So damn much.”
“Love you too, sugar!”
Hanging up the phone, she threw it down before shaking her head and letting it fall to her desk. It landed with a loud thunk that echoed through her office. She couldn’t breathe since her kid was crushing her lungs, but she really didn’t care. Staring at her belly, she slowly shook her head.
“Well, kiddo, Mommy is in a pickle.”
Unfortunately, her stomach didn’t talk back with wise, amazing advice.
“I’d be stupid not to do it. But I’m scared. I don’t want either of us to get hurt, and if I can’t get over my own issues, I’ll do exactly that. But he’ll act like it’s no big deal. He’ll treat me the way he does now, and he’d love you. He’d love you so much. I’ve seen him with kids. I’ve seen the way his eyes light up and how he basically falls to the ground to play with them. He’s always wanted a big family because his was so small.” Moving her hands along her stomach, she sat up, leaning back in the chair as tears started to fall down her face. She had no clue what to do, yet a grin came over her face as her hands moved up and down her belly. “He’s a good man, kiddo. Good heart, a beautiful, amazing family, and I’ve known him my whole life. So there really isn’t a question, is there? I should say yes. Right?”
Still nothing. But then, she knew she was on her own. Though, if she did this, she wouldn’t be on her own any longer. Jensen would stand beside her. Which was weird but kind of nice too. But still, weird. Plus, the whole making love thing was still freaking her out. She was a thick girl, but now, now she was really a little fat, and she wasn’t sure how he would feel about that. What if he didn’t like her body? What if he decided he couldn’t do this? What if…
Stop, Wren.
It’s Jensen.
Even so, she had no clue what the fuck she was going to do.
Man, she really needed her mommy.
Tapping a pen to her lips, Wren stared at her computer screen where she’d typed the pros and cons of Jensen’s proposal. She always did this. With everything. It was how she chose her college, how she chose her first car, and also how she decided to move to Nashville for the Assassins job. Even when she found out that Bradley wasn’t going to be there for her, she wrote out a list of pros and cons for keeping the baby. The list was way con heavy, but the pro outweighed it all.
She loved it.
The baby.
Unlike her last list, though, she was finding out that this one was pro heavy. Which she didn’t like very much because she was doing everything to talk herself out of saying yes to Jensen. Which was why she had rewritten it over nine times. But no matter how many times she did that, it always came out in Jensen’s favor. Yet something was holding her back.
Vaughn’s words were playing with her head too. She stayed up all night thinking about how he’d insinuated Jensen had feelings for her. She played with the idea, even giggled like an idiot, but it all just seemed so unreal. Jensen obviously wanted to do this because he cared about her and wanted to help. He didn’t have an ulterior motive. It was Jensen. What you saw was what you got.
Right?
When a thought came into her head, she took the pen between her lips and typed it quickly beneath the con list.
Con
I don’t want to be married.
Someone, probably Jensen, would get hurt.
Or me. I could get hurt.
I could fall in love with him, and he would leave me.
That last one stung a bit, probably because it was what most likely would happen. Why was this so hard? Just say yes! No! Say no! Just kiss him and see what happens. That was an idea. Couldn’t be married to someone she couldn’t kiss.
Right?
Glancing back to the con list, she started to type.
Not sure how he kisses now. It has been a good many years.
Nodding her head, she looked to the pro list, and her heart sped up.
Pro
He would love the kiddo.
He would be a great dad.
He’s probably good in bed.
He’s loyal.
He’s nice.
He’s not a douche fucker like that asshole.
Bradley. As much as she didn’t want to think of him, she found herself doing just that. Ever since Jensen had come into her office only two days ago, her mind kept sneaking back to Bradley. Why? She wasn’t really sure, except for the fact that when she went home with Jensen for the wedding, she’d probably see Bradley. She wasn’t sure how he’d take seeing her with Jensen. Would he out them? Would he care? She wasn’t sure, and if she was going to do this, nothing could expose them. She’d want it to go smoothly for Jensen. For her too. Obviously.
It worried her. To the point that she had dialed Bradley’s number numerous times just to see what he would do. What he’d think. Why she cared was a legit concern, but at the moment, she wasn’t thinking about that. He shouldn’t matter, but she couldn’t shake that he would somehow get in the way. She couldn’t have that. Going into this with Jensen, she would have her own insecurities and self-destructive ways to do them in. She didn’t need the worrisome specter of Bradley to add in there. He had made it clear, through many texts, he wanted nothing to do with her—or her child.
Swallowing hard, she glanced at the clock on her laptop to see that she still had plenty of time before Tate Odder came in. Before she could chicken out, she reached for her office phone and dialed Bradley. She hadn’t spoken to him on the phone in six months. She wasn’t sure how this was going to go, but she had to make sure he was completely out of the picture. His secretary answered on the third ring.
“Bradley Washington’s office, this is Brenda. How may I help you?”
“Yes, Brenda. It’s Wren. Can you put me through, please?”
“Oh, Wren! How are you? I haven’t heard from you in ages.”
