The Significant Other (The Relationship Quo Series Book 4)

by Nicole Strycharz

  He was polite and very well educated.

  Chance pet the back of his head and laughed at something he said. I realized that Chance always wanted to be a father, he saw a future with Lamar and his kid was a way for Chance to have an off brand version of that still.

  Leslie was kind and very soft spoken. She invited us to stay for dinner which meant I had to go out and wake a snoring Zeus so he could join.

  TRIXIE

  I invited Adam and Chance over about three days after Jolee showed up.

  They both looked like stone when they saw her sitting on the sofa.

  “Thanks for coming,” I whispered at the door and hugged them both.

  They went to sit and I locked the door. I didn’t want the guys in on this.

  “You’re pregnant,” Adam said out loud.

  Jolee rubbed her bump, “A little,” she smiled sadly.

  Chance cocked a brow, “I thought you converted my money into an abortion.”

  “I was going to,” she explained, “but then I couldn’t.”

  We all sat in silence until I broke it, “Adam, even though you technically live with Chance this is still your place too. Jolee wants to know if she can stay until the baby is born.”

  He frowned at me, “Is that what you want?”

  “No,” I said honestly. “But I don’t want my niece or nephew born in a side alley either. I’m not too sure what to do. I’m asking for advice.”

  Adam watched Jolee, “You destroyed everything the last time. Why should I agree now? Who’s to say you won’t have this kid and abandon it with Trixie?”

  She nodded, “I know. Everything you are saying is very right. I know.”

  “Then why come back?” Chance asked.

  “Because I have nowhere else,” she cried. “I burned bridges. I tried going to Dad but he won’t even talk to me. Mom is ashamed. I really don’t know what to do.”

  Chance’s jaw ticked, “Is it Jax’s?”

  Her shoulders lifted and fell before she dropped her head.

  I sighed my frustration. “I don’t want to be stupid,” I admitted to the room, “But I don’t want to be cold either. This baby isn’t the one that screwed up.”

  They looked like they disagreed but then Chance defended my argument. “Baby shouldn’t suffer because it’s mother is what she is.”

  Adam didn’t speak.

  I tried again, “Or maybe Jolee will see her baby and realize there’s so much more to life than what she’s done.”

  Adam stood up and Chance followed. It’s still a little weird to see Adam and Chance be the team and to know I’m the outsider now. However, Chance controls Adam better. He doesn’t always submit.

  They spoke in hushed tones and I watched my sister with so many negative emotions in my heart.

  Adam came back and looked me in the eyes, “How far along is she?”

  Jolee answered but he didn’t look at her, “I’m nine months. The baby is due October 28th.”

  He took that in, “Chance said he’ll hire Jolee as a waitress again, after the baby is born to help you pay the rent here.” He looked her way, “And you will pay rent here. Your sister isn’t a bank.” He looked back to me, “I’m going to move in fully with Chance. I would have one of the guys move in with you but Knox moved in with Bianca and now the rent is split over there between Blaze and Diego.”

  I nodded knowing that Adam moving in completely with Chance was a major step on his part. “So how long does she stay?” I asked.

  “It’s your apartment now, Trix. She stays as long as you want. Until you get a roommate after the baby is born maybe.”

  I winced when I realized something else, “But she’s due this month. I would need a roommate… like now.”

  Chance took Adam’s hand, “No, I’ll cover her half a couple months starting now.”

  “I can’t ask you to do that.”

  He smiled and tugged Adam to the door. “You didn’t. I offered.”

  I smiled at him and got up to hug them goodbye. When they left I went to the kitchen. “Hungry?” I asked.

  She looked at me like a spooked deer. “You don’t have to, Trix.”

  I took a bunch of frozen fish fillets from the freezer, “Oh that’s not true.” I smiled to seem okay, “You have a little person cooking in there. You need to feed it.”

  She came over to sit at the island and supported her lower back with her hand, “Thank you.”

  I just smiled and went to work. Liam cooking with me flashed through my mind and I felt a sting.

  “So what is your plan? For the baby?” I asked.

  She patted her bump, “I don’t know. Nine months doesn’t seem like a long enough time to figure it out. I was hoping if mom and dad would talk to me at least…maybe they would want her.”

  “You know it’s a she?” I asked.

  “No, just a guess.”

  “You really don’t want to raise her?”

  She wiped a tear away, “Let’s face it, they were right. I would ruin this poor kid.”

  I felt a little sorry for her. I would never be able to give up my child but then again I’m not like Jolee. Only in appearance.

  She watched me cook a while then breached a question, “Would you take her?”

  I dropped my frying pan and scrambled to get it, “What? Have you lost your mind?”

  “You are the Aunt. It’s not unnatural.”

  “Jolee, I’m a broke musician. I mean, I do okay, the money isn’t bad and I wait tables but I can’t even afford this place on my own. I can’t stay home.”

  “You love kids, though. You always said you wanted like six.”

  “Yeah, when I have a partner and a home and other things grown-ups have.” I went back to cooking and tried talking down the heart attack I almost had.

