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Start With Me: A Novel (Start Again Series Book 3)

Page 4

by J. Saman


  I’ve been trying to get through Game of Thrones, but I’m like two seasons behind everyone else and frankly, I’m just not feeling TV at the moment.

  Flipping it back off, I’m bathed in a familiar and comforting silence. And that makes me smile as I lay back into the soft plush of my purple velvet couch, stretching my arms above my head. This apartment has been mine since I moved out here two months before Ryan finally made the move.

  That’s what? Two and a half years now? Something like that.

  It was an easy choice. Ryan said he wanted to get the hell out of Philly, Luke was in Seattle, so it all fit for him. Ryan—and pretty much Luke, too—own and run an information security company. They were hackers in college, adversaries who competed in hacking rings at rival schools. But Luke got caught infiltrating a bank’s firewall and though Ryan was already in, the feds never caught him. Ryan ended up paying for Luke’s legal fees and then the two started working together after that.

  Flash forward years later and they’re inseparable.

  Ryan decided he wanted to move out west and I had just graduated from UPenn, so Seattle felt like a good move for a lot of reasons. With the crazy amount of money that Ryan pays me to be his assistant and fill in with a few other positions in the company, I was able to get this dope-ass place with a killer view.

  No roommate required.

  Which really is sort of perfect for me. I hide in plain sight most of the time, but in the small confines of an apartment, there really is no way to preserve your secrets from another human. Not that most people could tolerate living with me anyhow. I play music at all hours of the day and night. I like to go out, and occasionally, bring someone home with me. I’m an insatiable neat freak and a slight germaphobe.

  I’m definitely an acquired taste for most. I don’t get personal. At least not about myself. And I sure as shit don’t allow some preconceived social moray to dictate how I behave or dress.

  But every now and then, I wish things were simpler for me. That my life and choices weren’t dictated to me in such uncertain terms.

  The emotional price of that certainty, however, is just too high to pay right now.

  That said, I’m sort of longing to call Kyle right now. I probably would if it weren’t so late. It’s a recurring theme lately. One that has only been growing stronger each month. He’s somehow become the best part of my day, and though our friendship is based entirely through a phone, I wouldn’t trade him. How weird is that?

  Ivy and Kate like to tease me that he and I have a mini relationship going on, but we don’t. I don’t do that sort of thing now. Been there, done that, bought the t-shirt. Before I burned it. Things like that just aren’t an option for me anymore.

  Sex with no commitment is all I can afford. Which is probably why I don’t last with anyone longer than a few times. Sex is a primal, animalistic act. Something our bodies require, and mine is certainly no exception. If you’re capable of disconnecting intimacy from sex, then you’re golden. I’m just not one of those people.

  At least not for very long.

  Which is why I have to be unapologetic in my endeavors. I don’t search for meaning behind every sexual act. I know the meaning all too well. Maybe that makes me a bitch, but it is what it is.

  And as a result, the world sees exactly what I want them to.

  Even if it is a lie to a certain extent. Even if I’m not truly that person. Well, maybe not entirely. Part of me enjoys playing the role of the bad girl. Of being the object of desire. I like the way men look at me. I like the way they come after me. And I really like the way I am able to lose myself in them.

  That’s probably the best part of all.

  I use them. They use me. Both parties are happy and free to go about our lives. And even though on occasion, I miss the idea of someone knowing me, of someone wanting to know me, I know better.

  The only women I really hang out with are the likes of Kate and Ivy, even if Ivy is across the country. Oh, and my bandmate Maren. Those chicks may be all straight-laced and relationship-minded, but they’re the least judgmental people I know, which makes them awesome in my book.

  Speaking of the devil, Kate is blowing up my phone.

  I reach over, balancing my weight on the end of the couch to grab my phone before returning to my supine position, stretched out like a cat. “What’s up, my lady love?”

  “You done with your date?”

  She sounds like she swallowed a frog. This can’t be good. “Yeah. What’s going on, Katie Duck?”

