Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.
Beta'd by HollettLA.
In honor of my birthday tomorrow, I'm updating again :-)
Enjoy
"Riders on the Storm"
Chapter Fifteen: Baby Blues
Sonny POV
At a quarter past seven, I gazed at my watch, wondering what was taking Katie so fucking long. We were to leave at seven, and I told her this. I even came from Eclipse just to pick her ass up and bring us to La Bella Italia.
AJ started a new tradition a few years back. In the fall, he introduces a whole new menu. True, I'll still order my all-time favorites—shit I've been eating all my life. But this was a big thing for our family—our group.
It's an excuse for the guys to take their wives out—to a venue they can actually attend. It's no party. Everyone will be paired off with their immediate people, at their own tables, but getting up and talking to others is quite common, too.
"Let's go!" I boomed down the hall.
"Two minutes!"
"Now!"
"Excuse me?"
"Fucking hurry up!" She was trying my patience at this point. "Don't turn this into a fight."
Katie emerged from the bedroom in a navy blue, high-waisted dress. I don't know women's fashion. It was tight around the tits and was loose—flowed down.
"I'm hideous." She pouted. "Maybe I shouldn't go."
I shook my head, damn near falling over myself to stop her from running back into the bedroom. "You're gorgeous."
"You're just saying that so I won't change again."
Smirking down to her, I put her hair behind her ears. What she said was true. "You look beautiful. Please don't change...your clothes." I hoped she'd get my hidden meaning, and I hugged her, making sure to be gentle.
It's weird, but she's gotten so much bigger within the past couple of weeks. We're fixing the guest room—making it a nursery until we know what we're doing. We can't seem to agree on anything, especially when it comes to living arrangements. But she pushed—to make a home for us here—to stop us from fighting about that.
I wish she took the same liberties where our other problems are concerned.
But then life would be boring, right?
"You sure?" She slouched, almost as if she was trying to hide the bump.
"Yes," I laughed, nipping her lips. "You're going to be the hottest chick there."
She giggled, looking down into her purse. "We have to pick up my mom and Gil."
"Gil?" I asked.
"This new guy she's dating . . . I told her you got a limo—"
"Oh, and now she wants to hitch a ride wit' us? Okay." I grabbed for Katie's jacket. "The limo was for you and me—maybe we could do something after dinner." Although I kept talking and holding up Katie's coat, she pretty much ignored me.
"I'm not wearing that one." She waddled away from me, grabbing a sweater.
I gently spanked her ass on the way back to get her attention.
She swatted my hand. "Behave, Mr. Cullen."
"Yeah, right." I pulled her ass into my dick. That was my hope for tonight. A nice dinner, the limo—we can't have champagne, but we can have ginger ale and pretend. It was supposed to be romantic—get me laid since Katie hasn't put out since she first moved in . . . three weeks ago.
But who's counting?
I mean, where the fuck was the passion that got us into this mess in the first place? Where had that gone?
"I hope your mom doesn't get on my case." That was another issue altogether.
"Don't be surprised if she approaches you." I grasped her hand. "We ready?"
"Don't let her approach me."
I stopped to stare at her. "You've been ducking the woman for weeks. Nothing short of God being in that restaurant is going to stop her. You reap what you sow."
She stared up at me in disbelief. I knew that face. "You're going to let her berate me in public?"
I rolled my eyes. "She's not gonna make a scene. Relax."
"Still . . . I'm—I'm not your wife, but . . . you could at least take my side—"
"I'm neutral, okay? I can see your side and hers. She doesn't care if you're constipated, have low self-esteem, hate me, or are down in the dumps—whatever your problem is for the day. All she wants is to chill, and you're content to go to work and hide in this place." I widened my arms.
She snorted. "Yeah, take Mommy's side . . . Screw me. I'm just carrying your child and went through some major life changes recently. But take her side—"
"Don't—" I grasped her bicep and let go, about to lose my temper. "Can we just go have a nice dinner? I know you're hellbent on being a bitch to everyone, but fuck!"
She gasped.
And I didn't give a shit.
"Let's go." After another slap to her ass, I ushered us out of the apartment.
Ever since she moved in . . .
Katie went from being normal to what she is now—a bitch. She used to be sweet, my Katie. Even if we only saw each other in passing, she'd always been kind—nice to everyone around her. Who the fuck was this person? Sadly, I had no idea. Even sadder than that, I wasn't too fond of the person I was getting to know now.
But I needed this to work. I needed to put my whole heart into trying to repair us.
"Do you love me?" I asked once we were in the limo.
"You know I do."
"You sure? Because it doesn't feel that way." Content, I stared out the window.
I felt her grab my hand. "I've been doing my own thing for a long time. I'm—I'm trying to adapt."
"Why do you even have to try?" I didn't understand that at all. "Try for what?"
She sighed, rubbing her stomach.
"She kicking again?" I asked.
"Like Chuck Norris on speed." Katie took my hand, placing it to the lower left side of her abdomen. It was a flutter, a soft knock against my hand.
It made me chuckle. "Hey, baby girl…"
She kicked again.
"Keep talking," Katie said softly. "She can hear you."
I leaned over to rest my head on the bump. "I don't know what kind of parents you'll be born to . . ." I decided to spill my guts to my kid. "I thought everything would be so easy. I love your momma . . . but things just aren't working out." I felt Katie weave her fingers into my hair. "I hope there will be a wedding. Mommy doesn't wanna get married until you're out. So, you'd be there . . ." I tried to think of other things to say—in the only way I knew that wouldn't result in a fight. "I'm changing—doing a whole bunch of things, so you can have a dad you'll be proud of. I just hope Mommy's proud of me, too. You know?" I tapped that area, and I got a knock back. "Yeah, you get it. It must be tough hearing us fight all the time . . . Hopefully it won't be that way after you're born."
"Sonny . . ." Looking up, I saw tears streaming down Katie's cheeks. "What's wrong with us?"
I shot up to gather her into my side, placing my lips into her hair. "I'm doing everything you asked me to . . . there are things I can't change. I'm only asking you to meet me halfway."
"I'm 100% against that part of your life." She sniffled. "It's hard . . . I don't expect you to understand. But I told you . . . I can't be the wife you want, the kind a man like you needs."
"Stop." I kissed her cheek. "I'm not asking you to give up your career, be barefoot and pregnant in my kitchen, making me pasta. This isn't a movie of the week. This is us—we can make our own rules, but you're not trying to hear anything."
"No." She squeezed my hand. "You need someone you can open up to—be totally honest with, talk about things, and that's the role the wife usually plays. I'm telling you. I don't want anything to do with that side of you. You're so aggressive; it scares the fuck out of me. One day, one day you'll go too far."
