Only One Mistake (Only One 6)

Max comes out of the kitchen. “They are doing shots of tequila in there,” he says, pointing over his shoulder. “And the timer went off.”

My mother claps her hands together. “I love you all already,” she says. “Let’s eat.”

Allison gets up. “Let’s eat.”

They walk out of the room, leaving Michael and me alone. “That wasn’t so bad,” he says, tucking my hair behind my ear.

“You missed the hard part.” I point at the couch where our mothers were. “Promise me something.”

“Anything,” he says, and looking into his eyes, I know he means it. He waits for me to say something, and all I can think about is kissing him. “Kiss me.”

He groans and closes his eyes. “Why do you decide it would be a good idea for us to make out in your mother’s living room?” he asks, and I laugh. “How about we put that make-out on hold until I drop you off at home?”

“Promise.” I put my hand up, and he slips his pinky in mine.

“Oh, you can bet on it,” he assures me and leans down to kiss my lips softly.

“They are making out on the couch,” I hear Julia say from behind me. “Looks hot and heavy. Should I break it up?”

“She’s already pregnant. He can’t do more damage than that,” I hear Alex say with a giggle, and I can’t help the laugh that comes out of me.

“Great,” Michael sighs, looking over my shoulder at Julia. “Let's get this over with,” he says, and Julia just laughs.

“Something tells me that everything is going to be okay,” she says to him, pushing his shoulder with hers.

Chapter 25

Michael

“Thanks for breakfast, Mom,” I say to her, putting my plate away in the dishwasher. “I hope I don’t vomit on the ice.” I look over at my father, who laughs as he picks up his coffee cup and brings it to his mouth, finishing it off.

“You’ll be fine,” she says, cleaning up the kitchen. By the time I rolled out of bed, she was already done making breakfast. My father puts his plate away and then walks to the door where he grabs his jacket.

My mother is slipping on her shoes when my father yells, “Let’s go, Alex,” down the hallway toward the closed bedroom door. We can hear her grunting, and I can’t help but laugh.

“Will you send us pictures?” My mother looks at me and hugs my waist. “I want daily pictures.”

“I’ll try,” I agree, kissing her head. Yesterday at lunch, it was such a surreal experience. I thought I was going to be a nervous wreck, but once we got all the talking out of the way, it was as if we did lunch every single week.

“Is she even awake?” My father looks over at my mother as the door opens, and my sister comes out of the room. She’s wearing yoga pants and a sweater and her black glasses.

“I’m up,” she mumbles. “Why are there so many fucking windows in this house?” she asks, rolling her suitcase behind her.

“Hey, Alex,” I chirp, putting my hands on my hips. “Want some tequila?” I ask her, and I can tell she’s glaring at me.

“I don’t know why you are on my case.” She pushes my shoulder. “I was doing it for you,” she says, and I throw my head back and laugh. “I was trying to make you look good.”

“You drank a bottle of tequila for me?” I point at myself.

“Yes,” she hisses. “And it wasn’t a whole bottle. It was half.” She folds her arms over her chest. “Julia finished the other half.”

“I told you to stop drinking,” my mother scolds her, and she puts her head back, looking at the ceiling, and groans.

“Are we not late?” She avoids the questions, and my father opens the door as the four of us walk out.

“You call me if you need me,” my father reminds me when he presses the button.

“God, you make it sound like he’s dying,” Alex says, and my mother slaps her arm. “He’s having a child. He’ll survive.” She shakes her head as the elevator gets there. She steps in, and we take the elevator to the garage where Matthew is waiting for them.

I hug my mother goodbye, and then Alex comes to me. “Don’t fuck it up,” she warns, giving me a side hug and then rushing to the truck.

“Is she going to throw up?” Matthew looks back at the car and then at us, and we both shrug. “We’ll see you guys in a couple of weeks,” he says, and I look at them.

“Give or take,” my father says, slapping my shoulder as he gets into the car with Matthew. I wave at them and get into my own SUV.

I put my seat belt on as I pull out of my parking space and call Dylan. He answers after two rings. “Asshole,” I say as soon as he answers the phone.