by Max Monroe
“How did you meet all of these people exactly?” I ask quietly with a grin, while the rest of the room continues to erupt in all sorts of verbal chaos. Which, oddly enough, I’m finding enjoyable. To be honest, I’m surprised at just how much I love Harrison’s friends’ brand of fun and crazy. I can’t remember the last time I laughed this much. If ever.
“Different places,” he answers, his voice low enough to only reach my ears. “I work for Cap’s father’s company, and I used to play rugby with Kline, Thatch, and Wes. The others have joined the group in one way or another over the last few years, and we’ve gotten close more recently.” He shrugs. “We ended up having a book club not long ago too, but that’s a long and complicated hostage story.”
I bug out my eyes. “Interesting.”
“Oh, it is. But it’s a story for another time. What about you? I haven’t met any of your friends since I’ve been out in California with you. Who do you hang out with?”
I wish I had a better answer to that question than I do, but I don’t.
“I don’t really have friends, I guess.” I shrug. “Coworkers, but they come and go. Just my team. They’ve been the only constants in my life since my brother left town.”
Harrison frowns.
“What?” I ask.
“It’s just…what a horrible set of constants.”
I sigh. “They’re not that bad.” I lift one shoulder and laugh a little. “At least, not all the time.”
“But really, Officer, he only hits me sometimes,” Harrison deadpans, and I roll my eyes.
“I’m not an abuse victim. I hardly think it’d make sense to pay my abusers to hang around.”
Harrison lifts his eyebrows meaningfully. “Exactly.”
“Can we change the subject, please?” I beg, done trying to explain my life’s choices for the night. I’ve been having way too much fun to spoil it now.
“Of course. Sorry.”
“It’s all right. I just…I just want to spend the rest of the night getting to know your friends.”
“No problem there, little lady,” Thatch says from above us, surprising me completely. For such a huge guy, he moves like a freaking mouse. “We’ve taken a vote, and the men have decided to steal you away for a little bit.”
Harrison starts shaking his head before Thatch even finishes his sentence.
“I don’t think that’s—”
“Relax, buddy, it’s happening. And you are going to have a little tea party with the ladies.”
“What?”
“It’s all set. The girls are waiting for you in the theater room.”
Harrison’s eyes widen as Thatch reaches out a hand to help me up. “Come on, Miss Raquel. We’re meeting in the smoke room—no smoke, of course. It’s a sacred room as the official meeting place of Thatch’s Book Club.”
Harrison rolls his eyes. “Still not your book club, Thatch.”
“And you’re still not a billionaire. Seems we all have our shortcomings, Harry.”
Harrison looks to me with uncertain eyes. As much as the idea of being in a room with all of these wild men seems intimidating, it also seems like a one-in-a-million opportunity and a lot of fun to boot.
Clearly, though, Harrison isn’t going to let me do it without a little reassurance.
I reach out and grab his hand with my own, squeezing tight on his fingers when he holds it back. “Go on. Go gossip with the girls, and I’ll get to know the guys. I promise I’ll be fine.”
At least, I think I’ll be fine.
Honestly, the way Thatch is smiling down at me right now with a giant, Cheshire-cat smile etched across his face is making me feel a tad bit worried about what I’m getting myself into…
Harrison
Rocky saying she’ll be fine with my crazy group of guy friends is like me saying I’m excited when Cap calls me in the middle of the day to demand stock tips.
But what can I do? She appears cool with getting to know them better, and well, my idiot friends are damn near chomping at the bit to get her by herself to ask and tell her God knows what.
“Yeah, buddy,” Thatch coos. “We’ll take great care of her.”
See what I mean?
I roll my eyes, but as Rocky starts to stand, I turn my attention to helping her up, knocking Thatch out of the way so I can be the bearer of responsibility.
She still does pretty well considering all the extra weight she’s carrying, but I know for a fact it’s not as easy as she’s making it look. I’m stuck under the load of my big, fake belly.
