by Mignon Mykel
“I didn’t put it down my boxers. Relax, man.” I shook my head, grinning. I was stacking glasses when Brenna came barreling into the bar from the swinging kitchen door.
“Oh my God, you’ll never guess who I ran into last night!”
I looked over my shoulder at my twenty-five year old baby sister. Her black hair matched my own, but had the same waves Rory’s did, although hers was much longer.
“Oh, please do tell,” I said dryly. Whether Rory or I wanted to hear, Brenna would tell. She probably ran into one of her ex’s that was a douche, that Rory or I took care of. Something or someone like that.
“Mia Hampton.”
I moved to grab another pallet of glasses and glanced at Brenna. “Mia Hampton?” Remembering the phone in my pants, I took it out and put it in my back pocket. Brenna caught the act and frowned a moment before continuing her story.
“You know. Curly Mia from elementary school? My best friend up until the fifth grade? She spent every freaking day at our house.”
Rory chuckled. “Oh yeah. Fat Mia.”
“Rory!” Brenna’s brows were raised. “She wasn’t fat. Don’t be a dick.”
“She was kind of pudgy,” I said under my breath, remembering the round girl with the unkempt hair.
“You two are asses.” Brenna crossed her arms. “Anyway, I saw her at the mall. Get this. Coming out of a maternity store.” I fought from rolling my eyes. Didn’t she have girlfriends she could talk to about this? “She’s gotta be like…six months pregnant. I asked about her husband and she doesn’t have one. Said the baby was an accident but she looked so happy. God! Remember how everyone thought I was the bad egg between the two of us? Shit. Who’d have thought she’d get knocked up on accident…before I did.” Brenna stumbled on the last of her words and while that was concerning, I didn’t question it.
“Great?” I didn’t really care who was pregnant or that pudgy Mia from fifteen years ago was without a man and with a child. I wasn’t about to call Brenna out on spreading stories though. She knew what harm could come from them and I didn’t really want to see her bright eyes dim at the reminder.
“Anyway, I invited her out to dinner tonight.”
I paused and looked at her. “Tonight’s your birthday dinner.”
She nodded, grinning.
I scratched above my eyebrow, slightly exasperated with her. “Why would you invite her to a dinner you were having with your brothers? Go do lunch with her instead. It’s not like you work here.”
“I do too work here, asshole.” Brenna uncrossed her arms. “She just looked kind of lonely. Happy, yeah, but lonely, and I thought it would be nice for her to meet up with everyone again.”
I shook my head. My sister was so softhearted sometimes.
Rory shrugged a shoulder as he faced the liquors on the back shelf. “So we do dinner with pudgy Mia—”
“Don’t call her that!”
Rory continued, ignoring Brenna. “It’s just one night, Con. Make nice, you asshole.”
I couldn’t help but feel like Brenna was setting one of us up with Mia. Rory, the Pokémon Go player, certainly wasn’t up to dating a woman who was knocked up, and me? Fuck that shit.
“She’s actually really pretty,” Brenna added, her brows up and a sly grin on her face. And that fucking look was aimed at me.
Yep, totally trying to set me up.
I pointed at her. “Do not.”
She feigned innocence and lifted her hands in the air. “I’m not doing anything, Con!”
“I like my life.”
“I know!” She put her hands down. “I just thought maybe if you saw her again, you would maybe think twice about all the hoes in your life.” She grinned at me. “Besides, I miss having her in my life. She was a good friend.”
“You were fucking ten.”
“Hey! That’s a pretty impressionable time in a young girl’s life!”
“She ditched you.”
“Yep, she totally did,” Rory added, as if he were actually a part of this tennis match and not an onlooker. Speaking of, the fucker wasn’t working.
“Rory. Do something with the bar.” Then to Brenna, “I don’t do relationships, Bren. You know that. I’ll make nice at dinner, but don’t expect anything more.”
The answering look on Brenna’s face…
I didn’t want to know what she had up her sleeve.