  She gave me a lopsided smile, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out. I appreciate just being allowed to stay here.” She waddled to the fridge and I kissed her cheek as I reached for the butter.

  She brought something to the island and poured it. I turned to see her drinking wine and slapped the glass from her hand. “Oh my God! What the fuck are you doing?!”

  “What?” she screamed.

  The glass broke on my kitchen floor and I swiped the wine bottle, “You don’t drink when you are pregnant you idiot! Have you been drinking this whole time?”

  Her eyes went owlishly wide, “No…” but I could tell she was lying. Great, my niece would have brain damage.

  ADAM

  Walking down the street to a movie Chance reaches for my hand but upon feeling him I put on my shades to busy my hands. Why? Well, I might be doing better but some things still drive me nuts.

  What do I love about him the most? He’s not like Trixie, bending over backward to keep me happily tucked in my comfort zone.

  Stuck at a light he takes my hand in a crushing grip but I try pulling it back.

  “Hold my fucking hand!” He growls at me. Code Alpha Dog.

  I grumble but surrender my hand as the light changes.

  This is how we are. He doesn’t accept my robotic glitches. We actually spar like a true couple. Trixie was submissive but Chance is as in charge as I am.

  Walking from the club… I see him waiting in his car with the engine running. I go to open the door but it’s locked. “Chance,” I tapped the glass.

  He rolled my window down a crack, “Gotta pay the toll.”

  I rolled my eyes. Paying the toll meant a kiss. “This is a pretty busy street. Just open the door.”

  He turned up the music to the speakers and smiled behind his shades.

  I sighed and walked my way around the car. He rolled his window down and crooked his finger.

  I bent and took his lips in a rough kiss.

  When he let go I heard the doors unlock.

  In bed, in the deepest parts of sleep, I wake up freezing and realize he’s got more than half the blanket on the floor on his side.

  I sit up with barely o
pen eyes and fury, “What the fuck?” I say before yanking the blanket.

  “Eh!” he turns and punches me in the nose.

  “God damn it!” I yell.

  “What happened?” He sits up with eyes equally near shut.

  “You punched me!” Chance is a violent dreamer.

  “Well, why the fuck are you pulling on me?”

  I gestured to the floor, “Because you’re keeping the monsters under the bed warmer than me! You’re not even using it!”

  “You’re such a fucking Pussy.” He tosses the blanket over my head and lays back down with his back to me.

  I fought my way out of the duvet and scowled. “It’s cold!”

  “You just want your ankles covered because you have an irrational fear of something dragging you out of bed.” He accused.

  “Have you not seen Paranormal Activity?!”

  Then there are TV times. “Where the fuck is my football game?” He asked from the couch.

  I pushed my glasses up my nose and flipped the grilled cheese I was making. “You can watch it in the bedroom. Tonight is hockey night.” I said unapologetically.

  He murmured, “Bull shit,” and stopped the recording.

  “Really?” I stormed in when I heard the game sounds change.

  “Yes, really. I’m not watching Rambo’s on Ice.” He turned the volume up and I came around to sit and take the remote.

  “Football doesn’t even make any sense. It’s like, ‘hey guys, stand in lines then ram each other until a survivor gets the ball over the fork.’ Gee, what a sport.” I mocked.

  He wrestled the remote from my hands, “It’s not a fork you fucktard! It’s a goal and no one is trying to get the ball over-, hockey isn’t a sport!”

  I threw myself on him to get the remote back but he used his forearm to knock me in the nose.

  I punched him in the stomach and he dropped the remote five feet away so the brawl fell from the couch as we struggled to be first to reach it.

  He used his foot to kick me off and so on.

  Meanwhile, the grilled cheeses were grilled beyond repair.

  “Tomatoes are fruits,” he insisted while we sat at lunch. The ritzy restaurant he took us to carried a Roman theme and everything was either gold or sandstone.

  The full and rich salads we were eating before the main entre was full of plump red tomatoes so of course, this sparked a random argument.

  “They are not fruits, they are vegetables. Why do you think they made it this far in the salad world?” I said stabbing my lettuce with gusto.

  “Fruit.” He said simply to annoy me.

  I dropped my fork and picked up my phone, “Ya know what; let’s settle this. I know what I’m talking about. You’re so wrong. How does it feel to be so wrong?”

  He just kept eating in leisure, “Feels like being right but with actually being right.” He explained.

  “Here we go,” I said typing it into google. Wow, apparently a lot of people ask this question because it knew before I finished. “Ah Ha!” I sat back and read aloud, “Is a Tomato a vegetable or a fruit? That’s what I typed,” I announced.

  He reached over and took my bread while I pulled on glasses and read.

  “It says,” I scrolled, “The big question to ask is, Does it have seeds?” I gave him a smug look then kept reading but he was into the food, not my smarts, “If the answer is yes,” I stopped to give him another smug look, “you have a-.” I stopped and read it to myself several times.

  “What’s up, Adam?” He dug at me, “Go ahead, I’m okay with being proved wrong.”

  I shut off my phone. “The internet in here sucks.”

  “Right.”

  “What I meant to say, was some people really think it’s not a fruit…”

  He smirked. “How does it feel to be so wrong?”

