“She died when you were in college?”
“No,” I shook my head. “She died about a year later. I’d already moved back home.”
“Oh,” she said. “How many children do you want?”
“I’m not sure. I always thought it would be cool for my kids to grow up with Easton’s kids, but Cheyenne’s ten now.”
“He and Brooke can still have one.” She smirked, taking a sip of her water.
I laughed. “I guess so. I’ve actually never seen Easton act this way towards a girl before.”
“They’re totally going to get married and have babies.” She chuckled.
“Oh really? And what about you? Are w—um, how many kids do you want?” I stopped myself, again biting my tongue when I wanted to talk to Nicole about our future.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Two or three at the most.”
“Cool. What’s your favorite position?”
Nicole started to choke on her water. “Not holding back I see.”
“You’ve been my girlfriend for two weeks. I think it’s time I know.” I grinned, sipping my beer. I needed to change the subject from our future. Wearing my heart on my sleeve always got it crushed.
“So I’m your girlfriend?”
I paused. It had been a long time since I’d had one. The last time was in college and I’d asked the girl to be my girlfriend. Did people still do that at thirty-one?
“Is there any doubt?”
“No.” She shook her head.
“Want me to ask you if you want to go steady?” I laughed.
She laughed back. “No, I just didn’t know. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in a serious relationship.”
“Me, too. So, it’s settled. You’re my girlfriend and I’m your boyfriend and if I see anyone hit on you, I get to punch them.” I laughed again. I was only half joking. The thought of someone else flirting with Nicole made my blood boil.
“All right, Mike Tyson.”
“Hey, if I remember correctly, you staked your claim on the cruise ship.”
She blushed. “I did and I was prepared to bitch slap those two bitches.”
“All right, so we both don’t deal well with jealousy. Noted. But I won’t be biting some guy’s ear off for you.” I laughed. “Now, will you answer my question?”
“Doggie,” she said, not missing a beat. Her face flushed more and I wanted to reach across the table and kiss her. But instead the waitress decided to bring our food at that time.
“Would you like fresh parmesan cheese?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said. I didn’t tell her to stop until I had a small pile of the grated goodness on my pasta.
Nicole waved the waitress off, not waiting any of the fresh cheese and she left.
“Oh my god, this smells so good,” I groaned.
“I think I’m going to throw up.”
I looked up at her pale face. “Babe…what’s the matter?”
“This smells weird and it’s making me nauseous.”
“Are you sick? Did you drink the water in Mexico?” I had to laugh at my joke, but Nicole wasn’t laughing.
“I don’t know. Here,” she said, handing me her plate. “Get it as far away from me as you can before we both don’t eat.”
“Let’s go home. Get you some saltines and 7-Up.”
“No, you eat. I’ll just eat the bread.”
“I’m not going to eat in front of you. Especially since you ordered your favorite. It’s fine.” I waved the waitress over, asking her to box our food and bring the bill.
“Thank you,” Nicole said on the verge of tears.
“Baby, it’s okay if you’re sick. You’ve been through a lot this week, and your body’s probably just trying to fight off the stress.” I reached out, caressing her hand in mine.
“Aren’t I the one in the medical field?”
“True, but when you’re better, I want to play doctor.” I winked, trying to lighten the mood.
I had no idea what I was coming down with, but the smell of cheese was making me nauseous. Maybe it was just stress from dealing with Brooke’s tumor. I hated seeing her in pain and not knowing if she had cancer. We received Brooke’s biopsy results and they were inconclusive. The doctor that did the procedure wasn’t able to get enough sample to test because the tumor was extremely dense. What the fuck does that even mean? I know what dense is, but don’t these people know how stressed we are, not knowing if Brooke has cancer?
