Perfectly Toxic (Sterling Shore 9)

“Some guys just struggle to admit they’re in love, and some don’t really fall in love. Sometimes you think they’re in love with you, only to figure out you might have been kidding yourself.”

“Clearly he loves her. He’s not the same as he was when he first got home,” Rye goes on.

“Did he freak out when he found out she was pregnant? Did he thank God thirty times when he found out she wasn’t? Would he have left her if she really had been pregnant?” Brin asks heatedly.

Now they’re no longer arguing about me.

Shit.

Uncomfortable silence grows, and Brin stands up as tears waver on her eyelids. Rye looks completely caught off guard as he jumps to his feet.

“Brin, I—”

“Don’t worry about it. I knew kids were a possible no-go. I just never expected you to push me away at the thought of it. For some reason, I thought you loved me enough to stick with me through absolutely anything, no matter how scared you were.”

She turns and walks out, and Rye casts a helpless look at me. “Damn you,” he groans before chasing after her.

“That wasn’t my fault,” I point out as I stand up. “I need you to come with me,” I add, staring at Tag.

“Why?” he asks curiously.

“Because you’re the only one of us who has ever had a baby.”

“Hello…” Wren drawls, waving a hand at me.

“And been there for the actual baby stuff.”

Wren’s face falls, but I don’t have time to stir up more shit right now. We all have our own problems.

Tag follows me without further debate, and I watch with envy as he kisses Ash and his baby before grabbing up his son, slapping a kiss on the boy’s cheek that has him giggling.

“Where are we going?” he asks.

I toss my keys to him. “Wherever we need to. You’re driving.”

***

I’m a little worried about all the baby safety shit they have on this aisle. Plastic covers for outlets? What is a baby going to do with an electrical outlet?

Shuddering, I grab a handful of them, then I grab about fifty more, just to be on the safe side. It’s not like I know the exact amount of outlets in my home.

“It’s actually safer to use bandages over them,” some girl says as she walks over. “If one gets loose, the baby could choke on the plastic cover.”

Shit. Now I need safety advice on the safety things? Not good. Not good at all.

“Must be a lucky… sister?” she asks, eyeing my ring finger before finishing.

“Girlfriend,” I tell her, omitting the ex portion of that, because I refuse to think Bella is really done with me.

“Well, lucky girl indeed,” she says with a long sigh before walking away. Hell, I couldn’t even tell you what she looked like.

I resume looking for everything that says safety on it, then read if the safety device can become a safety hazard on my phone before tossing it in the shopping cart.

Bottles… Do I need bottles? Will Bella breastfeed?

I text her, even though I’m not sure if she’ll respond.

ME: Will you breastfeed?