I snorted. "Not for nothing, if I haven't taken a swing at ya yet . . ." She didn't find my joke funny. "You know I'd never hurt you. Stop with that . . . We also have to talk—not argue. Please." Unfortunately, I didn't know what to say. I had no idea how to sell myself to her any more than I already had. "We love each other. The rest? It shouldn't be this hard."
She didn't comment, crying quietly and wiping her eyes.
"You hate the thing that much?" I asked, already knowing the answer.
What I told my brother weeks ago still applied. Katie did everything to remove herself, and I was wrong for trying to condemn her to it. I'm selfish for wanting to fight for it. And if she wasn't pregnant, if the baby definitely wasn't mine, would I have pushed this hard? Or would I have let her go? Which is what I'd intended to do years ago.
"I'm scared of it—of what it means. Sooner or later, your father's luck is going to run out. He'll take my dad, you, everyone around him down with him—including your mother. Bella won't be able to survive that."
"No offense, but you don't know dick about what my mother can or cannot survive." I snorted without humor.
"You're such a fucking momma's boy. How can I compete?!"
"Please." I put my hand up. "No one's asking you to compete. And how can I be this momma's boy?" I asked. "You tell me . . . since we got back together, it's been all about Katie. Not once have I seen my family or have been to a Sunday dinner. Just stop."
"You see this?" She gestured between us. "I can't say anything."
"Neither can I, it seems . . . But you don't know what you're talking about, so stop." She really had no fucking clue, and there's nothing I hate more than people harping on shit they don't understand. "I operate a night club. I own the brokerage near the restaurant—I'm taking the bar exam. What's illegal about those things?"
"Don't bullshit me."
"I'm not." I let go of her hand. "Be stubborn, keep going like this, and you'll destroy us—whatever we are." Pushing my hair back, I faced her. "I'm not asking for the moon here. All I want is for you to pick out a house, somewhere here in Brooklyn, stop being so fucking bitchy and picking on everything I do, and just—go to lunch with my mom twice a month. Open up, fuck. You were more down to chill with everyone before we got back together."
"It was different."
"How?" I asked.
"I wasn't one of you guys. Now I'm enmeshed in this world, and I know I'll see a whole new side of it."
I rolled my eyes. "My family is my family. You've known them all your life. You're acting like I'm going to push out into the street and have make bones or something," I laughed.
"What?"
"Nothing," I sighed. "But you pushing them away now is just . . . it's the dumbest shit I ever heard."
"Now I'm dumb?"
"It—what you're doing is dumb. Don't switch my words around," I said as we came to a stop in front of Lauren's apartment building. "And you want to be my mother's friend. Trust me. Your mom doesn't seem that excited about her." I touched her stomach. "She'll help—my mother will bend over backwards to help us, whatever we'd need."
"Your family buys affection. Bella just wants to throw money at us."
"Bullshit!" I shouted. "That's a fucking lie and a half and you know that."
"However," she spoke over me, "my mother is stoked about the pregnancy. You don't know what you're talking about. Mom even mentioned coming to stay with us to help after—"
"What?" I snapped. "Fuck no. That is not happening."
"Bet you wouldn't mind Momma Bella sleeping on our couch."
I groaned, holding my breath, hoping I'd keep it together. "First of all, your mother only comes around when it suits her, when she can get something out of the deal. Your father cut her off a long time ago...It's like she's reaching for scraps—"
"You don't even know how hard Mom had it after Dad kicked her out. That's why I never wanted anything from him—"
"Kicked her out? Maybe your father has too much class, won't tell you what really happened back in the day. It'll make your victim, Saint of a mother look bad—" I gritted my teeth. "It's not my business. But do you know your parents at all? I know years ago, you thought this way, but...haven't they ever sat you down?" I asked, and now I was trying to keep a straight face. "Aro got married in secret, but it wasn't—"
"My father only thinks about himself. You know that and I know that." She looked out the window.
I didn't see any point in trying to argue with her, not while she was being this stubborn.
"Why are we even trying?" she whispered.
I didn't know either, and I was suddenly scared to open my mouth.
"If this doesn't, if we don't work out, how will we—"
"It has to work out—we just need time." My stomach was a knotted mess. "Don't talk like this." I touched her lips. "We need time to get to know each other again. I promise to keep my work out of our house—out of our relationship. But I need you to stop bringing up my occupation to win fights." I called a spade a spade. She throws out that wild card whenever it suits her. "What I do to make money, doesn't affect me—us as a couple—at all."
"You're right. We're different now. I'm different, things are different." She shrugged. "We both finished school. I met Raul, got married. We were poor, lived more like roommates, and I was sleeping with you every once in a while . . . yet I was content."
"Well, you can't have us both now. Fuck!" I stared at her in disbelief. "Do you hear yourself? You're insane." I wondered if this pregnancy was truly fucking with her head, or if she was just this goddamn spastic nowadays. "Baby." I grasped her hand. "Maybe you should go see someone. Maybe—maybe counseling? I'm not opposed to that as long as you keep my job out of the convo."
She dropped my hand. "I'm not crazy. I was just thinking out loud. That's what I did when I was with Raul because I couldn't seem to stay away from you."
"Now you have me . . . You have me all to yourself, and you're still unhappy."
"I mean, I've been far removed from it all. It's a lot to get used to...adapt to." She melted into my side. "I love you like crazy, but what if love isn't enough? Furthermore—"
The door opened, and I was saved—saved from having the dreadful, yet inevitable, conversation.
"Hello, hello!" Lauren announced.
I grinned, taking her hand and helping her inside. "Good evening."
"Don't you clean up nice." She touched my tuxedo jacket. "This is Gil."
"How you doing?" He was balding and middle-aged, and I was sure Aro would get a kick out of him as he shook my hand.
"Not too bad," I lied, all smiles.
Conversation between Katie and me came to a complete stop. We had small talk with her mother and this cat. He's an insurance broker for a moderately sized firm out in Queens. They met online through Plenty of Fish, and after countless emails and texts, here they are—on their third date.
Katie and I smiled and nodded, while she'd poke my side every few minutes. It made me smile, our tiny interaction. We were thinking the same thing, and I just knew we were. This guy was boring, and her mother will eat him alive.
Were Katie and I doomed to be more like roommates, too? I really didn't want that. Then again, if we could just have sex all the time, and not talk? We'd get along just fine. Or, if we could just get along period . . . We goof, have laughs, and some crazy hot sex . . . when we have it. It's the rest—making decisions, those life decisions. And then there are those times where it's just hell. I'm pissy and she's snotty—and it's all because we put each other off.
"I love you," I whispered into her ear. We were outside the restaurant now, and I didn't want anything to look amiss between us.
She placed her hand on my cheek and a sweet kiss, one that was just too short, on my lips. "Love has never been our problem."
I swallowed, nervous suddenly.
Katie turned to her mother. "Why don't you guys go ahead?"