Brooke handled the news better than I thought she would. I was expecting her to break down because we still didn’t know if she had cancer. Each night, Avery helped me cheer up by calling me and making me laugh. During the week, I tried to cheer Brooke up by making her laugh. Laughing masks pain and I wanted all of our pain to vanish—even if it was only temporary while our minds weren’t on the fact that Brooke may be dying. I was tired and emotional and trying to hide my worry. Avery assured me that after Brooke’s surgery and her tumor was tested and not cancerous, my stress levels would go down and I wouldn’t be as tired. At least we hoped that was the case.
On Friday, I got off of work early and Brooke and I headed for New York to see our guys. Avery knew I was coming, but neither of the guys knew Brooke was coming. Brooke wanted to surprise Easton and I didn’t want Avery to tell him that she was coming. He didn’t tell me that Easton was coming for Brooke’s biopsy, so I wasn’t going to tell him that Brooke was in the car with me.
Did we trust each other?
“We should surprise him at the bar,” I said, talking about Easton. “Avery’s there, too, but I didn’t tell him that we were both coming.”
“You didn’t? Where am I supposed to sleep?” she asked, her eyes wide.
“I figured you would stay at Easton’s.” I shrugged.
“Hello, Easton hasn’t introduced me to Cheyenne, yet. I can just imagine us bumping into each other in the hall. “Hello, I’m Brooke, your daddy’s fuck buddy.””
“You know you’re more than just a fuck buddy.”
“I hope so. I mean, I know, but once I meet Cheyenne, that will seal the deal in my eyes.”
“You already know that’s coming. Pull up directions to the bar on your phone,” I said, motioning to her phone in her hand.
We arrived in the city, black clouds rolling in, and once we parked in the parking lot at Halo, the clouds opened and rain started to beat down on my car.
“Looks like we made it just in time, but now we need to make a run for it,” I said.
We dashed through the parking lot, rain falling hard on us, and once we got to the front, I opened the heavy wooden door and entered. A bouncer checked our IDs, and then let us by. The bar was packed and bodies were everywhere: on the dance floor, sitting at high top tables and at the bar.
It was like Avery had a pull on me. I instantly spotted him behind the bar and my smile widened. Before I could step forward to go to him, Brooke grabbed my arm hard, stopping me in my tracks. She motioned to the bar and that was when I saw Easton flirting with a redhead.
I was going to kill him.
“Oh, fuck no!” I shouted over the loud music, every head nearby turned in my direction. Before I could say anything further, Brooke slowly backed up and then turned, running out the door.
I looked to Avery, he was looking at me and then my eyes turned back to seek out Easton. I couldn’t find him. Before I realized it, he was bolting past me and through the doors after Brooke.
My mouth hung open as Avery motioned for me to come towards him. Maybe surprising Easton wasn’t a good idea—or maybe it was. It was better for Brooke to find out now rather than later if he was a cheating bastard like Jared.
I squeezed through warm, sweaty bodies and made my way to the bar. Avery motioned to a stool in the corner that had a sign in front of it on the bar that read: “RESERVED FOR MY GIRL”. ‘RESERVED’ was printed from a computer on card stock, ‘MY GIRL’ written in pen. I smiled. I was his girl and I loved it.
Avery lea
ned on the bar where my reserved seat was in the corner. Once I made it through all the sweaty bodies he tapped his lips, asking for me to give him a kiss.
“Whose seat is this?” I asked, joking after our lips pulled apart.
“That seat?” He pointed to the black barstool. “That seat’s for my girl.”
“Is she here?” I looked around the bar as if I was trying to find her.
He reached over the bar, grabbing my face in both hands and kissed me again. “I only kiss my girl.”
“Well, your girl wants to make sure that her best friend’s okay before she gets comfy. Plus, I’ve been sitting for almost five hours and my ass hurts.” I laughed.
“All right, stand. I need to help customers while Easton’s out dealing with Brooke.”
“Just real quick. Has he been cheating on her?”
“God no, Baby. I would beat the shit out of him. You know that.”
“But he was flirting with that redhead,” I pointed, not having any shame in doing so. I’d bitch slap anyone trying to get with my best friends man.