And quite frankly, at the moment I didn’t care. I had a bar to run.
Mia
Living in the town I grew up in had its moments.
Moments where I wished I’d chosen a teaching job anywhere else.
Unfortunately, of the schools I was offered a job at, the neighboring town of Imperial Beach, where I spent much of my youth, had the better program. As such, I taught second grade at an elementary school I went to, and often ran into old classmates at the grocery store.
Or ex-best friends at the mall. Namely, an ex-best friend whose brother put this big old basketball in this tummy of mine.
You know. People like that.
When Brenna asked about my husband, I froze. When she rephrased to ask about the “baby daddy,” I stumbled and looked at my feet. I wasn’t about to tell her my baby’s daddy was her older brother. I hadn’t even had the nerve to walk into the bar to tell him; I sure wasn’t going to tell his sister first.
But somehow I found myself doing just that, as I cried over an iced tea in the food court. I didn’t know why Brenna was being so nice to me, but she was extremely easy to talk to and there I was, blubbering at her like a freaking fool.
“Conor? My Conor?” she had asked.
I nodded and told her how he didn’t know who I was, and how it was just a one-night thing. How I never intended on seeing him again but after my irregular period was nearing three months late, I took the test and my stomach had dropped. What were the freaking odds I’d get pregnant my first time, and for Plan B failing too? It was as if the Gods were laughing at me, making an example out of the good girl who did one naughty thing.
Brenna simply hugged me and went on and on about how she and I could finally be close again. About how she was going to help me break the news to her brother. About how she and I could discuss it over dinner tomorrow night.
I was extremely thrown by this bombardment from Brenna but needing a friend, I took her up on her offer.
I had gone home and tried to find an outfit that didn’t make me feel like a whale. Now wearing it, I found myself at a cute Italian restaurant just outside of town.
I sat by the front door, nervously chewing on my lip as I waited for Brenna to show. She told me to meet her just outside the door and text her the moment I arrived.
I held my clutch in front of me, nervous energy running through me. I was still a bit put off by the whole running into Brenna and her wanting to be my friend after fifteen years thing, but I would get past it.
The doors swung open and out walked Brenna in her raven-haired glory. It really was unfair that she’d been beautiful as a pre-teen and was even more gorgeous as an adult. What happened to that adage of the pretty ones turning out to be the ugliest after school was over?
“Come on in. I have a table already.” Brenna smiled and held the door for me, allowing me to step into the restaurant before she moved in front to weave the way to the table.
I should have followed my gut when I felt the telltale signs of something being wrong the moment I left the mall—and Brenna—yesterday.
Because just a few tables away, a few feet in front of Brenna, was Conor.
I stopped dead in my tracks and, whether it was hormones or just me, felt tears build up behind my eyes. I was so fucking naïve.
Of course she didn’t want to be my friend. She stopped wanting to be my friend in middle school when I was too fat to hang out with her. When she was getting all the attention from boys and I was in the middle of my extremely long awkward phase.
Was her inviting me tonight her being facetious? Was she being rude
and wanting to point fingers at me? What the hell was her goal?
The buzzing in my head didn’t allow for me to hear Brenna address the table but the moment Conor’s eyes met mine across the short distance, my stomach truly dropped to the floor, my clutch following shortly after.
With a red face and burning eyes, I knelt down the best I could with my slightly protruding belly, and picked up my clutch. I stood as gracefully as I could in the black pants and flowy shirt that did not hide the evidence underneath and, with a swallow, made myself face Conor.
Made myself face the father of my child.
Conor
The after game crowd had been a bit of a riot at O’Gallaghers, but Rory and I managed to slip out in time to make it to dinner with Brenna. Stone was manning the bar for me, and I had full trust in the man.
Never mind the fact it was Sunday, and we would only be open for another hour or so.
As soon as we made it to our table for our seven o’clock reservations, Brenna excused herself to go meet Mia.
