Attached to You (Carolina Rebels 4)

I’m left stunned, though. She has to have a lot of hurt or a big grudge or both to say something like that to me, right? She basically said he was terrible with her. A sinking feeling slams into my gut as I cut fabric for the lady with her, who by eavesdropping, I discover is her grandmother. Why couldn’t she have kept her mouth shut? I have enough doubts as it is without her unknowingly fueling the fire.

I’m tempted to text Brayden and say I ran into one of his ex-girlfriends. Where exactly would that conversation go? He’s already told me a different version than what Maryann said. Who’s to say he won’t continue with that? These thoughts plague me all day.

It may be Wednesday, but it sounds like Barday to me. I head straight to the closest bar after work. Things only worsen there. My first drink is in my hand for all of two seconds when a guy comes up to me, so close his chest touches my entire side. One glance at him is all it takes for my body to stiffen, not that he notices.

“Steven, what do you want?” Hello, bad decision, number I-lost-count.

“That’s no way to greet an old friend.” His grin makes me shiver from the creeps. Just because I liked him once, or at least liked him enough to fuck him, doesn’t mean he can’t gross me out now.

“Go away.”

His hand moves to rest on my mid-thigh and I immediately shove it off, which makes him laugh. He leans in even closer, his lips touching my ear and making me wish I could cut it off. “I’ve heard a rumor about you.”

“There are rumors about me?”

“Of course there are rumors about one of the city’s whores.” He says it so casually as if it’s so obvious and as if I should already know this. Steven was one of those guys who liked to call me names. Unfortunately, I let him get away with it far too many times. Between that and him knowing that I can’t stand it when he does call me a whore, he would say it even more.

“What’s the rumor, Steven?” I ask. The sooner I can get to the bottom of whatever he wants, the sooner he’ll go away.

“That my old whore has settled down. That you’ve turned into a one-man woman. That Brayden Hayes was the man to turn you.” Steven props an elbow on the bar and rests his chin in his hand. I want to smack his head right off. “Tell me, does Brayden know about your past?”

“What do you want if you already know the rumor is true?”

He grins. “To annoy the hell out of you.” With his free hand, he runs a finger down my jaw. “I have missed doing that.”

I shove his hand away. “Too bad.” There’s only so much I can take from Steven these days and I’ve reached my limit. Standing, I leave my half-empty glass of alcohol behind and head home.

How did I ever get involved with a guy like that? He has asshole stamped on his forehead. And that’s without opening his mouth. My forehead probably says worst decision maker, despite what Steven would say. He’d have whore plastered over my entire face. Sure, I’ve made some questionable decisions, including deciding to sleep around, but at the same time, I don’t regret that. I regret who I chose to sleep with more than the act of sleeping around.

I regret letting them get close. Duping me into thinking we were friends on a most basic level, or something more in some cases. I regret not paying attention to the subtle signs when I was being wronged. I regret my actions when it comes to guys like Zane.

“Hey, big fella,” I coo at Otis when I open the door to the house. He’s about the only boy I can count on these days. After our walk, I refill his food and water bowls and then head to my bedroom to change into something more comfortable. To further torture myself, I settle in on the couch to continue reading my mom’s diaries.

Half of the time, she’s complaining about how I slept around. The other half, she wished I’d get pregnant, only to turn around and say she would end up raising the kid because I’m clearly irresponsible. Thinking of my past choices, I shudder at the thought of having a baby with any of them. Only a handful would likely be good dads.

She talks the most about the quilt shop. How she thinks I’m mismanaging it, how I’m surely running it into the ground, and how pissed she is that Grandma left it to me and not her. Mom was never in the shop that I can remember. It’s always confused me why she wanted it so badly once Grandma died. Why the sudden interest in it?

Her diaries don’t tell me much.

I do uncover a horror. Did Dad read that she cheated on him? Did he make it this far? What am I supposed to do if he wants them back? Conveniently lose this one? Or maybe he knew and that explains his grouchiness. I don’t know.

After a few hours of reading and another walk with Otis, I head to bed. Seeing my birth control pills, I grab the package. I think it’s almost time to refill.

Wait. How is this possible? I could’ve sworn I was due for a refill soon, which would mean my period should be starting, but I just picked these up last week. Checking the date on my calendar, it was the same date as Brayden’s concussion. No wonder I forgot I picked them up.

But more importantly, where in the fuck is my period?

“Well?” she pushes. “Do you want kids?”

“Mom, what the fuck are you doing?”

I gulp. This is not happening. I don’t want kids. Mom never thought I could take care of one. I’m not ready for one. Brayden clearly doesn’t want one. No, no, no. Nope, I can’t deal with this. Brayden isn’t here. What am I going to do?

Without hesitating, I find a suitcase and start packing.

***

Deanna isn’t answering my texts. She’s had a full twenty-four hours to do so, too. Why would she ignore me? Things were back on track when I left. We’re out to eat at some fancy restaurant someone insisted on going to, but I can’t focus. Zane is on one side of me and EJ is on the other.