Edward: BBW (Members From Money Book 17)

by Katie Dowe

  “Kiara,” the blonde said. Cameron examined her, noting the distinctively boyish look, with her short hair, and the perchance for a button-sleeved top and jean shorts. The friend stuck with a yellow spotted short dress, revealing a scandalous amount of leg, and her hair draped to the bottom of her spine.

  “Faye,” The other woman said.

  “I’m Cameron,” he replied, giving them both again charming smiles, whilst wondering if Kiara was straight or not, judging by the hard, unfeminine glint in her expression.

  Kiara narrowed her eyes, a bulb of realization lighting up in her brain.

  “You seem like you’ve heard of me,” Cameron said, casual.

  “Cameron Lovell?”

  “Yes?”

  “Yeah. I think you slept with one of my friends,” Kiara said. “One night stand. Jara. Two months ago. You remember her? She had a few choice words to say about you.”

  The drinks arrived. Cameron’s friendly expression vanished. “Perhaps I better go elsewhere? If my presence offends you.”

  “Oh no.” Kiara said sweetly. “Cameron. Please stick around. The friend who is coming, I think she’ll like to see you. A lot.”

  Faye gaped incredulously at Kiara and Cameron, clearly not understanding the hostile tension.

  “If I’m waiting for this Jara, I think it’s best I go then. So I don’t cause distress to her. I don’t want drama.” Cameron made to stand up. Kiara stood up with him.

  “Look, sorry. It’s not Jara who is coming. I was just being a little bitch because I’ve had to be dealing with her sobbing for a few weeks. I know you’re not having a good time of things yourself. I promise you, it’ll be worth waiting.”

  Cameron halted like a rabbit caught in headlights. The attempt at a hasty retreat to avoid potential drama vanished at Kiara’s sudden pronouncement.

  “How do you know what I’ve been going through?”

  Kiara smiled. “Friend of a friend. Look, here she is.”

  Turning his head to look, Cameron saw none other than Vaneese stride through the entrance, clad in a long dress and tasseled feet. Her blue handbag swung at her hip. Upon spotting Kiara and Faye, she waved. Kiara enthusiastically pointed at Cameron. A cold sweat broke over his skin. Vaneese’s eyebrows rose.

  “Make sure he doesn’t get away,” she said.

  “I am,” Kiara assured her.

  Terror slivered through Cameron. Although he had never been left in a room alone with Vaneese before, he knew perfectly well what she was like, and that regarding her sister, she became a fire-breathing dragon capable of annihilating you in a single puff. However, despite his shrieking urge to flee, he also knew, dimly, that this might be his last chance to find some kind of reconciliation with Aleshia. With the weariness of a near-drowned man, he flopped back into the seat. Vaneese ordered a drink for herself, and dragged a chair over to their table, expression furrowed in calculation.

  “You look like you’re about to shit your pants,” the thirty-six year old remarked. “I’m not that scary. I certainly wasn’t expecting to see you so soon, here.”

  “I had no idea you liked this bar,” Cameron confessed. “In all the years I’ve been here, I’ve never once spotted you.”

  “I’ve been coming here for the last few months. My sister introduced me to it. I believe you were the one who helped her find it.” Vaneese – who had harder, less prone to smiling features than her sister, ditched the formalities and confronted Cameron directly.

  “What’s this conversation going to be about?” Cameron folded his arms, staring back dispassionately. “I didn’t come out here to be bludgeoned by what someone else did.”

  Again, the poisonous words leaped to his tongue. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t suppress that bitterness and pride within.

  “Oh, I’m here to help you,” Vaneese replied, jabbing a finger at him. “Strict intervention. Well, I was here to have a good night out with my friends, but you take priority, right now.”

  Puzzled, Cameron took the bait. Either he walked away or he didn’t. Either he sorted things out, or left perpetually confused and regretful. “Alright. I’ll listen to what you have to say. I warn you, though, I’m feeling mad. Really fucking mad for what has happened.”

  “I know.” Vaneese gave a small flick of her wrist. “I don’t blame you. My sister is a complete idiot.”