Lauren nodded, grasping Gil's hand. "Let's go—you can meet AJ." They continued to talk as they left the limo. As soon as the door closed, I turned to Katie.
"Don't do this. We need more time..."
Her face crumbled. "Whatever happens . . . I just—I need us to stop fighting, or we need to figure things out before the baby comes."
"So…you're just ready to give up?" I refused to tear up, trying to ignore the lump in my throat.
"No. I don't know what I'm saying."
"Tomorrow night—tomorrow night we'll try this again, a date. We'll go on a date, just you and me." I kissed her temple. "I think if we get to know each other again—"
"We know enough." She sniffled. "I want you. I want us to work. I just don't think we will." She wiped her face. "I'm scared of settling, but you—we won't be happy. You'll find someone else, but we'll be married, and—"
"Stop." I shook my head, not wanting to look at her, sick of the shit she was saying. "If you can't trust me—"
"I want to, but I can't."
"Just—just stop crying." I snatched up a tissue to help her out. "You need to have more faith in me. I'm willing to do anything it takes—anything, Katie—to gain your trust, although I never gave you a reason not to trust me. I'm willing to do anything to make this work."
"You shouldn't have to. I'm just saying."
"Katie—"
"This is just as shocking to me as it is to you," she said. "I really thought—I thought once I left Raul, once I moved in—"
"Everything would fall into place."
"Yeah." She curled into my side.
I kissed her hair. "Let's just live—put all decisions on hold for a while. We'll get things ready for the baby. We'll do baby things and spend time together. We'll only focus on Sonny and Katie, and forget about the world. I'll take time off—"
"Ignoring a problem won't make it disappear."
"I know that." I scratched my head.
"For now, we should—we should put a hold on things. I'll sleep in the guest room. We'll try to get along without actually being together. We're stuck with each other now." She placed my hand on the bump.
"Stuck together." I hated the way she said that, but in an odd way it was comforting. "We're breaking up—now, in a fucking limo? We just got back together." Weirdly, I wasn't angry, just sad, because I'd known—felt it in my bones—that this was coming. Some time, during the last few weeks, I accepted it . . . to an extent. It was still incredibly disappointing as I thought she was what I had been missing from my life. It turns out...that void I feel is still there, and I can't make heads or tails of it.
"Hey . . . she's yours, ours. I won't take her from you. Know that from now. We can be parents without being married."
I had nothing to say—didn't know what to say.
"And . . . I don't know. If I can stay until I find an apartment—"
"You don't have to go anywhere." I looked into her eyes, trying to see Katie—the real, MY Katie. "You really want this? After all this time—after everything?"
Her lip quivered. "All I know is we can't keep going the way we have been. Maybe if we're friends...I don't know. That spark will just come back to us? But I doubt it will. I'm sorry."
I nodded, because I completely agreed with her. I am who I am, and no matter how much she tries to change me, I'm different—I'm not seventeen anymore. Neither is she, and I can't change her either . . .
"We have the potential to be best friends—we always were. If we stopped, went back to the way things were, without Raul in the equation, of course. We could—what we'd have could be great." She smiled through her tears. "Right?"
I shook my head. "Now I don't understand. You're absolutely correct. We're pretty much best friends who fuck already, and—do you have any complaints as far as sex is concerned?"
"Not at all. That's—that's the best part of this whole thing. The sex? I'm just being honest." Her eyes trailed down to my cock.
"Then...why aren't you fucking me?" I asked. "I'm here...you can...help yourself." I gestured to my dick. "Hey, we might not be as bitchy."
It's ironic, totally fucking ironic, that she's living with me, and yet this the longest—fucking longest—I'd ever gone without pussy. I was sure it was fucking with my head already. Before, I craved a connection, but I was never starved for affection. And I never tried—nor did I ever see something with another person that wasn't there. I always thought it was Katie, that was why I never had the urge to seriously date, or even date in general. Those countless conquests served their purpose, and then I'd move on.
Guess I just haven't met that special someone yet.
I thought it was Katie I'd been missing . . .
"I feel gross." She grimaced. "I meant usually...like our sex is always good. I always come, and you are incredibly good-looking."
"So, we have no problems in the bedroom. I'm not complaining either," I pointed to myself, "when we actually do fuck it's amazing. We're best friends . . . we're having a child together, but us actually being together can't work? How? Isn't all of that a contradiction?"
She was quiet and searching my eyes now. "Can we move away?"
"What?" I was confused.
"We leave everything behind. You can take the bar exam in any state. I can teach anywhere." She sounded desperate. "We can live in a suburb in Pennsylvania. You walk away from—from your father's business. You give up Eclipse—you and me. We start a life together somewhere away from all of this."
"I took an oath—"
"And that's more important than us?" she whispered.
"I can change everything about myself, except that one aspect, which doesn't even define me." I was exasperated again. "That won't hinder my ability to be a good husband and a good father. And I can't walk away even if I wanted to. You know that."
"I'm sorry. I don't want to be followed by the F.B.I. for the rest of my life. I don't want the glitz and glamor, or to be a widow, or to have to pick up and hide one day—go to your trial, or your funeral. I want a husband—I want a house, and our daughter. I want simple things."
"You wouldn't—"
"You can't even promise me that shit won't happen." She was correct. "And as much as I want to, I can't overlook it. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry."
"Me too," I whispered, feeling very low.
"If you spoke to your father—I'll even talk to mine. There might be a way. We can move—get away, maybe you can get out."
"I don't want out, but I would—for you—if I could. Again, there's no—absolutely no—walking away. If I had the choice and you gave me this ultimatum, I'd do it—I'd say fuck it all, and we'd move wherever, as far away as you wanted. I'm willing to give you everything I have, including myself, but you want the one thing I can't give you. Why? Why can't we just live and be together, and see where life takes us? We could have a great thing—"
"You want to be Boss one day, and you will . . . I don't even know how I'd feel if I took that away from you." Her tone was hushed.
"I don't. I'm content right where I am. I fly under the radar because I'm just a capo, basically a nobody."
"A nobody. Yeah, right. Our fathers are sitting back these days while you pick up the slack."
"I don't want to talk about that anymore. If you wanted to be my wife, I'd tell you anything you wanted to know, but you don't, and I don't feel comfortable discussing that shit." I groaned, rubbing my forehead.
"You don't trust me either!"
I wasn't going to answer that. "Where does this leave us now?"
"It's like there's a war in my head." She was crying again. "I feel I can't live without you, you, Sonny. Yet, I can't—we can't—" Her body was racked with sobs.
"Shhh." I held her close, knowing exactly how she felt. "Same rules still apply. You want me, I'm here—I'll always be here."
My stomach rolled with nausea at the thought of my life going back to the way it was. Katie would be a friend, the mother of my child, but that's about it. I didn't want to care about dating and other broads, or getting laid, but . . . yeah. Katie was right. I'm at this point in my life where I need someone in my corner. I want to settle down, although I'm scared shitless of getting to know someone new. I wanted, hoped, and prayed that Katie would be that person for me.
