One Wrong Move

by Meredith St. James

  "Your hair is a lot longer than it used to be," he said.

  "The prenatal vitamins worked miracles when I was pregnant. In fact, my hair was even longer when I first had Stella. Then, I had the pleasure of discovering what a hazard long hair can be with chubby little baby fingers."

  "I'm sad I missed that." He shared a rueful smile.

  "I'm sorry. I'm glad you're here now," I admitted.

  "Me too."

  I stopped the motion of Travis' hand on my hair by sliding my hand up into his. Maybe it wasn't the right thing to do after the mess we'd just found ourselves in, but I let myself be comforted by his presence.

  Our eyes met over Stella's head. She had fallen asleep and started to snore softly. "I hope it's okay, I sort of told her I was her dad."

  "I overheard." I squeezed his hand to let him know it was okay. "And I'm glad. To be honest, I was too nervous to tell her myself. She kept calling you 'Mr. Stingray' and I couldn't figure out how to correct her."

  I'd read a lot of baby books when I'd been pregnant. Not a single one of them had explained how to tell your toddler daughter that the strange man that kept appearing was actually her daddy. I was so relieved that Travis had taken the initiative. It took a huge weight off my shoulders.

  "Really? Mr. Stingray?"

  I smirked. "At least she wasn't calling you Mr. Starfish."

  "To be honest, I'd let her call me whatever she wanted." His words were full of sincerity.

  "I know you would."

  A small sound of protest left my throat as Travis pulled away. "I should get Laurel home. I drove her here."

  I bristled at that.

  "She's my friend, Ronnie. That's really all it is."

  I stared at the ceiling. "I don't trust you," I said so quietly I wasn't sure if I'd actually meant for him to hear it or not. He let out a harsh sigh. He'd heard.

  "I know." He ran his hand over the top of his head. "Do you want to talk about it?"

  "Not today." I shook my head. We needed to talk, but it could wait.

  Travis

  The day after the disastrous barbecue, the city had an unusual heatwave. I started to regret my decision to wear a nice button-down as I sat sweating in my plastic chair. It was barely nine in the morning and already the air conditioning unit in the basement of the student center was struggling to keep up.

  "This is a surprise," John Kasey commented as he stepped into the room. "Are you the only one today?"

  "Looks like it."

  John grabbed the chair next to mine and spun it so that he could sit facing me. I hadn't seen the man in weeks. In fact, the only time we'd talked recently was for him to ask me about my summer plans.

  "Everything okay?"

  "Sort of." I hesitated, not sure how much I should divulge.

  "Does this have something to do with Coach Briggs?" John asked blatantly.

  Immediately, I felt defensive. "What did he say?"

  John raised his palms, his way of telling me to calm down. "He just mentioned that he'd coached you before. It wasn't hard to put two-and-two together."

  I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. John had a tendency to pick up on the little details that other people missed. It made him a great athletic director, but a slightly obnoxious AA sponsor. There was no getting by with half-assing anything with him.

  Which was exactly what I needed.

  "I'm a dad," I blurted out, figuring it was the easiest thing to start with.

  John fell speechless.

  "And Vinnie Briggs' little sister is the mom." When John still didn't respond, I kept rambling. "I didn't know. Vinnie's little sister is Ronnie." John's eyebrows rose. We'd talked at length about Ronnie when we'd first started meeting. "She moved here with Briggs. I found out about our daughter sort of by accident. She's two. Her name is Stella."

  "This is… well, it's a lot to process. How are you feeling?"

  "It's all been pretty unsettling. Ronnie and I still haven't talked about what happened back home. I'm pretty sure Vinnie would like to pitch me into the Hudson River. I have absolutely no idea what my role should be with Stella." I took a deep breath. "But I have zero desire to drink, if that's what you're really asking."

  "You showed up here, though," John pointed out.

  "Honestly? I just thought coming here would be a good reminder of how much has changed. Vinnie doesn't seem to think I have. I'm not so sure Ronnie is convinced, either."

  "Travis." John shook his head. "We've talked about this before. Other people aren't obligated to forgive you for the things you did while you were drinking. Have you apologized?"