Once up, she heads for the smoke room at the gallant direction of Thatch, while Cap waits with a big fat smile at the doorway down the hall. I’m not very threatening from the floor, so I wait for Thatch to give me a hand up before getting in his face.
“If you do anything to mess with her, I swear to God—”
“Relax, bro. We’re gonna be on our best behavior. Consider me the motherfluffing behavior police.”
I scoff. “You? That really inspires my faith.”
“I know when to get serious, dude, and I’m serious now. I will lay down my life for your pregnant girl in there if I have to. That said, you know in your heart I won’t need to. You don’t hang out with a bunch of losers. In fact, you very wisely leveled up when you chose the circle to keep around you. They say to hang out with people who are better than you, and you’ve really done a great job.”
I snort. “Thanks.”
“Now, go commune with my woman. Just…watch your nuts.”
I let my head fall back, resigned. “Fucking hell.”
Thatch winks, following it up with a deep, manly giggle as he trots down the hall to lock himself in a room with my…well, with Rocky.
I guess, despite her carrying my baby in her belly, she’s not really my anything.
The thought spurs an ache in my chest, but I rub against it with a rough hand and walk toward the theater room to meet my uncertain fate.
Lord knows being stuck in a room with Thatch’s crazy wife Cassie comes with no safety guarantees.
Who knows? Maybe they’ll just want to watch a chick flick or something?
I mentally try to give myself hope, but the instant I step inside the large, spacious room and find the screen completely black, all hope is lost.
With cautious eyes, I take a seat on a pillow in the center of a very large group of staring women and hold my fresh bottle of beer in my lap with slightly shaking hands.
They look at me eagerly, waiting for me to make the first declaration of some sort, and I’ve honestly never been more frightened in my life.
I look from one to the next slowly until I’ve met all eight pairs of their eyes. “Wow. There sure are a lot of you now, huh?”
Apparently, saying something at all puts the court in session, and I have no authority whatsoever.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Lena says. “Let’s get to the good stuff. How in the baby Jesus hell did you get Raquel Weaver pregnant?”
The rest of the group goes up in a flurry of noise and agreement, and I feel a strong mix of both understanding and offense.
Cassie notices my face first and reaches out to tweak the wrinkle between my eyebrows. “Geez, Harry. Don’t get all offended. We’re just saying… I mean, she’s a huge celebrity with a track record of celibacy. This is a big deal.”
“And isn’t she dating that Ben Huddleson guy?” Emory interjects. “I just saw her walking some red carpet with him.”
I open my mouth to explain, but Georgie beats me to it. “He’s probably just a beard. They’re always doing crazy shit like that in Hollywood, right? Tell me I’m right.”
I open my mouth to confirm but am cut off by yet another woman.
“No freaking way. They’d really pretend some other guy was the father of the baby?” Winnie asks. “Why? What’s wrong with Harrison?”
“He doesn’t have the A-list factor,” Lena explains. “I know from the fashion world…it is a veritable jungle out there.”
There’s an unnatural pause in their chatter, and they all look to me expectantly. Unfortunately, I now have little to no idea what I’m actually supposed to do or say.
“Um, yes,” I try, and Maybe’s eyebrows draw together.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes to what you said, I think.”
“Which part?” Emory asks. I shrug.
“You’re saying that they’re faking her relationship with Ben, correct?” Georgia finally clarifies. I nod fervently.
They all chatter in an explosion again, and instantly, I feel like that’s something I probably shouldn’t have said. Fuck, these women must hold some kind of black magic power. Two minutes in here with them and I’m spilling all the fucking Hollywood beans.
I try to tell them the Douchebag Huddleson detail is one that needs to be kept under wraps, but they’re too lost in their own side conversations to even listen. By the time the mayhem settles, I’m covering my head for protection and offering up prayers to God that I make it out of this room without an injury courtesy of Cassie—the loudest one in the room.
Before my fight-or-flight—aka curl into the fetal position or run—responses can kick in, Georgia pulls my hands away, and immediately, the advice starts.