"We can't keep doing this."
I kissed her cheek. "I mean, if you change your mind. You're right. We don't have to be married to be great parents."
"We'll always know each other."
"At least until this kid's eighteen." I pushed her hair away from her face. "I love you." That one fact remained true. Maybe I wasn't in love with Katie anymore, but I still loved the fuck out of her.
"I love you, too. And . . . I think—regardless—she'll be proud of you."
"Thank you," I sighed. "You're really breaking up with me? You're done?"
"I'm sorry."
"Me too." And I really was.
We gave ourselves a few minutes where we didn't say anything. I'm sure both of our minds whirred with fear and the unknown—scared of what tomorrow or next year might be like—while we tried to calm down.
When Katie's nose wasn't as pink, we left the limo.
La Bella Italia was filled with many familiar faces. The big banquet hall held practically everyone I knew. It was the same scene as Kylie's party weeks back. Only, this was a sit-down dinner.
We went to my parents' table first. Dad was busy stuffing his face huddled and whispering with Aro. Mom and Alex were engrossed in conversation, and Uncle Carlisle was playing with my aunt's hair, content to stare off into space.
"Hello!" I announced, leaving my arm draped around Katie.
"Hi, Dad."
"Look at you." Aro got up to hug her tight, but I didn't see Lisa.
"Where's Aunt Lee-Lee?" I asked. My aunt doesn't exactly like this crowd either, but she'll always make an appearance, especially if Lauren was going to be here. What Aro does doesn't affect their shit, although she hates his "job", too. They live and love and are pretty-fucking-happy as far as I can tell.
"She's late—had a work thing, but she should be here soon." He pulled me into his side. "How's things?" He kissed my hair.
"Eh." I didn't want to lie to the man.
"Sonny." Dad reached out to shake my hand.
I bent low to kiss his cheek and then Mom's. Standing straight, I looked down to my mother. She was trying to ignore us—or mainly, Katie.
"How you feelin', hon?" Dad smiled at Katie.
"Oh." She rubbed her stomach. "I'm hangin' in—you know." She looked to my mother. "Bella," Mom's head whipped to her, her gaze ice-cold.
"So lovely of you to join us," she said, and the gauntlet had been thrown down.
"Great dress," Katie said.
Mom smiled, not saying a word.
"O-kay . . . this is awkward," Katie whispered up to me.
"We're, uh—" I spoke up, although I had no idea what to say. "Katie had an idea." And I had everyone's attention at that table now. "We haven't had anyone at the apartment lately . . ."
"Oh, I thought Lauren was helping you get the nursery ready?" Mom asked.
I peeped Dad pinch my mother's hand.
"She helps when she can," Katie said.
"We haven't done much of anything with the room yet," I was fast to say. "We just had it painted. Otherwise, it's empty."
"Not for long." Katie leaned into me.
"I see." Mom smiled, backing off.
"What was Katie's idea?" Dad asked.
"Um...She wants to make a feast—a small party." I lied through my teeth while Katie's nails dug into my forearm.
"That's fantastic." Dad banged the table. "Isn't it, Bella?" he whispered something in her ear.
"Sounds wonderful," Mom replied. "I look forward to seeing what you've done with the guest room."
"Oh, it's nothing special." Katie waved a hand. "Like he said, we only had it painted."
"Your brother and Amelia are over there." Aro pointed. "They saved youse seats."
"Thank you." And he had no idea just how thankful I truly was. "See you guys!" I placed my arm around Katie's shoulders, taking her away.
"What the fuck? I can't cook—you know that."
"But I can," I sighed. "Just—relax. I had to say something, and we eventually have to tell them what's going on with us."
"I didn't think of that." The tears threatened to spill again.
"We're fine." I didn't know if we were, but I didn't want her upset.
"Jesus." She stopped us, and I continued to stare down at her.
"What?"
"Look at them." She turned to meet my gaze. "I don't know whether to want a cigarette or pull you into the bathroom."
I smiled, still unaware of what she was talking about. "We can definitely do the latter."
She giggled. "I love you." Then her face crumbled.
I held her cheeks. "Forget about everything . . . just be Katie, and I'll be Sonny, and we'll have a good time." I was aching to let everything go—just be. "You know I love you, too."
She pulled on my tie, and my lips met hers. This kiss was different. It wasn't filled with passion, more like regret—sadness.
"Come on." When we started walking again, I finally saw what she had. My eyes landed on Damion and Amelia. My brother looked like he was trying to eat her face, while Anthony and Kylie were just fucking staring at them. "Geez," I laughed.
"Right?" Katie snorted.
Without anymore fanfare, we took our seats at the large round table. "What's up?"
"Thank God you're here." Kylie touched my arm. "Maybe they'll stop."
"I'm enjoying the show." Ant stood up to slap his hand to mine.
"Dame?" I raised a brow.
He placed a soft kiss on Amelia's lips, and then turned to face me. "'Sup?"
I shook my head, shrugging my shoulders. "You tell me." It'd been a while since I'd seen him. He listened to Dad, never stops by Eclipse anymore, and I haven't been going to our parents' either.
"We're good," he spoke for the both of them. "School's good."
"Right," I said, looking back to Kylie. She was guzzling what looked like an alcoholic beverage. "What are you drinking?"
"A Sex on the Beach."
"Even her drinks are sexy." Anthony winked at her, lifting his glass. "To sexual beings everywhere."
Kylie gave Ant her attention. "So, you've never done it before—like received it?"
"Received what?" I asked.
"Don't," Dame said. "Just don't."
I didn't, my gaze falling on Amelia. She looked gorgeous in a low-cut black dress, and if I leaned just a bit I could see just how tight and short it was. "How are you?"
"I'm great, Santino." She added extra emphasis on my name. "How are you guys doing?" She faced Katie. "I'm Amelia—Um, we didn't really meet the last time I saw you." She put her hand out. "You're Katie?"
"Yes." Katie smiled, shaking her hand. "You're Damion's girlfriend." Now she put extra emphasis on his name while she squeezed my knee, and I had no idea what that meant.
Amelia nodded, looking to Dame. "I am." Then she sighed, coming back to Katie. "Congratulations by the way. Did you guys set a date yet?"
I felt Katie's eyes on me. "The baby's due the middle of December," I said.
"No, I mean—the wedding?" she asked.
"We—we're just focusing on the baby stuff right now." I squeezed Katie's hand.
Damion nudged me with his foot under the table.
I ignored it as we all fell silent, except for Anthony and Kylie. They were giggling, but when I heard "anal sex", my head whipped to them. "What the hell are you guys talking about?"
"Kylie, um, your sister has, uh, certain curiosities," Amelia told me.
"What?" I asked.