  “I had my ten-week OB appointment this morning.” The way she says that, gets my attention and I immediately bolt upright. “I had a touch of spotting this morning. We got to listen to the heartbeat. And then they did an ultrasound to confirm.”

  “Okay,” I draw out the word, scrunching my eyebrows because I feel like I’m missing something here. Those sentences don’t really fit together.

  “I need you to come over,” she says with an edge of panic to her tone. “I’m freaking the fuck out, and Ryan is no help, Claire. He’s just walking around the living room with a goddamn smile on his face.”

  “Kate, hold up,” I interrupt. “I’m so confused. Is the baby okay? Why do you need me to come over and why is Ryan smiling about you spotting?”

  Kate sighs into the phone like explaining this may just push her over the edge. “He’s smiling because we heard two separate heartbeats, and then they confirmed it with ultrasound. He’s smiling because we’re having twins, Claire. You get that? Twins. As in two babies at the same time. I need you to come over so you can have a glass of wine, since I can’t, and allow me to bitch about how I’m freaking about this. And I need someone to listen to me who won’t judge me because I’m freaking out.”

  I can’t help the laugh that sputters from my lips. “On my way, Mrs. Duck. Open me a bottle of pinot and I’ll be happy to listen.”

  “You’re awesome. See your punk ass in fifteen.”

  She hangs up and I stand up with a smile on my face. Twins. Damn, that’s crazy. Good, but crazy. No wonder she’s freaking out.

  Time to go swoop in and save the day superhero style.

  Chapter 4

  Claire

  “Papa Bear,” I say to Ryan as he opens the door for me. And sure enough, he’s beaming the smile of a man whose wife is pregnant with two of his babies at the same time.

  “Can you freaking believe it?” he asks, pulling me in for a hug that is so un-Ryan-like I’m a bit unnerved by the gesture. “Twins, Claire. I’m having Twins.”

  “Dude, pull back. You’re squeezing the life force from my body.”

  He releases me with a sheepish grin. “Sorry. I just didn’t see this coming. I know Katie needs to adjust to it, but I can’t stop smiling and I think it’s starting to piss her off.”

  I laugh, because I can totally see that. “She’ll be fine.” I pat his large arm. “It’s a lot for her body to take on and the extra hormones will not do that girl any favors.”

  He nods, getting where I’m going with this. Kate and Ryan have been married almost a year now and they’re as happy as any couple I’ve ever seen. But Kate’s other family lingers in the back of her mind. The family she lost in a tragic car accident several years back. So, even though I know she’s ecstatic about having twins, she’s also feeling guilty and conflicted.

  “Thanks for coming.” His tone turns genuine. I hate it when he does that. I don’t handle emotions all that well, if I’m being honest. Especially from Ryan. He may be one of my closest friends, but he’s also my boss.

  “It’s cool. Where’s my chica?”

  I toss Ryan my coat and head into his house. I picked this house out for him before he moved out here, so by extension, it feels a little like mine too.

  “Kitchen,” he calls behind me as if I needed an actual answer my rhetorical question. “She’s been staring at the bottle of wine like she wants to pick up and smash it. I think she could use a glass.”

  I laugh, shakin
g my head as I leave Ryan to his own devices and enter the large kitchen at the back of the house. Sure enough, Kate is, in fact, staring daggers into that wine bottle.

  “Don’t break it until you pour me a glass.”

  Kate looks up at the sound of my voice, and I get a small half smile from her, but that’s it.

  This is hitting her hard.

  “It’s twins, Claire. And I’m so goddamn happy about it,” she says as tears begin to pour from her blue eyes in a steady stream.

  Her long platinum blonde hair is hanging off her shoulder in a messy braid. I mosey up to her, leaning against the marble island, forgoing the stool. This feels like the sort of situation that requires standing.

  “I am,” she says in earnest. “I’m happy. I mean, twins are such a blessing, right?”

  I nod.

  “So why can’t I shake this? Why can’t I shake this feeling of impending doom? Why can’t I get past the sensation that something awful is lurking, waiting to pounce? It was hard enough thinking about trying to care for and protect one baby, but two?”