“We…” He paused. “Don’t get mad.”
My eyes widened as I saw his chest rise, taking in a deep breath like he had devastating news.
“We flirt to get more tips,” he whispered closer to me.
I laughed. I’d been flirted with by bartenders for eight years. I knew how they played their game.
“You’re not mad?” he asked.
“No,” I said, shaking my head and still laughing. “I get it. But,” I said, dragging out the last word, “if I see any chick give you more than money, I make no promises.”
He laughed. “All right, Laila Ali.”
“Get to work and make me some money, honey,” I said, shooing him away, still laughing. “Oh, A.” I grabbed his hand before he was out of my reach. “I like your hair cut.”
“I was wondering if you’d notice.”
“How could I not? It’s so much shorter,” I reached out, running my hand along the side of his head. His hair was much shorter, buzzed on each side and only about an inch on top. He no longer had the shaggy surfer vibe going on and he and Easton didn’t look like they could be twins.
Avery kissed me softly one last time before he left to help customers. I watched as he made drinks, glancing over at me and winking each time before he gave a woman her drink. Maybe he did want me to kick some ass. “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee. The hands can't hit what the eyes can't see.” After all he called me Laila Ali, the daughter of one of the greatest boxers of all time, Muhammad Ali.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Brooke and Easton approaching. I guess Brooke had made it out the door before Easton caught up with her because they were both drenched head to toe and Brooke’s hair was frizzy.
Easton smiled at me and nodded as if to say hello, then motioned for Avery to step over to us. Avery was looking at him weird as Easton dripped rainwater on the hardwood floors.
“It’s raining outside,” Easton said, over the loud music.
“I can tell.” Avery smiled.
“It’s getting late, and I want her to meet Cheyenne before she goes to bed. Do you mind if I take off?”
My heart swelled. Brooke was going to meet Cheyenne.
“My girl is here too, man,” Avery said, motioning to me.
“I need to talk to you then. Let’s go to the office.” Easton turned to Brooke as I just watched. Avery rolled his eyes. “Baby, have a drink. I need to sort this out with Av.”
“Okay.” She pulled him down by his shirt and kissed him. I knew what she was doing. She wanted every woman in this bar to know that he belonged to her.
That’s my girl!
“I see what your plan is, Baby,” Easton said, giving her a knowing smile. “Bethy, can you make Brooke whatever she wants to drink?”
“Sure thing. Sweetie, what will it be?”
Avery and Easton left. I watched them walk down the hallway, turn, and then walk upstairs.
“Vodka cranberry,” Brooke said.
“What about you, Nicole?” Bethy asked. She knows my name? “I see your boyfriend didn’t get you a drink.”
“Oh, I’ll need to punish him later for that.” I laughed. “I’ll just take cranberry juice. No vodka.”
“You’re not drinking?” Brooke asked. “You always drink.”
“I haven’t been feeling well. My tummy feels—blah.”
“What the hell is a blah tummy?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been getting nauseous a lot and I just don’t want to drink.” I shrugged. Bethy returned, handing us our drinks. “Enough about me. So…that kiss.” I smiled.
“He loves me.”
“Oh my God!” I shouted. “He told you he loves you?”
“Yeah,” she said with dreamy eyes. “In the pouring rain, and then he kissed me like Mary Jane and Spiderman, except he wasn’t upside down.” She sighed as if she were remembering the kiss.
I grinned. So Avery and I had classified ourselves like famous boxers and Brooke and Easton were superheroes. Interesting. “I’m so happy for you,” I said, giving her a hug, but made it short because she was making me wet.
“Thank you. You know Avery loves you right?”
“He hasn’t said it.”
“Maybe he feels that it’s too soon and he doesn’t want to scare you off?”
“Yeah, maybe,” I said, taking a sip of my juice.
“He loves you. I can see it. Maybe you should be the one to tell him first?”
