by Taryn Quinn
All at once, Sage’s commentary on the plane to Vegas about my lack of friends turned into an anvil in my brain. Mostly because she was right.
“And you think he’s so desperate for friends that even I will do?”
“No. I think you both could use a break. Ally is watching Wes and Laurie and the baby, so we can all go out and have a good time, so you know, don’t be a dick.”
“I don’t even know this guy. I highly doubt he’d care if I went.”
“No,” Seth agreed. “But I’d care. How long has it been since we’ve hung out?”
Guilt immediately tried to worm its way into my chest. “I’ve been over to the house almost every night lately.”
“To see the baby, which is great, but it’s not the same and you know it. We used to be best friends.”
“Not since high school when you abandoned me for Alison.”
“Back to that again. And I didn’t ‘abandon’ you for her. I didn’t even know her yet when I switched schools.”
“Semantics. Fine. I’ll go to your little boys’ night out. But don’t think you’re going to pry any information out of me.” I pointed at him. “Unlike how you behaved during your breakup last spring with Ally, I don’t feel the need to go to confession about my sins.”
He rose off the desk and crossed the room. “Not quite how I remember it, but whatever. Keep your delusions.” Halfway out the door, he stopped and craned his neck. “Oh, and lose the suit tonight. The guys at The Spinning Wheel always rip you a new one behind your back when you show up in your three-piece penguin outfits and drink iced tea.”
I flipped him the bird and bent to retrieve my dragon from the floor. Maybe the jerk was right. Along with manning up and figuring out how to woo Sage properly, I needed to break out of my comfort zone. Buy some jeans that didn’t still have the department store creases in them, as Sage loved to tease. Loosen up a little. Drink and play pool. Go for broke in more ways than one.
It had been so long since I’d partied. If it hadn’t been for those few years at college, I definitely wouldn’t have ended up with all my tats. Unless pinstripes were a new popular style in ink.
“Yeah, yeah. See you later.”
“Swing by the house around eight. I’m DD tonight.”
I arched a brow. “As if I’ll drink to the point of inebriation.”
“You might be surprised. See ya.”
Once he’d left, I stared at the dragon. Rather than shelving it with all the rest of the creatures, I wrote a short note on the flaps I could open easily without starting from scratch. Then I finished the piece, let Shelly know I was leaving, and headed out into the overcast afternoon. The scent of snow hung in the air, reminding me of the night Sage had told me about the baby.
What didn’t remind me? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Clutching the dragon like a kid with a damn balloon, I crossed the street and dropped it off at Sage’s mailbox at the loft before retrieving my car and driving to the mall.
Voluntarily. On a Friday evening. God help me.
Despite its name, I doubted Trend Zone, with its pink neon lights in the windows, was the place for cutting-edge clothes, but a guy had to start somewhere. I grabbed a couple of pairs of ripped jeans and a few shirts sans buttons and threw them on the counter, so annoyed with the whole process that I couldn’t communicate in anything other than grunts.
What the hell was wrong with my suits anyway? I never bought off the rack. Ever.
First time for freaking everything.
I drove home, slowing down as I passed Sage’s loft like a weirdo creeper, hoping to get a glimpse. At least it was on my usual route home, so it wasn’t as if I was making a special trip.
When would she begin to show? I couldn’t remember when Ally had, and even less about Marjorie. Probably not for a few months at least. I was surprisingly eager. I hadn’t planned on any of this happening, but now that it had, I was ready for the rest of my life to begin.
I just had to figure out how to bridge the gap from where I was to where I wanted to go. And who I wanted to be with.
On impulse, I swerved the car to the curb and pried another of my origami animals out of the glove box. I’d done so many of them recently that I’d even stowed a couple in my car. I reached for a fox and took it apart enough to write another quick note on a couple of the panels. After I refolded it, I rolled down my window and motioned to one of the Flanders’s kids walking his dog, Muffin.