  Cameron blinked astonishment. He had been expecting Vaneese to flog him with reasons why Aleshia did what she did, and admonish him at the same time. He didn’t anticipate this. “What?”

  “You heard me. My sister’s an idiot. I love her to bits, and I support her choices, but she fucked up with you.”

  Kiara slurped on her drink, with Faye still boggling in that vapid way of hers. Kiara leaned over to whisper into her ear, updating Faye on the situation. The rage inside Cameron dwindled in the face of Vaneese’s admission, like a popped balloon. The pride that reared its monstrous head quietened into a low growl.

  “I wondered if it was my fault. Something I did,” he said, eventually. “I didn’t understand.”

  “My sister was having a mid-life crisis, you could say. It was like this. She liked you. But it happened fast – when she was barely weeks out of a damaging relationship. She wanted to believe you – but her former partners betrayed her trust. Peter, fucker that he was, truly did a number to her brain. Bigger than you realize.”

  Cameron slowly nodded, digesting the information. “I heard about Peter, yes. I even saw some of the text messages.”

  “Thank fuck she deleted them,” Vaneese said fervently.

  “She deleted?” Cameron scratched his chin, puzzled. “Didn’t she say she was planning to let him have a chance with the… baby?”

  Vaneese shrugged. “Yeah. I guess you weren’t around for that part. Yes, she deleted him, same day she decided to have her little meltdown. Babbled a lot of confusing things at me. How she didn’t want to see you turn into Peter, or trap you in a shitty relationship, and see you betray her, and wanted to keep the good memories and sort out her shit without just latching onto the next available person. Basically, a lot of bullshit excuses to try and justify the fact she was running away from you.” The formidable woman tried out Kiara’s drink, savoring the taste. “She was too damn scared to be happy.”

  A long silence pervaded, though it came pleasantly, without tension. Vaneese kept the half-smile on her lips. She saw appreciatively that Cameron seriously processed the words, clamping down his urges to argue, to rage.

  The realtor sighed and aggressively drank his gin, emptying it in two gulps. “I hated that she blanked me out. I thought… we reached a kind of understanding. I told her about how I lacked responsibility, how I just… drifted through my life, screwing and working and following my dad’s footsteps. Then I felt. Something. You know. Something powerful for that woman. I considered things I never did. Was preparing myself to find a way to introduce her to my family. Then. She vanished.”

  “She was wrong to freeze you out. It was a stupid, petty mistake on her part. She was afraid that hearing you speak would make her lose the little resolve she had, fall in love with you all over again, and then have the both of you in a relationship which would surely turn stale in a matter of months. And maybe you would freak out and run once you saw the baby – since seeing the nugget wriggle and bawl is a hell of a lot different from saying you’ll look after it on paper. Babies are hard work. Noisy. Messy.” Vaneese chugged half her cherry beer. “And though she had a lot of bullshit, there is a valid point somewhere. You’ve been frolicking your whole life with your bachelor shit. Dijon knew you as a party animal, humping anything that moved. A regular lothario. Why risk such a huge change? And why slip back?”

  The reference to his recent activities stung, and he rose to counter the statement, justify his behavior, before allowing the impulse to die out. Vaneese wasn’t entirely wrong. He did like flirting with the women. He did cast aside responsibility, taking the easy path his dad carved for him. The
n Aleshia offered him a way to drastically change the cogs of his life. And when she vanished…

  “It’s my drugs.” He looked down at the table, where the little beermats with their boot pictures lay scattered about. “A way for me to forget what I’m thinking or feeling. Whenever I feel… bad, really bad, it’s easier to distract myself than to face it.” He sighed. “Wine and sheets. Means nothing. Doesn’t fill up anything. Just lets me forget.”

  Vaneese and Kiara nodded. Faye stared at him sympathetically. The server, passing their table, discreetly eavesdropped, catching onto the peculiar mood of their group.

  “She made the first steps at last. She realizes just how much she fucked up. I’m not going to sit here and try and guilt trip you with what happened last week. I just want you to know, if you still, somehow in your mind, want to make this work – you have a short window to make it happen. Before she decides once and for all to close up in her shell. If you haven’t already given up. Do it.”