Katie started laughing, giggling away with them. "I'm surprised you've never done it."
"Just because I'm . . . you automatically assume?" Anthony smiled. "I'm a pitcher, not a catcher, but that doesn't mean it's off-limits either. The opportunity just hasn't presented itself yet. Eric likes to catch . . . We haven't been together long. I'm young and I don't sleep around—"
"You're such a fucking liar," Damion laughed. "Dude's a ho." He jerked his head.
Anthony gave him the finger. "A blow ho." He blew Damion a kiss.
My brother caught it.
"I think it's so cool," Kylie said. "I wanna meet your boyfriend."
My cousin's lips drew a tight line. "One day."
"What's cool?" Amelia asked Kylie.
"The gay thing—not the other thing," my sister giggled.
"The other thing—it's not that great," Katie said.
"You've done that?" I inquired, looking to Katie. She sure as fuck didn't do that shit with me.
"From what I hear! No, I've never." She pushed my hand off her shoulder. "Oww."
I combed my hand through my hair, actually wanting to leave. My gaze fell on my other cousins—Hanna and Carli. Neither one had a date and looked to be going shot for shot, sitting adjacent to Carlisle and Alex's side of the table. That looked like a table I should be sitting at. This one…they were all too happy for me.
"I've never done it either," Amelia admitted, laughing around the rim of her glass.
"But guys like doing it?" Kylie slurred.
"Kylie…" Dame stared at her. "Come on. Think. Guys have cocks…I'll venture to say that any warm, wet, tight…orifice—"
"Orifice?" Kylie asked. "Or-a-fice? What's that?" She moved her arm with a flourish, spilling her drink.
"It's a hole, you moron." Anthony chuckled.
"Warm, tight orifice." My sister thought that was hysterical, holding up her cell phone. "I'm gonna ask Gio if he likes my—"
"No drunk sexting!" Amelia stole her phone away.
"How many have you had?" I reached for Kylie's glass.
She pulled it away. "I'm wit' Dad and Mom, my family, and—and Anthony is my date. I can drink as much as I want." Kylie's always so used to over explaining, finding excuses and squashing arguments before they start—she pleads her case before any of us can bitch. She'd make a good lawyer, too.
"Yeah, chill out," Ant said. "There's food." He gestured to the array of appetizers. "Go get a drink. You're tense."
"Let's go." Dame sat up. "Let's go to the bar." He was talking to me but stared at his girl. "You want something?"
"Another Appletini sounds good. I really like them. Thank you."
He kissed her forehead, leaving his chair.
"You want anything?" I asked Katie.
She shook her head, grasping the water pitcher to pour some.
I took it, doing it for her. "A soda—something?"
"Sprite would be nice. Thank you." She gave my hand another squeeze; meanwhile, she looked to be doing well suddenly, and I was . . . "I should find AJ anyway. I bet he's busy, but…" She trailed off.
I sighed, which was more of a groan, as I followed my brother to the bar. Once there, I wanted a bottle of something, I wanted to confess—tell him everything that had been going on. It'd been a while since we chilled together. No matter how annoying he is, or how much we fuck with each other, he's still my best friend.
"A shot of Jack." He tapped the bar, hopping onto a stool.
"Two," I said.
"That's for you. I'm not drinking."
"You're not?" I was surprised.
"I'm nursing beers . . . that's not really drinking." He was quiet.
Despite that shit, once those two shots were on the bar, I tossed them back in succession. "Fuck."
"Another Jack and a Coke back," he told the bartender. "You good now?"
Unsure if I'd ever be "good", I asked, "Things going well with this chick?" as I jerked my head.
"We're exclusive, and that's cool for now. What's up with you and Katie?"
"I—" I wanted to try and explain, but Lauren joined us.
She stood next to Dame, smiling back and forth between us. "Hello."
My brother didn't say a word.
"It's been so long." She touched his cheek.
He flinched away. "Don't touch me."
Lauren was taken aback, and so was I. That was rude. "O-kay . . . I haven't seen you in a while. I just—you're all grown up." She stared up at him.
He smirked down to her. "And you're all—" He bit his lip.
She leaned into him, and I couldn't make heads or tails of their interaction. Although it was highly entertaining. "What?" she asked, as I drank my third shot.
"Old?" Damion asked, and I nearly choked on the liquid. "Jenny Craig isn't working as well as it used to, huh?" He had a straight face—wasn't even fucking around.
"Damion!" I coughed, unable to clear my throat. She was—after all—well, she was going to be my mother-in-law. No matter of family gossip or who doesn't like her, she's still Katie's mother and should be respected as such.
"Is this her?" Amelia came out of nowhere, and it was like watching a train wreck.
"It is." Damion's reply was short.
Lauren still looked dumbfounded. "Excuse me." She placed her hand on her stomach. "What kind of way is that to greet me?"
"She looks like a pedophile," Amelia whispered.
"What the fuck?" I stared at the empty shot glass, wondering what was in it—what I drank, as I had no idea what was going on.
"Who are you?" Lauren asked Amelia.
"His girl. His dick has my name on it now . . . maybe you need to step off."
"Whoa!" I got between them. Lauren was behind me, while Damion held Amelia in front of me. "What the fuck?"
Damion and Amelia shared a look and then burst into laughter. "I'll be back in a few minutes." He kissed her hand.
She pulled him down, kissing the fuck out of him before she left.
When I turned, Lauren was nowhere to be found.
"What was all that?" It was a scene to me, but it looked like no one else saw anything—no attention was drawn to us.
"Lauren hits on me whenever she sees me. Amelia's . . . territorial, I guess."
"That makes her a pedophile?" I asked, leaning into him. "Did'ju fuck Lauren?" My tone was hushed. "You rag on me about older women, but what are you? The old-lady whisperer? My limit's like thirty-five, bro."
"Old-lady whisperer." He was still laughing his ass off. "Coo-coo-ca-choo."
"Seriously." It wasn't really funny. It was kind of gross, to me anyway, but who knows what gets this lunatic off anymore?
"Heaven holds a place for those who prey . . . hey, hey, hey," he sang.
"You sure you're not drunk?" I asked, "singing the oldies and shit?"
"No…Amelia's drunk—pay her no attention." He waved a hand, previous amusement gone.
I shook my head, snapping my fingers for the bartender. "Just keep them coming."
"Shit is that bad?" Dame asked, wearing a smile and sitting next to me again.
"Shit is that good?" I tilted my head back to the table. His smile was just too big for him.
"Yeah," he whispered. "Things are fucking amazing. I've never—never been this happy before in my life. I love her—I can't even bring myself to lie to her. I'm thinking Christmas. Three months? That's a semi-respectable amount of time."
"For what?" I sipped my Coke.
"To propose?" He was still fucking smiling. "We haven't gotten to I love yous yet, but they're coming. I have to bite my tongue every day."