I should have figured there was more to Brenna’s excitement than her simply running into an old friend who was pregnant.
Because when Brenna came back, big-ass grin on her face, with Mia behind her…
My stomach fucking dropped.
Mia was Curly Locks.
Curly Locks was Mia.
The chick I fucked, the only virgin I fucked, nearly half a fucking year ago, was pregnant.
I would like to think that my sexual prowess persuaded Curly—Mia—to go get laid more often, that there was no fucking way in hell that that baby bump had anything to do with me, but I wasn’t stupid.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I hardcore stared at her. She looked the same as all those nights ago, except for the obvious being pregnant. That and her curly mass of hair was down, a small top section pulled back with everything else falling just past her shoulders.
I was so fucking torn. Mia was goddamn hot and I can’t say I ever found a pregnant woman sexy before. But putting my cock aside, she had known who the hell I was and still fucked me.
How the hell didn’t she tell me who she was? So not only did I fuck a virgin, but I fucked a girl who used to follow me around like a sick puppy dog, up until she and my sister had a falling out.
The real kicker though, the one that got me in the balls, was just like she hadn’t found it important to tell me her name, she hadn’t found it important to tell me I knocked her up.
Mia’s eyes met mine across the tables and I watched as her face went from bright red to fucking pale as a ghost, no doubt in response to the fire in my eyes. That’s right, bitch. I’m pissed.
“Brenna,” I growled low. I wasn’t about to make a scene in this fancy-assed restaurant, but I needed a word with my sister. Brenna’s grin faltered and the light went out from her eyes. I had a fleeting thought that maybe she wasn’t being cruel in this meeting.
But then again, this was the girl who left my baby sister to fend for herself when the adolescent years started to get tough.
She shot a small smile over her shoulder at Mia before walking over to where I still sat at the table. Her brows pulled low, the growl in her whispered voice matched my earlier one as she leaned down, her face in mine. “You will fucking make nice, Conor O’Gallagher.”
“I love you, and it’s your birthday, but I am not dealing with that,” I pointedly glared toward Mia, who was still clutching her wallet in front of her, “at your dinner. I trust you have her phone number, so send her away and I’ll deal with her later.”
I couldn’t believe that Curly Locks was Mia. No shit her eyes had looked familiar. I’d seen them nearly every day from when she and Brenna were three until they were ten.
“I’m not sending her away!” Brenna whisper yelled at me.
“What the fuck game are you playing?” I glanced over when I noticed Rory stand and watched as he walked over to Mia, no doubt to make small talk for both her and his own sanity. Probably was bored being out of the loop.
It didn’t explain the tightening in my chest or the red in my eye when Mia smiled at Rory and hugged him. What the fuck was that about?
“I’m not playing a game. You did this, Conor, you did.” Brenna poked her finger into my chest. “You will make nice and you will make this right.”
“She didn’t even fucking tell me her name.”
Brenna lifted a brow, standing straight and crossing her arms over her chest. “How many names do you usually take when you bring one of your ‘hoes upstairs, Conor? She was just another and you knocked her up.”
Again, that fucking tightening in my chest when Brenna essentially called Mia my whore.
What the actual fuck? I rubbed my chest, but did it where Brenna had jabbed her finger into my sternum.
“Why are you being nice to her, Bren?” I looked around quickly.
Surely we were making a scene with two of us arguing over hushed words, and two others awkwardly having a conversation. “She abandoned you. At fucking ten years old, Brenna! She should mean nothing to you.”
Brenna’s face morphed into one of almost sadness as she shrugged, her brows lifted. “Maybe I was the one to abandon her. And I don’t want to do it again. We may not have been friends, but I always knew she wasn’t one to spread the rumors.”
I stared at my sister, heated anger still coursing through my body, before shaking my head. “It’s your dinner. Whatever.” I wasn’t going to win this. My fault or not, Mia had known who I was. She also had known where to fucking find me and chose not to.