Letting out a small laugh that had no laughter in it whatsoever, Wren nodded. “Yeah, been superbusy, and I wish I had time to catch up, but I’m on a time crunch and have a quick question for Bradley.”
“Sure, hun. One second.”
Wren bit her lip as she waited, and then his voice filled the line. “Wren, why are you calling me?”
She was a little taken aback. “Well, hello to you too.”
“I told you not to call me, not to reach out. I’m a married man now. I love my wife.”
“Good for you, but I feel like we need to talk—”
“Unless you’re calling to tell me you had an abortion, there is nothing to talk about. I told you, I can’t do this. I’m not sure what you want, but yo
u look pathetic. Take the hint, I don’t want you. You were just an easy lay.”
This motherfucker right here… Her lips pressed together tightly, her eyes filling with fire. Taking in a calm breath, she said, “Bradley, I was calling to ask you—”
“There. Is. Nothing. To. Talk. About. Don’t call me ever again.”
Then the line went dead.
Holding the phone from her ear, her eyes started to well with tears before she slammed the receiver down and covered her face. She must have startled the kiddo because he went crazy, kicking her hard in the liver, but she couldn’t pay him any mind. She just didn’t get it. Was she pathetic? Was she so much of an easy fucking lay that he thought he could treat her like that? Why was she lying for him? She should put his ass through the wringer. He was fucking lucky that she needed her inheritance and that Jensen was offering to be a father to her kid because Bradley didn’t deserve shit.
But his words stung.
An easy lay?
Really? Was she that pitiful?
Gasping for breath, she reached for the phone before she knew what she was doing and dialed her mom’s number. When her mother’s cheerful voice filled the line, she almost hung up, but she knew her mom would call her back. Closing her eyes, Wren sucked in a deep breath, but before she could say anything, her mother’s voice was full of panic.
“Oh, Wren, why are you crying?”
Gasping for breath, she shook her head, squeezing out the tears. “How’d you know?”
“You do that hiccup thing when you’re crying. What’s wrong?”
And with that, Wren let go. Her tears were coming fast and out of control as she held one hand over her face, inhaling quickly before shaking her head. “I can’t tell you.”
“Oh, yes, you can. You can tell me anything.”
“Mom, am I a whore? Like, legit a whore? Ask Daddy. Am I?”
Her mom was stunned. Wren knew that, and she wasn’t sure why she’d even said that. Maybe for the reassurance that the way she had been living her life was okay? Because, not two days ago, she was cool with her life choices, but now, now she felt dirty. How did she let him do this to her? Was it the hormones? Crap, her kid was making her a tragic little crybaby.
“Oh, baby. No, you’re a good girl.”
But Wren wasn’t listening. Sobbing, she shook her head as she squeezed her eyes shut. “No, Mom. I’m a fucking easy lay, and that’s why I get these shit guys because I can’t keep my vagina in my pants.”
“I didn’t realize it was detachable. That’s a talent.”
“Mom!”
“Sorry, I’m sorry. I hate when you cry. You’re so much prettier when you smile.”
Man, these pregnancy hormones were no joke. Rage filled her from the tip of her toes to the top of her head as she cried out, “But, Mom! I’m not a trophy wife.”
“Well, love, who the hell cares?”
“I do! I want to be worthy—”
“Of what? Trash? Because anyone that uses that term is trash. You’re a beautiful, smart, semi-kind girl.”
She didn’t miss the semi, but they both knew Wren had a mean streak. Though, her mom’s words weren’t helping. It was pity party time for Wren Lemiere. Pull up a chair and grab some popcorn. “But, Mom, I’m fat.”
“You’re not fat, baby. You have fat on you, that doesn’t make you fat. You’ve got fingernails too. Does that make you a fingernail?”
“Mom! I don’t need your nine-year-old logic right now. I feel worthless.”
“Why, baby? That is insane. Who did this? I’ll kill them.”
Biting her lip, Wren closed her eyes and shook her head. Why was she doing this to herself? Fuck Bradley, he was the worthless one. She wasn’t dirt like him, but she couldn’t stop crying.
“Baby, tell me what’s wrong. Is it a guy? I’ll kill him.”
“No, Mom. I can’t tell you.”
“Yes, you can.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t even know what to tell.”
“The truth.”
“The truth is a clusterfuck, and I’m a mess, Mom. A lonely, hot mess.”
Her mom made a sound of distress before clucking her tongue at her. “Then call Wells. He’ll call me, and then we can talk.”
“I know, which is why I can’t tell him!”
“Well, I don’t like that you’ve figured this out.”
“Mom. I seriously love your humor on any other day of the week, but not today, please.”
She sighed heavily, and Wren could just see her, sitting in her easy chair, rocking as Judge Judy played on the TV. Her mom didn’t do sadness well; she was full of life. Always smiling and happy. She was probably coming out of her skin at Wren’s attitude, but she knew if she’d called Wells or her dad, they’d be on the first flight out to kill someone. Man, she had really gotten herself into a shitty fucking place.
“Fine. Call Shanna.”