  And then she breaks down, dropping her head into her hands and sobbing while her body trembles. Christ, what can you say to someone in her position? I get where she’s coming from. I get why she’s so scared.

  I wrap my arms around her, pulling her into my chest. Kate is a shorty, and though I’m petite in my own right, I still have a few inches on the woman. She folds into my chest easily and I let her get it all out for a few minutes before I even bother trying to speak.

  “Nothing is waiting for you, Kate,” I whisper, kissing the crown of her head. “You’re blessed with these two babies because you freaking deserve them. And they deserve you as their mother. They even deserve Ryan as their father. These babies are going to be blanketed in love and protection. They have their parents, who would die for them. Me, Luke, Ivy, Kyle, even your crazy mother, too.”

  She laughs through her tears at that, nodding against my chest.

  “We’ll all watch out for those munchkins with our lives, Mama Duck. And you know, Maggie and Eric are watching out for them too.”

  She lets out a loud sob, but she nods, trembling and sniffling into my shirt. I let her, because I love her, and this is an old t-shirt anyway.

  “I won’t make it,” she whispers, like this admission is a weakness. “If something happens to them, I won’t survive this time. I feel like I need to go see Eric and Maggie. Go to the cemetery and talk to them, but the idea of me flying makes Ryan really nervous and it’s worse in his mind now that it’s twins. But I think I need to go,” she says again, a bit more forceful than before. “God, what if Maggie feels like I’m trying to replace her? I was worried about that with Eric when I married Ryan. But Maggie? I can’t do this.”

  Wow. This is old, darker Kate going on. This has me a touch worried because she’s not exactly rational at the moment.

  “Listen to me, baby mama drama.” I squeeze her against me tighter. “You need to get your head on straight. You will not do those babies growing in that womb of yours any good if you lose your shit now. You are not replacing Maggie,” I say emphatically. “Your heart will always be full of her, but that doesn’t mean that you don’t have room for more. Maggie would want siblings, and Eric would want you to be happy. You know all of this. You. Know. All. Of. This. So, snap out of it.”

  “I know.” She swallows hard, but I think she’s starting to come around. Kate pulls away, wiping her tear and mascara-stained cheeks with her fingers before taking a deep, fortifying breath. “I’m fine. I just needed a good cry about it all I think.”

  “You’ve got this?” I ask, looking intently into her eyes.

  “I do. I’m just scared.”

  I smile down at my little friend, because it takes a brave woman to admit when she’s scared, and that’s one of the things I admire most about Kate. She’s freaking brave. As brave as anyone I’ve ever known.

  “We good in here?” Ryan asks, hesitantly standing in the threshold of the kitchen.

  “Good.” Kate says with a beaming smile for her husband. “Sorry.”

  “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about, love. This is big. I get that.”

  “Do you always have to be so damn understanding, Ryan?” I tease. “I mean, shit.”

  He doesn’t laugh. He just glares at me with his jade eyes encased in black plastic frames. And that beard? You’d think he could trim it more than once a week. Stupid hipster. “Now that you’re here with us, Claire Bear,” he grins widely and I glower at him for the use of that retched nickname. “I need you to go to New York on Sunday.”

  “What the fuck, chuck? Why ever for?”

  He pours me a glass of wine, sliding it across the smooth counter in my direction, like this will get me to do his bidding. It probably will. Kate stares at the thing like it’s a traitor.

  “Because there is an important meeting with some British guy who practically runs a multi-national financial company. He’s looking to utilize our security software and infrastructure as part of his network since they’re expanding.”

  I just stare at him blankly.

  “He doesn’t do business for the first time over the phone,” Ryan continues. “He’s a meet-in-person sort of guy.”

  “That still doesn’t explain why I have to go.”

  “Because I’m not flying anywhere. Even if I didn’t require an entire pharmacy to get on a plane, I’m not leaving Katie right now. Luke is off on one of his ‘business trips’,” he puts air quotes around the words, “and I don’t know when he’ll be back. But I doubt it will be in the next few days, judging by his last text.”