"You're serious?"
"As a heart attack—fuck it. I'll have one of these." He pointed to my shot, and the bartender was fast to serve him.
"Damion, you hardly know her."
"I know enough," he said, and there it was—that phrase again, knowing enough.
"Does she know about the deal you have with Dad?"
"Shhh." He looked around. "I'd still feel the same. I'm not doing this for the money."
"Ha!" I snorted. "It's one helluva'an incentive, though. You also knew about the dough before—"
"I'm not. Dad can keep his cash."
"Yeah." I rolled my eyes. "I'm just saying...You didn't go into this with a clear head."
"She's—she's amazing." He wore a silly grin. "She totally gets me, too, and she's patient—sort of," he laughed. "I keep wondering how I got so lucky. I mean, she knows about us, our family. She's down with whatever."
"Okay." I decided to take his word for it. "If you decided you wanted to be involved—"
"I don't, but if I did, she said that was my business—a choice I had to make. She's wonderful, and the sex—Sonny, I've never been fucked this way my entire life."
"I hate you," I said.
"Why?" He stared at me. "You have everything you ever wanted now. Things are changing for the better. We're growing up and moving on…You're with Katie. You're having a baby—"
"Who are you?" I grimaced.
"Me." He squeezed my shoulder.
"Well, you're different." I furrowed my brow, wanting my cynic of a brother tonight—someone to be miserable with. Then I felt bad, shitting on his jovial mood. "Seriously, though . . . Good for you." I patted his back. "You're in love...God bless."
"Thank you, but I'm the same, just happy."
I nodded. "I'm not."
"That's apparent now . . . What's going on?" He leaned into me. "You can tell me."
"Things aren't working out." I drank my fifth shot. "Unlike the amazing Amelia," I was sarcastic, "Katie can't accept certain things."
"You said she couldn't. You knew she wouldn't."
"I was tired of being away from her. I was selfish, and I pushed, and here I am—thirsty and hungry for love, her love, so much that I deluded myself into thinking I couldn't live without her." I rambled, my brain finally feeling a bit foggy. "It felt great to get that out." I actually smiled.
"Whoa...I get it, though. You guys were in love with the idea of being in love—with each other."
I widened my arms. "I'm fucked—utterly and completely fucked . . . But I'm having a kid." I lifted my sixth to toast that shit.
"Maybe you should slow down." He reached for it.
Knowing better, I let him drink it. "There's not going to be a wedding. We're gonna work things out as they come, I guess—raise the kid together but separate."
"I thought you guys would at least last a year."
"Awww...thanks." My tone was sarcastic.
"All that was for nothing?" he asked.
I nodded. "Nothing." Suddenly angry, I stiffened—holding my breath and hoping it'd ebb.
He huffed. "You wanna get outta here? Go blow off some steam somewhere?"
"Nah." I drank my soda.
"You're tipsy—not thinking straight. You're—no doubt you're upset with Katie. You shouldn't go home—be alone with her."
"I'm not. I'm upset with the situation. I can't hold anything against her." It was the absolute fucking truth.
"She'll get a ride with Aro." He placed his hand on my forearm. "I heard you got a limo?"
"Yeah."
"Bro, let's do it up. Fuck. We can take baby girl with us, show her a good time."
I smirked at my brother. "Take Kylie out?"
He shrugged. "She'll be with us and Ant. We'll take her to Eclipse—what's going to happen? She's plastered, won't even remember anything tomorrow."
"What about your little boo-boo?"
"She'll come, too. This shit is boring. We'll eat, and then you'll have an emergency at Eclipse."
I raised a brow—that shit not sounding too bad. "I can't. What if—"
"You're not going to fuck things up more by having to work." He hit my arm. "She knows you actually run it—operate Eclipse."
"True." I stopped talking when someone nudged my other arm. Turning away from Dame, I saw Brenda—one of the waitresses. We've fucked in the past, way back in the day, and as recently as last month. She's a knockout, a redhead, two years younger than me, still working on a degree in finance, and she's into some kinky shit.
"Knew you'd be here." She placed the small drink tray on the bar.
"How are you?" I asked.
She nodded. "Better seeing you."
I hummed, low and under my breath. "Bet tips are good tonight."
"They are," she said. "I'm about to take my break." She looked around us. "I'll be in the back room—in five minutes." She propositioned me. I knew what that was—an invitation to fuck. Brenda walked away, swaying her hips, turning to wink back at me.
"What was that about?" Dame asked.
"Nothing. Let's just go eat. We'll chill another time." I snapped my fingers. "Can I have a Sprite?"
Damion sighed, asking for Amelia's drink as well. "She really wanted to see Eclipse."
"Who?"
"Amelia—fucking Kylie, too."
"No way," I said. "Dad would chop my balls off and feed them to me."
"How would he know?"
"He'd know." I grabbed my shit and left the bar. "You're not supposed to chill there either."
"True." He put his arm around me. "But like I said, how's he gonna know? They'll be drunk in about an hour, and then they'll rush home to fuck—just like the rest of us. Dad talks a lot of shit. But he'd love it if Kylie didn't come home—stayed here in Manhattan with her brother," he laughed, leaving me to take his seat. "She can sleep on my floor."
"Who?" Amelia asked.
"Ky."
"We're going out?" She blew our cover before we could even plan anymore.
"No, not now," I smiled at her.
"Not you," Dame said. "That doesn't apply to the rest of us."
"What's going on?" Katie asked.
"Nothing." I stuffed a mozzarella stick into my mouth. "Eat," I told her.
"I ordered you the beef," she said. "It's steak—nothing exotic. You'll like it."
"Cool." I wanted to go back to the bar, or… "I'll be back."
"Um—"
I left the table again, needing to get my mind right. Going toward the back, I stopped myself from going into the break room—deciding on the bathroom instead. Technically, Katie and I weren't together anymore, but that didn't mean dick. My heart was still with her, and I couldn't—not when there's a tiny shred of hope of us working shit out.
Caius was at the urinal, and I went to the sink to splash my face.
"Rough night?" He walked over and washed his hands.
I leaned mine on the sink. "Understatement."
"That thing?" I knew what he was talking about, Joe and his family. "I had someone take care of it—while I knew we'd all be here."
I didn't make a comment.
"It was the best thing. We all have alibies. Right?" he smiled, patting my back. "And I'll take care of that fuck tomorrow. It's gonna be a robbery gone bad—staged and shit." It sucked because . . . in this moment, I could get into something like that.
"Good to know."
"You're not upset with me, are you?" He cocked a brow. "I mean, that shit should have been taken care of weeks ago. We were planning, but then I didn't hear from you."
I shook my head, even more upset with myself. Other shit has just been more important; meanwhile, no one asked questions. Joe Sr. approached Dad last week, in which Dad told him some shit about them going on the lam. Supposedly, shit got messy out in Cali. His sons had been gone for two weeks already . . . Maybe that's why Caius got it over with.
