“It’s all up here.” Holden taps his forehead.
“What’s up there?” Oliver motions to Dare and Patrick, who are in the back, talking about something in hushed tones. “You guys think there’s anything in Holden’s head?”
“Like a brain?” Patrick glides into the main room. “No.”
“More than you have,” Dare says.
“Oh yeah? Should we put that to a test, Darren?” Patrick asks.
“I don’t know, Trick—” Dare says his friends nickname like it’s an eye-roll in audio form— “should we?”
They do this every day. Insist we call them by ridiculous nicknames. Then constantly throw their real names in our face.
Not that I blame them. Darren especially. It’s hard to make that name sexy.
Poor women trying to groan oh Darren.
Dare has a certain mystique. Yeah, it’s trying too hard. But they’re young enough to get away with it.
Holden’s friend’s.
This whole shop is Holden’s friends.
My little brother has the world eating out of the palm of his hand. And he uses all that charisma to piss me off.
“Skye’s the goth hottie with the big tits?” Patrick looks to me. “You finally fucked her?”
“Yeah.” Not that it’s his business.
“Nice.” He offers me a high-five.
I shoot him serious side-eye.
Holden takes the high-five instead.
Chase shakes his head. “Five minutes, then you’re leaving or working. Got it?”
Everyone groans—the way kids groan at teachers’ commands—but they do nod. Chase is a good boss. He commands authority well.
Not that I want to think about the implications.
“You know, you really are more of a Patrick,” Holden says.
“At least I’m not even more annoying that Holden Caulfield.” He rolls his eyes.
“You know what, you’re right. Trick is good. ‘Cause you only have one trick, then the ladies move on.” Holden laughs.
Dare does too.
“Yeah, and Dare works for you, because someone has to dare a woman to fuck you,” Patrick says.
He and Holden crack up.
Then the three of them are moving toward the suite in the back, trading barbs, cracking each other up.
Thank God. Holden is like a heat-seeking missile. He moves to the nearest person he can torment.
Skye is right. He means well. Deep down.
Very, very deep down.
Chase slides behind the counter. Oliver heads to the front. Motions come here.
I do. “How’s Ariel?”
“Didn’t you see her at the party?” Chase asks.
“She doesn’t tell me stuff,” I say.
He smiles. Beams, really. “Good. Happy. It’s getting close.”
“Not even two months,” I say.
“And she’s—” Chase chuckles. “Shit, that’s not something you want to hear.”
“It’s making her horny.” Oliver laughs. “She talks about it all the time.”
Chase blushes, suddenly sheepish. “It happens.” He presses on. “She’s getting an ultrasound tomorrow. It’s not bad. Standard pre-natal screening.”
“Will she kill me if I crash it?” I ask.
He nods she will. “She gets scared. An audience will only—”
“Yeah.” My kid sister wants her boyfriend’s comfort. She needs him, not me. If there’s any time where she should need him, it’s this.
But it still feels like a loss. Empty in some way I can’t explain.
I’m happy for her and Chase. I wish the circumstances were different, but I’m over the fucking moon. And, fuck, I’m going to have a niece.
It’s amazing.
I just—
It’s hard, respecting the lines they’re drawing. Respecting her boundaries. Her independence.
“You and Skye finally did it.” Oliver offers his hand to shake.
I take it.
“Congrats,” he says.
“Thanks.” I guess.
“You figure out what you’re doing with her?” he asks.
“Yeah, we’re…” Best friends. We’re always going to be best friends. Beyond that—fuck, I don’t know. I don’t know what she wants. Or if I’m capable of being what she wants. What she needs. “We’re getting there.”
He shakes his head that’s not good.
Chase backs him up. “You’re still going to the wedding?”
“Yeah.” It’s what she wants. And she’s right—she has to go to this wedding, or she’ll hear about it forever. I’m happy to be her shield. “Mack is her cousin. What choice does Skye have?”
Oliver nods maybe. “And you?”
“What about me?” I ask.
“Why are you going?” he asks.
“She needs me,” I say.
His expression gets incredulous. “But what do you want?”
“To help her,” I say.
He shakes his head. “Help her by keeping her away from that.”
“He’s right,” Chase says. “Sometimes, support doesn’t cut it. Sometimes, your friends or family need tough love.” His eyes flit to Oliver. That same knowing look of his. This guy’s drinking is going to catch up with him one day.
But that’s just Chase being Chase. His brother is an alcoholic. He’s paranoid about that shit.
“Don’t think about what Skye wants. Think about what she needs,” Chase says. “Figure it out before you lose her. Because—”
“You didn’t knock her up. You don’t have nine months to figure it out,” Oliver says.
Chase just chuckles. “It did help.”
“Don’t remind me,” I say.
“Let me ask you something, Chase.” Oliver turns to Chase, suddenly disinterested in my dilemma. “Does she like to call you Daddy?”
“Why would she—”
“Is it in a you’re the daddy of my baby kind of way? Or more of a Daddy, punish me kind of way?” Oliver asks.