“That’s what women do,” Kat says with a dismissive wave of her hand. “We cry on our besties’ shoulders when our hearts get broken.”
My heart squeezes. “In my defense, this is a tricky situation, Kat. Way trickier than Violet probably explained to you. My mom told me the other day she’s been dreaming of Beretta-O’Brien grandbabies. So, I think it was wise and considerate of me not to jump the gun and subject Amy to—”
“Screw your mother!” Kat says. “And screw Amy’s brother, too. From what I’ve heard, your girl didn’t demand you to put a ring on it! She just doesn’t want to feel like your hidden, guilty pleasure! And I can’t say I blame her. People don’t hide the ones they love. They shout about them from every mountaintop! So, if you’re not willing to proudly call that woman your girlfriend to everyone you know, not just to the group that’s most comfortable for you, then I think she did the right thing. Good for her.”
“Who’s this?” a female voice sings out, before I’ve decided how to reply to Kat’s disemboweling of me. A second later, the birthday girl herself—Louise Morgan—appears at Kat’s side, looking like an older, cookie cutter version of her gorgeous daughter.
Louise looks beautiful tonight, as always. Not to mention, a little tipsy. She’s wearing a glittering birthday crown atop her blonde bob, while holding a wine goblet in one hand and a bundled baby in her other arm—a baby who’s obviously Ryan’s, based on his reaction to the bundle.
“Helloooo, Colin!” Louise sings out gaily when she sees my smiling face. “How are you?”
“I’m good. Getting some advice from the Morgan Mafia. Happy birthday.”
“Thank you so much.” She giggles. “The kids surprised me with a full house as my birthday present!”
“So, I see.”
“I wish you, Matthew, and Zander could be here, too. Our family isn’t complete without all my kiddos.”
“I’m sorry to miss it. Fish and I have a work obligation in LA tomorrow. And I think Zander is in London with Aloha for some big event.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to imply I’m upset with any of you for not being here. I know you’re all busy. Just saying I love you, that’s all.”
“I love you, too, Louise.”
Bam.
I love you.
The minute those words glide out of my mouth, so fucking easily, I realize I also love Amy. Of course, I do. In a different way, obviously. But also, weirdly, in a surprisingly similar way, too.
All of a sudden, I realize Louise Morgan is Amy’s walking Pinterest board. She’s Amy thirty years from now. And even more importantly, Louise is the person who’s trained me, for half my life, to love someone who, on the one hand, feels like family to me—she’s been a second mother to me—while also inspiring lust in me, during my formative years.
I haven’t felt anything close to lust for Louise Morgan recently. As an adult. But back in the day? Hell yeah. And so did all the Morgan boys’ friends. In fact, growing up, Louise Morgan was the ultimate MILF for a whole lot of randy teenagers, a fact I know to be true because we all talked about it, endlessly. Fish, especially, had a massive crush on this woman, during his teenage years. And yet, we all still loved her like a mother figure, at the same time, and still do to this day.
So, if that’s the case, then why can’t I love Amy, in a similar way? In some sense, like a brother would, only in that I want to take care of her and protect her and fix all her problems . . . But also in a decidedly un-brotherly way, too. In the sense that I want to rip her fucking clothes off, every goddamned time I see her?
It’s a startling revelation to me. A new way of looking at things that makes everything click into place for me.
I love Amy.
I’ve always loved Amy.
And I always will love Amy.
And nobody else.
And I also want to fuck the living hell out of her!
Oh my God.
What more could a man possibly want, if not all that?
Amy’s words from the other day suddenly slam into me: “If you want me to be your actual girlfriend and shout from the rooftops about me, then let me know, and I promise I’ll give you a shot . . . if I’m not already dating someone else by then.”
Oh, no.
I’ve been such a fool!
“Gotta run, guys!” I blurt, interrupting something Kat is saying to me. “Happy birthday, Momma Lou! Sorry, Kat! I gotta go!”
“Wait!” Kat shouts. “I have more to say to you about this Amy situation.”
“There’s no need!” I shout. “I just figured everything out. I’ve got to hang up now, so I can call her and tell her I’ve been a fool and I love her to the moon and back again!”