“Hey John, mind doing me a favor?” I whipped out my wallet. “There’s a twenty in it for you.”
He couldn’t jog over to the car fast enough. “Sure, Oliver. What do you need?”
I asked him to deliver my fox to Sage’s mailbox and he gave me an odd look, but he did it and happily pocketed his twenty. Muffin would be eating handsomely tonight.
The rest of my drive home took longer than usual, thanks to the promised snow finally arriving and making a mess of the roads. But we didn’t get enough for a snow emergency, alas, and by eight-thirty, Seth, Dare, and I were pulling into The Spinning Wheel’s back parking lot. Conversation had been stilted on the way over. I got the feeling Dare hadn’t been informed Seth’s brother was tagging along, and even my ripped jeans hadn’t identified me as one of his brethren.
Ripped jeans, for Christ’s sake. Seth had nearly choked with laughter. Still, it wasn’t enough.
We walked in, and Seth and his friend were immediately greeted as if everyone in the place had missed them. Dare too, who supposedly knew no one. I got a few side-eyes, a few chuckles, and a couple variations of “You lost, Oliver?”
I sat at our booth in the back near the pool tables and ordered a Guinness. When I finished that one, I ordered two more. Unsurprisingly, by the end of the third beer, my pensive thoughts about Sage had taken center stage and I’d forgotten all about how much I did not fit in.
“The hardest thing about moving to a new town is meeting women.”
I didn’t look up at Dare’s remark. Normally, I would assume my brother had encouraged that line of conversation to bait me into talking. Now? I was enjoying the foam on beer number four.
Why didn’t I drink more often? It definitely eased the tension in my shoulders. Made laughing so much more natural.
Oh yes, because drinking loosened my lips far too much.
“Women are all trouble. New ones, old ones.” I took a long drink. “All trouble.”
One thing drinking did not do for me? Make my style of speech more eloquent.
“Guessing that means you’re single? Or better yet, got an ex-wife somewhere? Ex-girlfriend?” Dare saluted me with his beer. “Been there. My son’s mother split when he was two. Left me a note that she couldn’t ‘hang’ anymore and was tired of not having enough money.”
Seth clucked understandingly. “Different situation, but yeah. Mine didn’t care about our kid either. Won’t even talk about my mother. Christ.”
“If they don’t want the kids, you’re better off if they leave. The worst thing for a child is growing up feeling unwanted. Our mother stayed around far too long.”
“Well, there’s a cheerful thought.” Seth pried his lemon out of his soda. “Guess it was too much to hope that drinking would improve your mood, not sour it.”
“My mood is fine. Just saying it’s better if someone makes a choice and stands by it. Half-measures are far worse.” I tipped back my glass.
Guinness number five would probably be excessive. I wasn’t drinking solely to get drunk after all.
Liar, liar, ripped jeans on fire.
“Yeah, you’re right there.” Dare spun his bottle. “So, what’s your story, man? I know this one is happily wedded and new baby and all, but I don’t know much about you.”
“I’m single.”
“Never married? No kids?”
Ah, fuck it. I didn’t want to be single. So, I should name it and claim it and whatever the hell Oprah said on that show I had never watched.
“I haven’t been
married, but I’m trying to be.”
Seth raised his eyebrows at that one. “Say what?”
“It’s not as easy for some of us as it was for you.” I ripped my napkin in two to give myself something to do. My ears were hot, though that could’ve been from the alcohol.
“Since when are you trying to get married? And how does one try anyway? You just propose and if the chick says yes, awesome.”
“I forgot the proposing part.”
My brother stared at me for what felt like a full minute while the low buzz of voices in the bar stabbed at my brain. “You did what? Who did you not propose to?”
“For fuck’s sake, you know who.”
“Sage?” Seth flattened his hands on the table and leaned forward. “Sage Evans? Good Christ, did you stumble into an Elvis chapel or something in Vegas and lose your mind?”
“Vegas.” I snapped my fingers. “That’s it! You’re a goddamn genius.”