“Fuck no,” Wren muttered. “Last person I need right now.”
Which was the biggest lie imaginable. She really could use the advice of her best friend, if that’s what she even was anymore, but Bradley was Shanna’s brother. Shanna wouldn’t be any help because Bradley never did anything wrong. Really, he was a poor excuse for a human being, and his family would be sickened if they knew the truth. She should tell them. Jerk.
“Vaugh—” Her mother stopped. “Wait, no, don’t call him. He’ll crack more jokes than I do. You know who you should call? Jensen.” Wren groaned. Hadn’t he been topic enough? “He would listen, and he would come over, be there for you. He wouldn’t tell a soul either. Such a good boy, my Jenny is. Call him. He’d be there for you without any questions.”
She knew that.
She knew that with all her heart.
So why wasn’t she calling him?
Because the second to last sentence under the cons list was playing with her head.
I could love him.
But would he love her?
Or would she just be the easy lay, the non-trophy wife, the fat friend with a kid who needed a father, that he felt bad for?
“Why am I here?”
Jensen threw an annoyed look back at Vaughn as he stretched between the pipes in the middle of the Assassins’ arena. Jensen needed his happy place. His sanctuary, and being between the pipes was just that. His home. He needed the grinding of the ice from his skates. The smell, man, he needed the smell. It had only been a few weeks since they had won and finished the series, but Jensen missed it. He missed his home because if he stayed in his apartment another second, he was going to lose his fucking mind.
Letting out a long, annoyed breath, he said, “I need you to shoot pucks at me so I stop thinking.”
Vaughn thought that over. “Maybe it’s a no?”
“Surely, she’d text me or call.”
“Or she’s a coward and is taking the easy way out. Maybe she called the gigolo.”
“I will take the dude out at the wedding.”
Vaughn sputtered with laughter. “That would make the gay wedding a billion times better.”
“You’re not funny.”
“What? I’m hilarious! Can you imagine, you’re standing there, and she walks in with him. Bam, you yell, ‘He’s a gigolo!’ And then I could be like, ‘Cue the glitter doves.’”
Jensen just stared at him, no emotion on his face. “The fact that I question my friendship with you should be a warning sign.”
Vaughn waved him off. “Nah, it’s part of my charm.”
“Or you’re annoying as shit.”
“Really? No one has ever told me that,” Vaughn said, moving the puck back and forth. “But really, it’s been like two days.”
The longest two days of Jensen’s life. He just didn’t get it. He’d laid it all out there. Short of telling the girl he loved her with everything inside of him, he basically offered her the golden ticket. If Vaughn were in his head, the dumbass would say “Cue the Oompa
Loompas from the factory” because Jensen was Willy Wonka. Crap, he was starting to think like Vaughn. Maybe he should distance himself from that guy. His crazy was rubbing off on him, but that was beside the point. A distraction from the fact that Wren Lemiere was holding out on him.
“I don’t get it, you know?”
Vaughn looked up. “You don’t get why Wren, our best friend’s little sister, who has a supershitty track record with dudes and who had decided just to fuck her way through life, wouldn’t want to commit to a guy she considers someone special to her?”
Jensen glared through his mask. “Brie said that?”
He scoffed and then nodded. “Yeah, ’cause, like you, I don’t get it. You’re basically handing her the golden ticket.” His eyes lit up. “You’re Willy!”
Yup, Jensen was losing his mind. “Please don’t start singing the song—”
But Vaughn was already humming, though he stopped once Jensen threw his mask up, glaring. “Done.”
“Thank you.”
“But for real, man, I told her—”
“Who? Wren?”
Vaughn paused. “Yeah, I told you. I talked to her.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Oh. Did I tell Brie that?”
“I’m not Brie!”
“Well, no shit. I don’t want to do you.”
“Oh my fucking goodness, you two-year-old! Focus! When did you talk to her?”
“The day you left her office.”
“What did she say?”
Vaughn shrugged. “That she didn’t want to hurt you.”
Jensen’s face twisted in confusion. “So she thinks she will?”
“Yeah, ’cause she’s Wren.”
Jensen chewed that over. “She’s not a bad person, though.”
“No, but she’s Wren. I don’t know. The female version of me, or what I used to be, just smarter.”
“Way smarter.”
“Yeah.”
Shaking his head, Jensen lowered his mask. “Whatever, let’s play.”
“You sure you don’t want to hug?”
“I will take you out by your knees. Shoot.”
So he shot. Over and over again. With each shot Jensen blocked, he tried to figure out why it was taking Wren so long. He got it. If she didn’t want to hurt him, then fucking don’t. It was that easy. Just be honest. He knew her, she knew him. She was comfortable with him, and he with her. He wanted to bang her; she liked to bang. He would be a great husband, great father, and yeah, she didn’t know how to do that stuff, but it would be okay. They’d figure it out together. He just needed her to get her head out of her ass and follow through with what she’d asked for. She was the one who wanted this. Not him. Well, he did, and she may have wanted a “fake” husband and father, but he wasn’t rolling that way. It was his way or no way.