  "No," I admitted. "I've tried with Ronnie but she keeps saying she's not ready to talk about it. With Vinnie, I don't even know how to approach him. The first time I ran into him, he seemed like he just wanted to move past things, but that was before I was hanging around with Ronnie and Stella."

  "Sounds complicated."

  "Yeah."

  "Does Ronnie know about Kylie?"

  Hearing John say that name made me anxious. "I don't think so."

  "I have to admit, my biggest concern is—"

  "My sobriety?" I guessed instead of letting him finish.

  He shook his head. "Your daughter. Have you thought about how having a child is going to affect your plans?"

  "I've tried not to. Ronnie doesn't seem all that interested about discussing what comes next. This summer has been a nice kind of bubble for me to get to spend time with them, but I have no idea how she'll feel when football is back in season and classes start back up. My schedule won't be as flexible. I don't know what that's gonna mean for me getting to spend time with Stella." I hesitated before adding, "And Ronnie."

  John crossed his arms and seemed to consider all that I'd said. Finally he asked, "Do you intend to stay with the football program? Because we've already lost one quarterback in the last year…"

  "Yes," I answered firmly.

  The last thing I wanted to do was give up the sport I'd fought so hard for. Especially considering it was my golden ticket to getting my degree. If I quit the team, I'd be giving up my scholarship at Kelley. I wasn't Carter. He'd gotten lucky to have President Wallace take his side. I couldn't count on that sort of bartering chip for myself.

  "I think right now the best thing you can do is be patient. Wait for your chance to talk and apologize. In the meantime, keep doing your best to prove that you're better than they remember you. All those distractions at home—you learned to stop letting those exist for you here. You've made a home at Kelley, including a strong support system."

  "I have you to thank for a lot of that."

  The man had helped me keep my head clear when I'd gotten to Kelley. I'd been sober leading up to college, but the anxiety of being in a new place where I didn't know anyone had been a lot to handle. When I'd wandered into the campus AA meeting, I'd never expected to end up with the university athletic director as my sponsor, but life was funny like that sometimes.

  John Kasey had become my biggest ally.

  John stood, probably sensing that I'd gotten what I'd come for. "You made mistakes, Travis, but you did something about it."

  Travis

  After two straight weeks of regularly posing for the figure-drawing classes, the novelty had worn off. I felt agitated as I was forced to sit motionless for yet another hour of strangers staring at me. My jittery attitude also had something to do with the text message I'd gotten the night before.

  Wren and Carter were coming home.

  It was just a brief stopover in between destinations, but they were planning to be back that night. Wren had texted to ask if I'd pick them up from the airport.

  I couldn't be sure, but I had a feeling the impromptu return had something to do with Wren's curiosity about Veronica. I'd mentioned casually that it seemed like things were headed in a good direction for us. Ever since the barbecue blow up, Ronnie, Stella, and I had been spending every spare moment together. Wren had badgered me for details. She was the
nosiest friend I'd ever had.

  Somehow, I'd gotten it in my head that it was a good idea to rip the band-aid off. So, I'd invited Ronnie to ride with me to the airport. My hope had been that doing that would let us get all the weirdness of introductions out of the way. I was starting to have my doubts, though.

  What if Ronnie and Wren didn't get along? Wren had a tendency to get along with everyone—but Ronnie, not so much. I could only hope that Wren's whimsical personality would win Ronnie over. Fingers crossed.

  "Okay, I think that's good for today."

  Relieved, I reached for my robe and dressed quickly. The money for posing hadn't been bad, and I'd been able to indulge in some gifts and activities for Stella. I still wouldn't say I'd necessarily miss the job when summer was over.

  In the closet, I put my clothes back on before checking my phone. I had one message from Wren confirming their arrival time, and one from Ronnie asking if I wanted to get dinner before our drive to the airport. I sent a text to Wren to let her know I'd be there before selecting Ronnie's name from my contacts list. I held the ringing phone up to my ear as I left the storage closet.

  "Hello?"