"Good. I'd hate it if we had problems." He waved a finger. "Daddy's shining star."
I stood to my full height to face him. "What the fuck's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing." He smoothed down his jacket. "You're your father's little moneymaker, but we know certain shit—you're not into it."
I grasped onto his collar and pushed him into the wall. "You don't worry about what I'm into—"
He pushed me away from him. "You think you're so tough . . ."
"Try me," I said.
He laughed, and then winked at me before he left the bathroom. `
Eventually, after about ten calming breaths, I went back to the table. The food had arrived, and I didn't have the stomach for it.
"Are you okay?" Katie whispered, and I couldn't believe she was okay. Maybe being around everyone worked for her, like I thought it would work for me.
"No . . ." I chewed, thinking—racking my brain. "Kevin called out sick. Momo's tending bar." She likely had no idea who Momo was—any of them.
Damion caught my gaze.
"Oh." Katie continued to eat.
"I might have to go to Eclipse."
She nodded. "Right." Now she looked upset, but I doubt that it was about us, per se.
"If you'd rather I didn't—" I actually hoped she'd ask me to come home, say we had to talk some more.
"You have to work, you have to work." She shrugged.
"Okay." I pushed my plate away. "You'll get a ride home with your father?"
She swallowed her food. "Yeah."
I turned in my chair to face her, not caring about the others at the table. "Tell me not to go." That meant more than just going to Eclipse—to me anyway.
"Why?" She looked confused. "If they need you at the club…you have to go."
"No—"
She took a wary glance around us.
"We'll talk more tomorrow?" I acquiesced.
Katie nodded. "Yeah."
I kissed her cheek, searching her eyes, silently begging her to . . . tell me she couldn't live without me again, tell me she loved me. "I'll see you later."
"You want me to wait up?"
"No," I whispered, leaving my seat. "You rest, baby."
"Hey." She grabbed my hand; I thought this was it—a small grin appearing on my face. But it was for appearances' sake that she nipped my lips. "Be careful."
"Call me when you get home."
"I will," she promised.
After saying a quick goodnight to my parents, telling Dad the same lie, I jumped into the limo—told the driver where to go, and that he was to go back to the restaurant and wait. I sent Katie a text. In case she didn't want a ride from her father, she could take the limo.
She never responded, her cell likely on silent in her purse.
Nevertheless, I greeted my employees as I made my way back to the office. I didn't stop at the bar, just wanting and needing to be alone. Quite a few of the guys were here, but those guys—they're low men, associates, not members of the inner circle. They obviously weren't invited to La Bella Italia.
My crew was here. I've been having Mike chill at the club when I'm not here. I still have yet to find a manager. Lately, I've been splitting my time between Eclipse and the brokerage, and I make sure to be home early—for Katie. My schedule has been full, but it's not as tight as it used to be. And it'll be lighter next week, when Anthony starts to manage the brokerage. With a baby on the way, Dad said it's best I slow down for a while, which I obviously have. I need to study for the bar. It's about time I take that shit anyway, even if I was only doing it for Katie at first.
After sitting at my desk, I decided to make next week's schedule, and then I did payroll. That shit doesn't consist of much, and I only wasted an hour's time. I thought about doing inventory. Lori used to do it, and I hate doing it. It needs to be done. I was supposed to do it a while back. She had this system on the laptop, the one she had access to, and deleted it all—erased the entire hard drive—as a last fuck you to me. I've been ordering the liquor blindly ever since. Then when we run out of something, I send a minion to the liquor store.
Katie texted me back. She didn't get my message until her father dropped her off at the apartment. She thanked me for the gesture, though.
Still down in the dumps, I opened the pull-out couch—wanting to take a nap, get an escape from my mind, an excuse not to do inventory again. Maybe I should have just gone home, but then Katie's there, and I needed the time alone.
Just as I fanned the sheet, there was a knock on the door.
Grasping my nine, I went for it, opening the door for Layla. "Everything okay?"
"Um." She was dressed, not fully covered—wearing lingerie—but she wasn't naked. "I made you these." She went to hand me a tin.
"Oh." I took it from her. "What are they?"
"Cookies—chocolate chip."
"Thank you."
"I can get you some milk..." She offered.
"No," I said. "These are great. I'll save them for later. How's Jason doing?" I asked about her son.
"Excited for Halloween," she giggled, walking farther into the office. "He doesn't exactly know what it is yet, but…I got him a pumpkin costume."
I smiled. "That's cool."
"Are you okay?"
I nodded. "I am . . . besides, shouldn't I be asking you?" It's been a while since she had that altercation with Nicki. But she's not the same, and I wondered if she'd ever be the same. I don't have the heart to fire her, however, I hear she's looking for another job. She's not into stripping these days, takes waitressing shifts. She went back to dancing after she'd been attacked, but she wasn't making enough money—scared of the customers. It baffled me. She had all that money. Surely she could live off that for a while.
Although when she first came to me, she wanted to serve. It was my idea to have her dance, since I thought she had a decent body. She also looks very young, and these sick fucks like that shit. Layla—or should I say, Fantasia—was a hit from the first night she started. She's Aro's favorite. He's actually her bread and butter. I hear their interaction is completely benign in nature, though. He's not slippin' it to her, but who knows?
"I've been better . . . but life goes on, I guess." She looked to the floor. "You don't—you don't see me differently, do you? Like…dirty?" she whispered.
I shook my head, confused. Except for feeling really badly about what happened to her, I don't think, nor do I have an opinion about her at all. "Of course not."
"I have a lot of respect for you. Your view of me—it matters. I just wanted to make sure."
I nodded. "I respect you just the same."
She hugged herself. "I also—I came to give you this." Layla handed me a piece of paper. "It's my two week's notice."
"Oh."
"I heard you had to put it in writing." She pointed to it. "I got a job at the T.G.I. Friday's in Times Square."
"Wow. I bet you'll do great." I doubt she'd need money for a while. I gave her just over two hundred grand—to keep her quiet. Aro told me to give her half of that, but there was no amount of money to make up for that shit.
"The money you gave me…?" She grinned. "I, um, I put most of it away—I don't wanna see it. I don't wanna touch it. I met with your uncle . . . he put me in touch with this guy. I set Jason up with a trust. Neither one of us can touch it until he's eighteen."
"Really?" Most people would have gone on a shopping spree, got a car, a better place to live.
"Yeah. I'm thinking of going back to school, too."
"I'm happy for you." I leaned back, sitting on my desk. "Not—you know. It sucks, what happened? But I'm glad you're turning things around."
"Thank you." Her voice was suddenly filled with emotion. "You've been nothing but kind to me." She widened her arms. "Can—can I hug you?"
"Uh, okay."