  “And stop breaking other people’s hearts,” Kiara added helpfully.

  Once again, if he could trust Aleshia somehow, the ball of responsibility had bounced back into his side of the court. “I don’t know if I can stop myself from being mad. I might turn up at her door, see her face, and just lash out.”

  “You might,” Vaneese agreed, without a hint of disapproval. “But you might not. Lord knows you two have some shit to work through. And it’ll be a huge, sudden change for both of you. It may be too much. It may be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. Equally, it might be the best fucking choice you’ve made.”

  A wry smile lit Cameron’s mouth. “I can drink to that.” He raised his glass, prompting the server to fuel him up with another round.

  For the rest of the evening, they stuck together, talking, and Cameron slowly revived himself from the fog clouding his mind for the past four and a half months. It wasn’t as if the future had suddenly burst through the confusion and shone light into his face – but he did muster determination, enough to give things one last chance. They had been so close, coming into contact in Miami, even though the timing for Aleshia bordered on insane. Even though Cameron lingered at a crossroads, seeing one life ahead where he flirted and romped his way to an early, unfulfilling death, and the other revealing Aleshia, which had slammed shut on pristine hinges.

  Now, that door cracked open a fraction.

  At ten in the evening, Cameron bade the women goodbye, and strode with single minded determination to Aleshia’s house – too tipsy to risk driving by himself. Liquid courage rested in his stomach, along with the biting, invasive fear that when he knocked on Aleshia’s door once more, silence would answer back. Vaneese’s intervention said nothing Cameron hadn’t already suspected, but it did bring clarity to the troubled recesses of his mind.

  Approaching Aleshia’s house, the one he sought so hard to find for her, he hesitated, examining the half-moon in the dark sky. A cool breeze ruffled his shirt, and he patted down his hair, even though there wasn’t much to smooth off. The light of the room beyond the balcony illuminated the otherwise dark colored house. Standing in front of her house, Cameron took three, four deep breaths.

  Then, raising his fist, he rapped on the door twice, waited ten seconds, then did it again. He craned his ears for the tantalizing sound of Aleshia’s feet, tapping along the wooden floorboards. A scratch of nails followed as she fumbled for the door handle, opened it inwards, and registered the sight of her visitor. Curiosity evolved into utter shock. Cameron noted her bulging stomach, with the belly button sticking out. He noticed how harassed and tired she looked.

  Beautiful.

  Words. He needed words. None came out. They just ogled each other, clueless. He forced sentences out his throat.

  “Aleshia. I’m sorry for my reaction last week. I’m angry as hell at you. I’m furious and hurt you just cut me out without bothering to consult me, or dropping me a word as to why. I had to find it out from others.” His hands balled into fists. He ignored her terrified expression, tried to not let it register in his brain the dried tear streaks on her face.

  “And, frankly, I’m still mad, and I still don’t fully understand. But I do know that despite this stupid, fucked up thing that happened, I still love you. I still want you in my life. I shouldn’t have reacted as I did when you finally came.”

  Aleshia said nothing. The breeze danced around them.

  Filling up the silence, Cameron continued, slightly rushed, “I want to try and make things work. I want to try and share the task with you of doing something radical, different, but yet so right. You feel right for me. This feels right. And, if you’ll have me, I’ll be happy to consider marriage. I can see us together. I want to marry you.” Cameron almost gasped at his confession, even as it bolted from his lips like a speeding hare. Had he really just said that? He wasn’t even considering mentioning the thought when he came. It spewed out of him, unsolicited, unexpected. He clapped a hand over his mouth.

  Aleshia opened her mouth to respond, but halted when a splashing noise interrupted her attempt to speak.

  At first, Cameron didn’t understand. It wasn’t raining. Then he looked below, even as Aleshia did with sheer bemusement, and saw a watery puddle under her feet, transparent liquid dripping down her legs.

  They raised their eyes to meet again.

  “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Cameron said.