Whoa, whoa, whoa! Didn’t Brooke know that the men are supposed to profess their love first? I mean, we read about it all the time in our romance novels and see it on romance movies. My relationship with Avery wasn’t like a romance novel—well, maybe an erotica novel. We did fuck like rabbits on the cruise right after we’d met. But maybe Brooke was right. Maybe it was time to write a different formula and profess my love to him first.
It was like Nicole was meeting my parents for the first time, but they weren’t my biological parents. They were Easton’s. I wished they were my biological parents, though. They’d stuck by Easton when he chose to get married instead of go off to college. They hadn’t tried to blackmail him into playing pro-ball, they hadn’t told him he needed to get a college education to be successful. They’d just loved him and supported his crazy idea to get married at twenty-one.
When I had my own child, I was going to be like Easton’s parents. They were what parents should be.
“I wonder how last night went,” Nicole said, slipping on her shoes.
“With Cheyenne?”
“Yeah. It’s a big deal for Brooke to meet her.”
“It’s a big deal for Cheyenne to meet Brooke,” I countered.
“I know. It’s all a big deal. I hope Cheyenne likes her.”
I laughed. If Cheyenne were anything like her mother, she would give her attitude, testing her to make sure she was cool.
“I guess we’ll see.” I smiled.
We arrived at the softball field ten minutes before Cheyenne’s game was going to start. There was another game in progress and as I led Nicole to the bleachers, her hand in mine, my heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest.
I’d never introduced Jimmy and Jane to one of my girlfriends before. I hadn’t had a girlfriend since college, and even then I hadn’t brought her home with me on break. But Nicole—Nicole was my girl. My love. The one I wanted to be with forever.
I needed to tell Nicole that I loved her. I couldn’t bite my tongue any longer. If she didn’t feel the same way, then I would deal with it. She was the one; my one and I wanted her to know that. I didn’t want the four and half hour drive between us anymore. I wanted her with me in my townhouse. I wanted to see her every single day and not from a tiny phone screen when we Facetimed.
My palms were clammy as we got closer to where Jimmy, Jane, and Brooke sat on the bleachers. We took the steps, weaving in and out of the people already sitting on them until we reach
ed the top where the three sat.
“Ma. Dad. This is my girlfriend Nicole. And Brooke’s best friend,” I said, looking over at Brooke and smiled.
“Av, it’s about time you bring a girl around,” Jane said, squeezing Nicole into a big hug.
“None of them meant what Nicole means to me.” I looked over at Nicole.
She smiled and shook Jimmy’s hand. “Meeting both of our boy’s girls in the same day. I knew they were best friends, but this is weird.”
“It’s not weird,” Jane said, slapping Jimmy playfully. “They all met at the same time. It’s fate.”
“It’s nice to meet you both,” Nicole said.
Fate? Yeah, it was fate.
Nicole sat next to Brooke, and I sat next to Nicole, one step down from Jimmy and Jane. Watching Cheyenne play made me miss the game. I grew up loving it, but my parents had tainted that love. Seeing the joy on Cheyenne’s face out on the field felt right—felt like home.
I was surrounded by all my favorite people and had a girl that I loved.
I just needed to tell her.
After the game, we went for pizza with Cheyenne’s friend and parents. Her team won, so we needed to celebrate.
“I can’t eat this,” Nicole said, pushing her slice of pizza away from her.
Brooke and Easton stopped eating and eyed her curiously.
“The cheese?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“Are you lactose intolerant now?” Brooke asked.
“Maybe.” Nicole shrugged. “I’m having a weird thing with cheese.”
“I don’t know what else they have, but let’s go get you something else,” I said, reaching for her hand.
Nicole finally ordered a salad with ranch—no cheese. She was able to eat that with no problem.
The four of us hung out at Easton’s after pizza while Cheyenne played across the street with her friend. Even though Easton and I hadn’t had steady girlfriends in years and we never met the other person we each went on a date with, the four of us spending time together felt natural. It was like we were on the cruise again.
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