She lightly wrapped her arms around me, and it was very friendly. "You looked like you needed one—a hug, too."
"I did, huh?" I laughed as she leaned away. Most of my dancers just think I need my weasel greased.
She giggled. "You're a great guy." Layla put her hand up, backing away toward the door. "Take care."
"What are you going to school for?" I asked, her presence occupying my mind.
"Business management. Maybe I'll run a club one day."
"Huh." I quirked a brow, staring at her. "What about this one?"
"What…about it?"
"Lori's gone," I said.
"Right. I'm sorry it didn't work out, but I heard—you're getting married, right?" She pointed to me.
"Just rumors," I whispered. "My ex . . . we are having a baby."
She gasped. "Congrats! That's so exciting! Cherish them when they're teeny." She squealed, which was kind of adorable.
"Thank you . . . but back to that other shit." I twirled a finger. "You'd get salary. Full medical benefits." I didn't know Layla from a hole in the wall, but I felt I could trust her a lot more than any other employee I had. "You'd run the bar . . . the girls would answer to you."
"Me?" She pointed to herself. "I wanna go to school for that stuff, but I have no idea—"
"You'd be making….ballpark? Two grand bi-weekly, but the customers have been known to tip as well. Like any other position, you treat them well, and they'll do the same—one hand washes the other. You'd be responsible for catering to their needs, knowing what the high rollers—those who drop a few bills in here a night—like."
"Oh my God . . . Are you serious?"
I nodded. "I'd train you. I know you don't know shit right now. I mean—about running a club. I need someone here for when my father or me aren't. Even when we're here, though . . ."
"This—this is an amazing opportunity, but . . . I don't know if I can do it." Her face fell. "I—I'm only twenty-one."
"So?" I asked.
"I mean, the older girls might not respect me. They don't now."
"They will," I said.
"Are you doing this because you still feel bad?"
"No." And I'd never tell her the true reasons why. She didn't need to know I had a hunch I could trust her. It'd be best to keep her on her toes. "I need an evening manager. During the day, you know whoever is bartending runs the show. No one's here during the day," I laughed.
"Maybe we can change that?" she asked. "Mr. Cullen, I—I don't know what to say."
"Brainstorm, think of ways to draw a crowd during the day."
"I'll do my best," she said.
I nodded. "Be here tomorrow at five. Wear something classy, a pantsuit, something just a little revealing. You know?"
"Of course." She held her stomach. "You think I can do this?"
"I do . . . I'll teach you everything I know, and…even so, I'd just be a phone call away if you ever needed anything."
"Thank you!" She jumped up and down. "I'll—I'll do my best. I swear it."
I nodded.
"Thank you! Really!"
I laughed. "You're very welcome. You're doing me a favor here."
"No way." She shook her head. "This is the opportunity of a lifetime." She had no idea what she was really agreeing to just yet. "Can I hug you again?"
I thought about it. She was leaving before, which was why I allowed it. "No."
"Sorry." She went for the door. "My God . . ." Layla was still in shock when she left. But she was only gone for two minutes before she was back. "Mr. Cullen?"
"Yeah?" I was still in the same spot.
"Momo told me to tell you that your brother's here. He said he already called your dad and gave him the heads up."
I sucked my teeth. "Where is he?"
"Private room number two."
"Private room?" I shook my head. "Okay. Thanks." I wondered what the fuck he'd be doing in a private room.
Instead of looking at the security cameras on the laptop, I just went there—didn't bother to knock and let myself in.
Damion was sitting in a chair, and his head didn't even turn my way when I entered. Of course, he was likely too engrossed with what was happening on the small stage. Amelia sat in a chair, while Misty danced on top of her.
"Whoa," I said without sound, slinking back and watching. Amelia was into it, running her hands up and down Misty's back, ass, legs . . .
But when she turned and caught my gaze, Amelia paused.
"I'm sorry," I said. "Please…by all means."
My brother turned to me and he had nothing to say. But I wanted to congratulate him—tell him he was the luckiest bastard in the world.
I took a seat next to him. "She's open?"
"Open?" Damion cleared his throat.
"A threesome?" I whispered. "You should—fucking go for it, dude. Use my office. Please. Just do it. Don't settle down before you've had two broads at once." Nearly pleading, I grasped his shoulder. "You've barely lived yet…"
Like Dad, I had some of those same fears for Damion. He just needs more life experience, so he can turn into an actual person—get out of whatever the fuck he's in, this limbo, confusion shit. He's my best friend. But the reason why I don't mind confessing whatever's plaguing me to him? Because whatever's going on in my head, it doesn't compare to the level of fucked up-ness that he's always got going on. For now. I have hope he'll grow . . . the fuck up.
His eyes widened. "This is just for fun. What the fuck? Threesome."
I put my hands up, wondering why he was upset suddenly.
"No one's touching Amelia. She can touch Mia, but—no. And stop looking at her." He snapped his fingers in my face.
I turned to smile at my brother. "If you can't take the heat . . . why visit the kitchen?"
"Amelia, you wanna fuck her—Mia, Misty?" Damion asked his girl.
"Fuck no!" Amelia shouted. "No offense." She looked back to Dame. "I thought you'd like it."
"I don't—come'ere."
"Damn." I hit his arm. "Relax . . . She did that shit for you. If you pushed, you probably could have had her eating pussy, too. Good for you." I really had no idea what to say.
"That was hot for like…one second." He put his arm around Amelia. "I'm sorry for yelling." He kissed her hair.
I laughed.
Her face was beet red, and she wouldn't meet my stare.
"You guys leaving then?" I asked.
"Excuse me." Misty held her hand out.
"Oh…" Damion went into his pocket, slapping a bill into her palm. "You did good."
Misty stomped out of the room.
"What's her problem?" I watched her go.
"Lucky I didn't fucking smack her," Amelia said. "We walk in, and she just—and he just—" She groaned and hit my brother. "Look at what you have me doing!" she screamed. "I'm a good girl. I don't do this!"
"Whoa….baby, relax. I thought you were into it."
"No! But if I have a choice—" she stood up, still shouting, "between her giving you a dance, or her giving me one . . ."
"Shhh." He pulled her back down to him. "I'm sorry."
Amelia was crying.
I scratched my head, having seen enough crying broads for one day. As a matter of fact, I had one at home—only she wasn't mine anymore.
"No!" Amelia left him again. "You're an idiot—a stupid, blind fool. Or, maybe you just have the emotional capacity of a fucking spoon! Can't you see?"
"See what?" Damion shook his head.
"I'm calling my ride—going home."
"No, wait—" he chased her out of the private room.
And I bet the only people who don't know that Damion and Amelia love each other . . . are Damion and Amelia.
"Morons," I muttered, going to the bar for a drink.
Thank you for reading.
Please leave me your thoughts.
See you Wednesday . . . We'll hear from Damion again.