“You need to stop drinking. I don’t think it’s healthy for you.” He reached for my beer and I snatched his hand, giving it a big smacking kiss.
Seth did not speak, just glanced at Dare with his eyebrows still raised.
Me? I was grinning like a damn idiot. I’d totally forgotten about Vegas. Well, not forgotten, but I hadn’t considered it a viable option.
It wasn’t now. Not yet. Sage and I were too new and proposing now—no matter how romantic—would just seem like I was changing my approach and trying to prod her to the altar asap for appearances’ sake. We might never reach the point of marriage. And I didn’t fucking care.
I wanted to be with her and my baby. If it meant we’d get married someday, awesome. If not, I’d still get to be with them, and that was what I wanted.
All I wanted.
Me, the guy who always had plans and needed to see the end of the road ahead, was looking at one big bend, and I was okay with getting there in due time.
I picked up my almost empty beer and grinned. Maybe I needed to drink more often.
Dare shifted toward me, edging into my view. “You okay, man? Maybe Seth is right. I don’t think I know this Sage person, but women can screw with our heads, and drinking doesn’t help. You see things much fuzzier when you’ve got a helluva lot of liquor in you.”
“Oh, no. I’m seeing clearer than I ever have.”
“You want to marry Sage. You? The guy who plotted who to invite to the ninth-grade winter formal at prep school for the entire first three months of school. There were lists with pros and cons.”
I nodded vigorously. “It caught me by surprise too, but I love her.” Saying the words was like unlocking a set of plates inside my chest and everything started spilling forth.
Far too much, in retrospect.
“At first, I figured it was just sex. She’s hot, right?” I didn’t wait for his confirmation. I didn’t truly care what he thought. Anyone with eyes could see Sage was freaking gorgeous. “Not just that, she’s so much fun to be with. She makes me laugh.”
“When she isn’t trying to kill you?”
I shrugged. “Flesh wounds mostly. We like arguing. Besides, making up is the best.”
“You didn’t fall when you were in Vegas, did you? Hit your head?” When I didn’t respond, he just held up a hand. “Look, I know I’m not being supportive, but I feel like I missed a hundred steps. When does Oliver Hamilton fall in love with someone in a month?”
“It isn’t just the last month. I think I’ve been falling in love with her since we met.”
Dare grinned. “Yeah, he’s a goner, Seth. Get the morgue cart. Dude is DOA.”
Ignoring him, I gripped my beer, letting the cold from the glass seep into my skin. The more I spoke, the hotter I was getting. It was as if figuring all this out had melted all the ice inside me and now I couldn’t shut the hell up. “Every dumb argument, every time we poked and prodded each other, every bit of snark…they were all just leading us to Vegas. That was the start of everything. It’s not even about the baby. That’s just the icing on top.”
Seth had picked up his drink—and now started to choke. Dare thumped him on the back, but my brother continued to stare at me, eyes watering. “Baby?”
“So, your wife did keep the secret.” I let out a low whistle. “Impressive. And here I thought marital law always came before bestie-ism.”
“Ally knew?” He held up a finger. “Also, I’m Ally’s first best friend, not Sage.” More coughing. “Technically, that means she owes me all secrets.”
Dare thumped Seth’s back again. “You’re gonna rupture something. Chill.”
“You don’t get it. Oliver doesn’t do this shit. This is all Seth-level stuff.”
I had to laugh, toasting him with my almost-empty glass before taking a drink. “Twin thing. You know it always kicks in eventually.”
Perhaps the getting-back-my-woman part would kick in soon too.
A guy could hope.
19
Sage
My week had a been a mixed bag, to say the least. So, to recap, I decided to pull an Oliver and weigh the bad with the good.
Pro: I’d found out I was going to have a baby.
Con: Timing el crapola.
Pro: I’d made dinner plans with a new friend, Kelsey.
Con: She’d suggested eating at The Spinning Wheel, a restaurant slash bar, and I could not drink.