  "Hey. Dinner sounds good to me. Do you want to take Stella with us? I think we'd have enough time to drop her back off with Gabby before we go to the airport."

  "Actually." Ronnie cleared her throat nervously. "I was thinking it might be nice if we went just the two of us. Gabby said she wouldn't mind feeding Stella dinner for me."

  I was so surprised by the suggestion that I stopped dead in the middle of the hallway. Several of the art students were forced to go around me as they left class.

  "Really?" I double-checked, half expecting her to say it was just a cruel joke.

  "We don't have to if you don't want to." Her tone had gone doubtful.

  "No, I want to. I really want to. I can pick you up in about an hour."

  "Perfect. See you then."

  "See you then," I agreed. "Bye, Ronnie."

  "Bye, Travis."

  I stayed in that one spot staring at my phone for several seconds after the line had gone dead. She'd genuinely shocked me.

  "Hey!" I heard Laurel's voice call from behind me. Within seconds, she was by my side.

  "Hey. Can I just say again how sorry I am about that whole barbecue situation?"

  She jokingly punched my arm, though I barely felt the contact. "You keep apologizing every time you see me. It's seriously okay. In fact, I actually sort of had a fun time talking to Gabby. She told me all about her work. It was pretty interesting stuff."

  "Yeah? What does Gabby do, anyway? Obviously, she works from home. She keeps Stella for Ronnie all the time."

  "Veronica hasn't told you?" Laurel seemed genuinely surprised. I just shrugged. "Gabby writes romance novels. Like, really filthy ones."

  "Gabby writes romance novels?" Saying the words felt all too weird. It was hard to picture buttoned up Gabby writing about people getting down and dirty together. If I'd learned anything from getting to know Laurel—it was that people could really surprise you.

  "Yeah. She uses a pen name so people don't really know it's her, but her books are super well-known. And it's all very business-like, too. She does all the marketing herself and makes these detailed release plans."

  "It sounds like you're more turned on by the organization than the content of the books," I teased.

  "Shut up!" she shrieked in return. She laughed though, so I knew I hadn't offended her.

  "Anyway, I better get going. Wren's coming home for the weekend and asked if I'd pick her up tonight. Ronnie and I are going to dinner beforehand."

  "Going to dinner or going to dinner?" she asked suggestively.

  I started walking away as I cryptically answered, "Time will tell."

  Those words were still bouncing around in my mind when I showed up nearly an hour later at Ronnie's front door. Vinnie's car was noticeably missing from the driveway. I knew from talking to Ronnie that her brother had been making himself scarce since his blow-up. I could tell it was getting on her nerves. She was determined to wait him out. Vinnie had always had a soft spot for Ronnie, so I figured it would only be a matter of time before he caved.

  Ronnie yanked open the door looking flushed. "Hi."

  "Everything okay?"

  "Yeah." She tilted her head back and laughed. "Gabby thought it would be a good idea to let Stella try finger-painting."

  "Oh no."

  "Oh yes." Ronnie swung the door open wider. The entryway and staircase were covered in purple handprints.

  "Where is Stella?"

  "Napping, now."

  "Are you serious?"

  "Yep. It seems her attack on the house was just exhausting. Gabby's cleaning the green footprints off the kitchen floor right now."

  "Should we stay and help?"

  Ronnie shook her head as she stepped outside, letting the front door fall closed behind her. "I actually did offer, but Gabby's already called a cleaning company to come help. She had someone on speed dial. Turns out there's such a thing as emergency cleaning services."

  My heart rate increased as we walked towards the car. I'd gotten used to having the same conversation every time we went anywhere. I offered to drive and then Ronnie would insist that she drove instead. Ronnie didn't say anything. She moved straight towards the passenger seat of my car, turning to look at me expectantly when we stopped next to the door together.

  She was letting me drive.

  "Veronica."

  "Travis." My name sounded breathless coming off of her lips.

  My lips crashed down on hers. She didn't hesitate at all before melting against me. It was risky, kissing Ronnie right in front of her brother's house when he could show up at any moment. I couldn't help myself. I tangled my fingers into the silky strands of her dark hair.