“Be there for her, even if she tries to push you away.”
“When she tries to push you away,” Winnie stresses. “Trust me, we all seem to go through it, but I don’t know what I would have done if Wes hadn’t found a way to be there for me even when I didn’t want him to be. It’s a lot to be a single mom. I can’t even imagine what’s going through her head right now since her life is very much in the spotlight and people are watching her every move.”
Maybe nods. “We’ve all tried to run away at one time or another. It’s really hard to convince a good woman that she’s truly found a good man. You just meet so many people in your life that let you down, you know?”
“Guys, we’re not in a relationship,” I interject, trying to bring these women back to a semblance of reality. “I want to be in the baby’s life, and I think she wants me to be, but we didn’t build this on a foundation of friendship and love and…whatever else your relationships are built on. We slept together one night and made a baby.”
Georgia smirks. “Did you know the only reason Kline asked me out in the first place was so he wouldn’t have to go on a date with a woman his mom was trying to set him up with?”
“Kline?” I ask disbelievingly. That doesn’t seem like the kind of move the level-headed guy I know would make at all.
Georgia nods, eyes knowing. “We’d been working together for over two years with nothing more than basic professional exchanges. I was never even on his radar as someone he might want to date until I was the only one in the office building at the time he desperately needed an out.”
“Thatch and I hated each other’s guts,” Cassie states boldly with a smirk. “I mean, he always loved my tits, but he’s the last motherfluffer I expected to end up with.”
“That actually kind of explains a lot.” I laugh a little and lift my beer to my lips to take a sip.
She shrugs and looks at her nails. “I also fell asleep on his dick the first time we had sex, and hey, he didn’t let that stop him.”
I don’t even get a chance to get the beer in my mouth before I’m choking on it, coughing my way through a fit in an effort not to spray the hoppy liquid across the room.
Before I know it, all the ladies have started to smile.
“Wes and I were work enemies,” Winnie chimes in. “I kept sidelining all of his best players.” I frown and she laughs. “To be fair, they were injured.”
“Literally hated Trent,” Greer says without shame. “He was a snobby, good-looking dickhead, and I was perfect, obviously. But it really took us a while to see the other as anything more than an enemy to crush. I definitely wouldn’t say we built the beginning of our relationship on friendship and love and trust and shit.”
Georgia giggles.
“Milo is my brother Evan’s best friend, and I practically had to drag him into my life kicking and screaming,” Maybe says through an adorable giggle. “I guess his loyalty is a good thing, but man, I wanted to go full-on Slytherin when it was happening.”
Slytherin? Huh?
“Okay,” I mutter, my mind about to explode from the influx of information. “I don’t really understand half of what you just said, but I think I got the gist.”
Ruby smiles as the group turns to her, and then she shakes her head. “I’m pretty sure you know all about Cap’s and my relationship. You had a goddamn book club about it, for shit’s sake. You’re still not forgiven completely, by the way.”
Lena leans in conspiratorially. “Sometimes relationships aren’t planned, dude. If they were, I might have ended up with you or something.” She winks. “Theo and I started with one, fun passionate night too. Look at us now.”
“Yeah,” Cassie says resolutely. “So, basically, Harry, what we’re trying to beat into your brain right now is that you’ve got to fight for your girl.”
I shake my head in wonder. “How did we even get here? As I recall, I didn’t bring up trying to start a relationship with her at all.”
Georgia shrugs. “It’s all in the body language.”
Cassie snorts. “And your big ole fake pregnant body is doing a whole hell of a lot of talking.”
“Guys don’t wear fat suits to work for women they don’t care about,” Winnie says sagely.
Greer rolls her eyes. “Most men don’t even go to the trouble of putting on clean underwear. Good Lord, the dating world is a fucking disaster. Thank God for Trent Turner—ironically, a phrase I, at one time, thought I’d never say.”
“What about you, Emory?” Georgia asks. “How did you and Quince get together? I honestly don’t think I’ve ever heard the story.”