Pro: I’d been given my first piece of lovely jewelry by a suitor.
Con: We’d immediately broken up afterward, without ever actually being an official couple, despite the very official child cooking inside me.
Net result? A lot of longing looks at Kelsey’s daiquiri.
“So, let me get this straight.” Kelsey plopped the little pink umbrella back in her half-empty drink and propped her chin on her hand. “This handsome, smart, funny man who is gainfully employed and also happens to have a large penis and the ambition to know how to use it correctly—along with his tongue and his fingers—planted a baby in you on the first try, and then had the audacity to insist you get married right away and also told you to stop working, because it was your dream to stay home with your child. Am I missing anything?”
“I don’t know if you are, but I’m impressed how you didn’t have to stop to take a breath. That was one hella long question.” I sipped my own virgin pink drink and considered the question more fully. “I’m guessing you’re not seeing the subtextual issues.”
“Subtextual issues? Girl, if a hot guy wanted me to put my feet up so I could churn out babies, well, I’d give it the old college try. I do have birthing hips.” She patted hers with a grin. “At least that’s what my mama used to say.”
“Ow. Ouch.”
“Nah, it was a compliment from her. She absolutely loved being a mother and wanted me to have the same experience. Little did she know, I drive away men as soon as I open my mouth.”
“I’ve done my share of that too. Over and over again. I thought it was hopeless that I’d ever find someone who got me as I was and vice versa. But Oliver’s different. We know each other so well. Probably why we bicker so much.”
“You like bickering. So, it’s good you found someone to match you.”
“It is. Am I asking for too much? I know him, Kelsey. I know his limitations and mine, and maybe I just can’t expect more from him. This is all so new between us, and he’s trying, he really is. He gave me this necklace. Isn’t it beautiful?” I held it out for her inspection and she let out a little wistful sigh.
“If you decide you can’t deal with his assholish behavior anymore, can I take a turn, or would that be a friendship killer?” I growled, and she laughed. “Just kidding. I don’t poach. But that’s so pretty.”
“There’s more.” Swallowing hard, I picked up my purse and tugged out the origami animals I’d found in my mailbox. I’d pried them apart so carefully, desperate to see what he might have written inside.
It had been days since we’d talked—okay, fought, yet again—and I missed him so much.
It was insane. When had arguing with Oliver…and sleeping with him…and hearing his laughter…and holding his hand…become such a vital, integral part of my day?
My entire life?
“Oh,” Kelsey murmured as I carefully nudged the origami creatures across the table. “Those are—what’s it called?”
“Origami.”
“What are these for? You do these?” She picked up the dragon far too recklessly, and I had to bite my lip to keep from admonishing her about crinkling the paper.
“No. He does. Oliver does, for me.”
I swear, she melted in front of me like a bar of chocolate on a hot summer day. “You’re serious?”
“Yes.”
“That’s possibly the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. And you let this man get away?”
“I just got those today. He gave me one before when he came into the diner for lunch. I think it was an offhanded thing he used to do and never realized that I’d fall in love with it.”
“You’re not in love with his origami. You’re in love with him.”
“The origami is pretty persuasive,” I said in a small voice, letting out a little screech when she bent the dragon’s wing the wrong way. “Here, let me. You have to be very careful.”
She waited while I retrieved the dragon and the fox and opened them painstakingly, barely breathing during the process. It had taken me many attempts to do this correctly. That was why I’d only had a few minutes to get ready to meet Kelsey. I’d been too busy folding and refolding my precious animals to even break for dinner.
Who had I become? Usually, I never let anything come between me and my meals. And I was pregnant, which added an extra layer of food savagery.
“He writes notes inside too? Oh my. What do they say?”
“They’re short. The flaps don’t allow much room. But in the dragon, he asked me out.”
“Asked you out where?”
“Nowhere in particular. Just ‘Sage Evans, will you go out with me?’” My voice stayed even, a minor feat.