  She leaned back into the car, and I leaned further into her. The pressure between our bodies was delicious. Kissing her felt like coming home. It had been so long that I'd nearly forgotten what it was like to feel so connected to another person. I hadn't realized what I was missing until she'd come back into my life. I never wanted her to disappear on me again.

  Panting, she pulled back from me. "We should probably get to dinner."

  Disappointment flooded me. It was the second time she'd pulled away from a kiss. Silently, I pulled the car door open for her. Her eyes flickered in my direction, but she ducked to get into the car without a word.

  The night was off to a great start.

  I went around and started the car. I'd barely made it out of the driveway when Ronnie's hand crept over and weaved around mine, lacing our fingers together. I shot her a curious glance before focusing back on the road. I wouldn't dare risk even a minor wreck after Ronnie had put her faith in me.

  "I didn't pull away because I didn't want to kiss you. I pulled away because I was worried if I didn't that we'd never actually make it to dinner."

  "We should talk about things, Ronnie." I squeezed her palm.

  "I know." She sighed. "And we will. But for tonight, let's have a nice dinner and pick up your friends. We've waited this long, what's another day?"

  I remembered what John had said about being patient. With Ronnie's hand safely encased in mine, I went along for the ride. Ronnie would listen to what I had to say when she was ready.

  Veronica

  Travis hadn't properly prepared me for his friend Wren. Laurel was the only friend of his I'd met, so in my head, I'd pictured someone similar to her. I'd been entirely off-base. Travis and I were waiting patiently outside the airport when a small crowd flooded out. I'd thought I'd somehow instantaneously recognize who we were looking for, so I was completely taken by surprise when the couple appeared in front of us.

  The guy—Carter—stayed back a few steps, his eyes assessing. Wren did no such thing. She threw her arms wide and launched herself at me, forcing me into a hug. Wild red hair hung loosely around her shoulders. Her floor-length skirt swung around her ankles. She w
as the exact opposite of what I'd been expecting.

  "I'm so glad to meet you," Wren gushed. "I felt so bad that all of us were leaving Trav here by himself. Then you showed up, like fate." She was beaming from ear-to-ear.

  "Wren, you're coming on a little strong," Travis warned.

  She waved off his concern. "I'll be honest, I was sort of hoping Stella would be with you." She glanced behind us as if there was a chance we were just hiding the toddler.

  "It was too late," I explained apologetically. "She would have just been fussy."

  "What about tomorrow? Could I meet her then? Kids love me."

  "Because she can juggle. They think she's a clown," Carter added with a chuckle.

  Wren smacked his chest lightly, teasingly. Envy ran through my veins as I watched the easy way they interacted. They looked incredibly happy just to be standing next to each other. I forced myself to shake it off. I had a tendency not to be the friendliest of people around strangers, but that wasn't the impression I wanted to give to the two closest people in Travis' life.

  I forced myself to smile. "How was your flight?"

  "It was fantastic. Hey, what do you guys think about going by The Burgundy? I bought Ms. Hazel a souvenir. Spoiler alert, it's the creepiest voodoo doll I've ever seen."

  I cracked up. "She'll love that," I said knowingly.

  "Right?! I seriously can't wait to give it to her, can we please go?" She slung an arm around me and directed her question at the guys—as if she and I were in on the new plan together.

  Carter shrugged.

  "Sure," Travis answered carefully. As Wren bounced her way into the car—Carter in tow—Travis lowered his voice next to me. "Are you okay with that?"

  "Yeah. I should get to know your friends, right?"

  He studied me for a moment. "I'd certainly like for you to get to know them, yes."

  "Then it's settled. Besides, it'll be cool to see the night crew in action. I only ever work the day shift."

  They were famous last words. Nothing could have adequately prepared me for the chaos of a late night at The Burgundy. Afternoons and early evening were always so calm. I was suddenly overwhelmingly glad that Hazel had never asked me to work the night shift. The two bartenders on duty—Mark and Kayla—worked at a breakneck speed that I would never have been able to emulate. They each looked like the bartending equivalent of a rockstar.