  At this, Aleshia let out a hysterical giggle. “Kidding is one way to put it across, yeah.”

  “My fucking timing! Jesus. What do I do. My car’s by the bar, I’m too tipsy to drive you… shit. Let me call the hospital.” Cameron rummaged for his phone, testing three different pockets until he fished it out.

  “I liked the speech, though. It was very… moving. I got all watery.” Aleshia’s giggling escalated into full blown, howling laughter, before she winced from a contraction. She had to kneel down, wrapping arms around her stomach. “I’m crazy. This is crazy. You couldn’t have come at a worse time.” She gritted her teeth, breathing hard.

  “I appear to be making a habit of that,” Cameron mumbled, but before he dialed the number, Aleshia stopped him.

  “Wait. The midwife I spoke to about this said that I shouldn’t go to the hospital until my contractions are around five minutes apart. The baby isn’t going to suddenly shoot out.”

  Cameron, still trying to push Aleshia’s fingers away to make the call. “Well. I still think we should call.”

  Aleshia winced again. “I’ve been getting contractions… before. But they haven’t been five…”

  “Fuck it.” Cameron punched in the number, made the call, and after answering questions between them, helped comfort and soothe Aleshia, until the ambulance came.

  Chapter 10

  Three days later, Aleshia was discharged from the hospital. The experience there tumbled in a haze of pain, stress, and confusion. Cameron Lovell stuck by her side as she was first wheeled in.

  Through the pain and technobabble of everyone around her, Aleshia discovered she had already started her labor, though her water hadn’t broken as a precursor toward the event. Aleshia should have been in contact with her midwife more regularly than she had been, regarding the contractions. The doctors, concerned of complications, wanted her in early, and kept watch over her as her body eased itself into the process.

  Cameron needed to go at one point – he was not allowed to stay with her overnight, and he had work. He did come in with Vaneese and Dijon the next day, and plans had been arranged for Aleshia’s mother to fly over. The flights at such short notice cost a lot, though the price got upfronted by Cameron, with some resistance since Vaneese and Dijon planned to do the honors themselves.

  There was a lot of waiting – and the labor itself lasted around fourteen hours, until in a push of exhaustion and agony, her baby made his entrance into the world. She was allowed to cuddle her child for a few minutes, before he got whisked off for the post-partum examinations.

  T
he most important people in her life waited outside the delivery room. The group included her wonderful, aging mother, flown down less than a day after the water breaking, Dijon and Vaneese, who had canceled everything on the spot to be there for her sister, and Cameron, still unsure of his place, being studied by Aleshia and Vaneese’s mother.

  The experience felt less magical than she wanted, and more like she was cattle being herded, her baby already being placed into the cogs and grind of society, before he even had a chance to take in the world around him. The wailing that belted out of his little lungs was perfectly understandable. A flood of empathy accompanied her, regarding the tiny infant.

  “Took your time,” her mother said, an almost insane smile stretching her cracked lips. Gail Washington, a tiny slip of a woman compared to her towering daughters, pulled Cameron closer to her, to keep a tight inspection of the new man in Aleshia’s life.

  Pangs of guilt throbbed through Aleshia – she never updated her mother on the chaos of any men in her life. She failed to mention Cameron at all, so brief their stint had been before she tried to shove him away. It didn’t help they only reunited barely minutes before her membrane ruptured. There would be questions.

  Right now, in the wake of the new arrival, the questions remained corked.

  “Mother, I took exactly nine months. I’m not sure what you were expecting,” Aleshia said, exhausted but elated beyond measure to see the woman there.

  “My beautiful grandson. I can’t wait to hold him.” Gail squinted up at Cameron, patting his arm. “Nice looking young man here. Nice name, too. Cameron. How did you get pulled into our side of the world, eh?” She gave him a friendly, affable wink.

  Cameron shrugged, nervous but keen to make a good impression with the woman.

  “By accident. I believe the term ‘whirlwind romance’ applies here.”

  “Yes. Yes. A pregnant woman. Takes a special kind of man to decide he wants to stick by. I like you, boy. You’ll go far. I’ll be watching, as well.”