  “Like being right but with a fork in your eye.”

  Or there was the other night when I came home and opened the cabinet, “Where did my nuts go?” I frowned.

  He snickered from the couch while spooning something into his mouth.

  “That’s not funny. I’m serious, my trail mix is missing.”

  “I don’t know,” he said around something crunchy.

  I turned my head real slow and watched him, “What are you eating?”

  He grinned then covered it with a deadpan expression. “Chips.”

  “With a spoon?”

  He shoved the last bite in and I squinted to see what it was. “You ate them! Why? I offered them to you just the other day and you said you hated nuts!”

  He laughed again but then went serious, “No, really it wasn’t your… nuts.”

  I went over and stood in front of him, “Prove it.”

  “How? You want me to throw up?”

  I sat by him and tapped my nose, “Breathe in my face. If you smell like trail mix I’m going to kill you.”

  He swallowed whatever was left and then pretended to cough but not enough air came out.

  “You totally ate them.”

  “Nope.”

  “Admit it!”

  “What if I suck your nuts and we forget the whole thing?”

  I frowned, “Chance! It’s a trust issue!”

  He got up and walked away.

  I don’t know why but even our fights make me happy because then there’re times like right now when I’m burning something in an attempt at cooking and he randomly comes up behind me to press his chest into my back. His mouth descends on my neck and I forget everything else.

  Or the moments in the morning when he’s bringing me coffee and telling me about drama at work downstairs.

  He has a weird tick about wasting food that I think is from times he went hungry so he eats anything I leave behind. I love that too.

  When we walk down shady streets it’s not like when I had a girlfriend I had to protect, now its two equals looking out for one another. I know he’s watching my back, as I’m watching his.

  He bought me a new guitar last week and that ruined me. It’s beautiful and it plays like a dream. I found it on our bed when I made it home early, with a note that said, “So you can ride another beet.” His writing and reading skills are sharpening thanks to Leslie and myself. Even if he spelled ‘beat’ wrong.

  My favorite part of being us is if he’s doing his night owl thing and wakes me up to ask me to sing. So we press close and I sing something low in my throat.

  I don’t smoke but we lounge together on the roof while he does. Looking at stars and talking about the future.

  “I love you,” I said against his ear in the chilly October air.

  “I love you,” he returned.

  TRIXIE

  “We need bottles… if you aren’t breastfeeding,” I told Jolee as we buzzed all over the baby store full of infant needs. I pushed the cart left but then saw her ages behind me, “Come on! You are no more prepared for this child than a teenager.”

  She huffed, “You try lugging around a ten-pound backpack in front and see how fast you go.”

  I shook my head, “It’s not about that. You aren’t even invested. Are you even looking? Jenzy and Chris sent us a whole list of stuff we need. Maybe actually look at it.”

  She stopped to poke a teddy bear on a shelf full of identical bears, “It’s a baby, how much does it need?”

  I cut my eyes at her and kept pushing the cart full of things, “This baby deserves more than a blanket, Jolee. You don’t even know the sex; you don’t have to love it, but try to care. We will be caring for it until you find a family.”

  “I do care!” she rebuked, “but damn, Trix, it’s the 30th and this kid still isn’t out. I’m tired and bored. You won’t even let me down into the club.”

  “What does a nine-month pregnant woman need to do in a night club?” I found 0-3month onsies and fawned a little. How is she not caught up in it? I’m not going to say being single and pregnant is my idea of ideal but it’s still a baby. A tiny little person with no choice but to depe
nd on it’s mother. I’m just sorry that mother is far from reliable.

  “I want to have fun,” she bitched, “like one drink will kill me.”

  “It’s very bad for the baby, Jolee. Please think about someone else for once.”

  “Is dancing bad for it too?”

  “No, but you won’t stop at dancing.”

  I found weed in her purse last week and since then I cracked down hard on her.

  “Are we almost done?” she whined.

  Blaze came up with a stroller that still had tags on it, “Check this thing out!” he said excitedly. “You can put all your stuff in this basket under here and there are compartments for snacks and drinks. Plus! Look!” he folded it up in one swift move.

  “Nice,” I approved, “how much?”

  He waved me off, “Don’t worry about it.”

  I sent him a sweet smile. The guys are loose in the store shopping with me because they know this is all coming out of my pocket.

  “Thanks,” I went and kissed his cheek. He winked and drove it to the checkout.

  Diego brought me a highchair. “What do you think?” he asked.

  I looked it over, “Well, the baby won’t need one for a long time, Jenzy said it could wait. Might have to because the apartment can’t handle this along with the crib Adam and Chance bought.”

  He nodded and went in search of something else on the list.

  Knox and Bianca were holding hands as they flipped through lots of infant clothes and Jolee just had to take a break. From doing nothing. Again! She sat in a waiting area.

  I carried on by myself through the store until I was in the spot with all the bottles. Wow. I need to call Jenzy. I can’t figure this out alone. There are only 10,000 bottles. I took out my phone as I rounded the corner and my cart slammed into someone else’s.

  “Oh! I didn’t see you!” I defended before looking up.