I shook my head yet again, turning my attention back to the empty table, and tossed my napkin in my lap roughly. Brenna sat beside me and once she and I were seated, Rory and Mia walked over. Rory, showing off his fucking cocky side, held out the chair for Mia and she sat slowly across the table from me, her eyes glued to the table cloth.
I kept my eyes on Mia. I had so many things to say, cruel words, fucked up words, but also questions. Curious questions. Rory sat down beside her and reached for the wine menu.
“This calls for something strong.” Rory flipped open the small booklet and started to scan, as if the kid knew a damn thing about a good wine.
Still, my eyes were on Mia. She kept her hands in her lap, gripping her wallet still, I assumed, her eyes remaining on the table. I watched as she started to lift them, stopping where the table met my stomach, and her eyes cut over toward Brenna.
Mia shook her head and swallowed roughly. “I can’t do this.” Her voice was strangled.
Brenna reached across the table, holding her palm up. “Mia. You two need to talk. I know my brother, and this is going to be the least hostile place for you two.”
“Yeah. Besides, it’s totally Con’s fault you’re in this predicament anyway so let him deal with the stares,” Rory offered.
I frowned at him. “Thanks.”
Rory grinned and winked. “No prob, bro.”
Mia glanced at Brenna’s hand finally and she started to lift her own from her clutch. Quickly though, I watched as her face went from slightly red in embarrassment to blanched, to a really fucking concerning shade of green. Rather than reach for Brenna’s hand, Mia brought the back of her hand up to her mouth and with wide eyes, shook her head. “I’m going to be sick.”
She stood from the table quickly and I could hear as her clutch fell to the floor again. She looked around the area quickly, looking for the bathroom I would assume, and left the table in a hurry. I sat in my chair but turned to watch over my shoulder. I saw as she stumbled when someone pushed their chair out to stand, but she recovered and continued her trek.
Brenna took my shoulder and forced me to turn back to the table.
“She’s twenty-four weeks pregnant and she’s under the illusion that it’s yours. And after the story she told me, I have to say I believe her,” Brenna said, her voice in that low, dangerous tone again. She was pissed at me.
“She didn’t tell me who she was,” I repeate
d.
“That doesn’t fucking matter, Con!” Her voice was low enough still to not carry, but it certainly felt like she yelled it. “She’s pregnant and she’s alone, and she’s obviously scared of you! Did you see the way she looked at you? What the hell did you do? Tie her up against her will? Slap her around?”
Rory, the bastard, looked ready to laugh as he settled into his chair, arms crossed over his chest.
“I may have raised my voice when I learned she was a virgin.”
“A…?” Brenna frowned. “She was a twenty-five year old virgin? No way. She’s too pretty and too confident.”
“She was a fucking virgin.” I squeezed the bridge of my nose between my finger and thumb.
Rory still looked smug, but he turned his chin some and an inquisitive look crossed his face. “You ever get anyone pregnant before, Con? I mean, you do have quite the active sex life.” As if he had room to fucking talk.
Brenna put her fingers to her ears. “Lalala, I don’t wanna hear it!”
I frowned at Brenna but then turned back to Rory. “Not that I know of, no.” I pulled Brenna’s finger from her ear and said loudly enough in her direction, but not so loud the entire restaurant would hear. “The condom broke when I was in her tight pussy.”
“You’re such a pig,” Brenna muttered before I turned back to Rory.
“I’ve only broken a condom maybe two other times and I’ve seen those chicks getting plastered afterward, so I’m going to go with no.”
“Well, congrats, Daddy,” Rory said with a shit-eating grin. Bastard.
Brenna looked over her shoulder to where Mia disappeared to. “I’m going to go check on her.”
I stood before Brenna could. “I’ll do it.”
She and I needed to have words.
In private.
Mia
Thank God I made it to the bathroom in time. I didn’t bother locking the door to the single person bathroom, only caring to dive for the toilet before what was sure to be only stomach acid came up and out of my mouth.