Emory blushes and shakes her head, and the women spring on her like vipers.
“Oh my God, now you have to tell us!”
“Holy hell, I need a juicy story!”
“How in the fuck have I not heard this?” That one from her best friend, Greer.
“No.” Emory shakes her head. “This isn’t a story I like to let out into the light of day. Think of me and this story as vampires. We will expire.”
“Well, goddamn,” Greer growls with frustration. “Now we have to know. Especially me. I cannot believe you’ve managed to keep your Twilight meet-cute a secret for this long.”
“It’s not a Twilight meet-cute,” Emory avoids.
Lena laughs. “Theo loves Twilight.”
“My God,” I remark. “Someone write down the date. After tonight, I will never be the same.”
Georgia laughs. “Feeling a little too feminine?”
I laugh and shrug. “Honestly, this feels very similar to how the guys’ conversations go.”
Cassie snorts. “I’m not surprised. T-bag gabs constantly.”
“Guys, focus,” Greer interrupts. “Emory was about to tell us her story.”
“No,” Emory says with a laugh. “I wasn’t.”
The group erupts again.
“Come on!”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Jesus Christ!”
“Fine!” Emory finally yells. “Fine. I’ll tell you the freaking story. But you can’t tell Quince I told you because he’s a little sensitive about it.”
Every single head swings my way, and I put my hands up in my defense. “Hey, I’m a vault, okay?”
“All right.” Emory takes a deep breath in through her nose and blows it out through her mouth before turning to Greer. “Do you remember the concert I asked you to go to that you told me you wouldn’t go to unless I took you there in a body bag?”
Greer’s eyebrows draw together as she thinks back. “I feel like I say that a lot.”
“You do,” Emory confirms with a snort. “But you said it explicitly, many times over, when I asked you repeatedly to go to a concert I’d been dying
to go to for almost a decade.”
Greer thinks some more, biting her bottom lip and humming, and Emory gets more and more agitated by the minute.
“Jesus Christ, are you really the worst friend in the universe?”
“Listen,” Greer placates. “I’m thinking. It’s just that your taste in music is—oh my God! Taylor Swift? Lord Jesus, please tell me you met Quince at a Taylor Swift concert.”
Emory sucks her lips into her mouth and nods. “He had the seat next to me in the front row.”
“Oh my God!” Greer shouts. “I can’t believe Quince is a Swifty! I bet he fought you over who got to play Tay-Tay when you guys did the Kanye-Taylor couple’s costume at the masquerade ball, didn’t he?”
Emory drops her head into her hands and groans. “He’s going to kill me.”
“All this time, you’ve been keeping this from me?” Greer goes on.
Winnie’s smile is far less mocking but no less delighted as she enters the fray of questioning. “He’s that big of a Taylor Swift fan?”
Emory shakes her head. “I don’t know. He claimed he was there to FaceTime the whole thing for his cousin’s little girl, but he couldn’t get the iPad to work.” She shrugs. “And he did dance along a lot.”
“Man,” Lena says with a laugh. “You really never know where you’re going to meet your man.”
“Or woman!” Georgia shouts. “This is an important lesson, Harrison. Learn from all of us. It doesn’t have to look like the fairy tale or have the traditional timeline. So, you got her pregnant first.” She shrugs. “That doesn’t mean you guys aren’t meant to be together.”
“Look, guys…girls. Whatever. I really appreciate this. All of you and your stories and you sharing them with me. It’s just…this is complicated. She’s got a public fiancé already.”
“But he’s fake, right?”
“Technically, yes. But to her team and the public, this is the best option—”
“Oh, horseshit,” Cassie snaps. “It’s all horseshit. And I don’t even say shit anymore because I’m raising a couple of shitheads. But this is worth it. I’m telling you now—we’re all telling you—if you want this woman to be the woman in your life, you have to walk your ass out on that limb and go for it. Blow it all up. Set it on fire. Tear it all down—destroy the damn thing. Who gives a fluff if it makes a ruckus?”