  “Still not getting why it has to be me.”

  Ryan runs a hand through his hair, as he deliberates telling me whatever the hell is up with him. Turning to look at Kate, she gives him a small nod, before his attention focuses on me again.

  “It has to be you because there is no one else that I feel like I can trust.” He leans forward onto the counter, propping his elbows up and intertwining his fingers. “For better or worse, you’re my family, Claire and I need you.”

  Shit. I hate it when Ryan gets real. Most of the time we just joke around with each other and are rarely serious. So, when he plays that card, I can’t help but listen.

  “When was the last time you spoke to Kyle?”

  “Kyle?” I ask completely befuddled, because Ryan never asks me about his brother. My eyebrows knit together. “Um. I don’t know. He’s been super busy. Maybe last week when he called the office, but it was brief. I’ve texted with him a bunch though. Why?”

  “Okay,” Ryan says slowly. “Fuck and shit,” he mutters, spinning around and pacing toward the back hallway.

  “Dude, what?” He’s scaring me. I mean, Ryan is hardly ever serious, even though Luke teases him sometimes and calls him Mister Serious. But really, that’s meant to be ironic, so just what the absolute fuck?

  “It’s nothing. It’s fine.” Ryan spins back around, walks the three steps to the marble counter and downs half my glass of wine. Yeah. Sure. Nothing. And if I continue to eat cherry Danish for breakfast every morning, my ass won’t spread.

  “You’re quite possibly the worst liar in the history of liars, and I have known a few in my time. So, I’m calling shenanigans. Spill your shit, Ryan before I call your brother this instant.”

  Kate and Ryan exchange a look and that pisses me off more. I hate feeling on the outside of the inside.

  “I think he’s just a bit lonely at the moment,” Ryan says, lying blatantly to my face. “You know he had that hard ass case and is burnt out. I don’t know, I think it would really boost his spirits if when you’re in New York for that meeting, you guys caught up. I know you’re like middle school BFFs now.”

  I stare at Ryan. And then I look at Kate whose eyes are literally pleading with me not to challenge this.

  “Sure, I’ll go,” I tell him. “I love New York in the springtime,” I sing at him, and he rolls his eyes at
me. And then it hits me. This is the first week I haven’t spoken to Kyle on the phone since Kate and Ryan’s wedding, and suddenly Ryan is asking me to go to New York and have dinner with him.

  None of this adds up to anything good.

  Now I’m scared. Which pisses me off, if I’m being honest. I don’t like being set up like this.

  I leave Kate and Ryan’s shortly after that. They need time to themselves and I need time to think about what Ryan said about Kyle.

  He’s not freaking lonely. No goddamn way. And never in a million years, would Ryan ask me to hang out with his little brother if he was. So just what the hell is going on that I don’t know about?

  Whatever it is, it’s keeping me from falling asleep.

  In fact, it’s a little after midnight now and I’m restless.

  I’ve replayed our last phone conversation no less than a dozen times in the few hours since I went to bed. I like Kyle. A lot. So much so that I don’t think about it. He’s fun and smart and seems to get me without judgment. He never tried to have sex with me, even if we did only hang out for one night. All positives in my book.

  Most men aren’t like that with me.

  They see me as a challenge. Some sort of redheaded conquest, like they’re the one who will reel me in and show me just what I’ve been missing all this time. Like all I’m really looking for from them is to be saved.

  I’m not.

  So, the notion that Kyle’s been dealing with some sort of issue upsets me tremendously. To the point where I’ve been debating calling him in the middle of the night. To the point where I’m tossing and turning in my bed with no one else on my mind but him. I haven’t had a guy occupy my thoughts like this . . . well, since college, I guess. Even then, it was never to this extent.

  But Kyle is my friend, so it’s different.

  I know I’m not going to be able to sleep unless I call him, so I do the selfish thing and hit his number in my phone. Even if it is three in the morning there.

 

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