Hard Luck (Trophy Boyfriends 4)

He spins around to face us again. “You’re pregnant?”

“I’m not,” I joke. “She is.”

“You’re not funny!” Buzz shouts—a shout so loud and so over the top True actually starts to laugh, putting a hand over her mouth to stifle it so she doesn’t piss him off any worse than I already have.

“When were you going to tell me?”

“In nine months, duh,” Tripp repeats, amused with himself and obviously proud he’s in the know.

“Shut. Up!” Buzz pauses, the puzzle pieces of information clicking into place for him one at a time until finally, “Wait…you knew about this?”

Tripp’s massive shoulders rise up then come down.

“You fucker!” Buzz’s fist pounds down on the coffee table like a hammer, and for a split second, I swear he’s going to lunge at his brother. “Fucker, how could you keep this a secret from me?”

“Easy—I keep secrets because you keep calling me fucker.”

Buzz rolls his eyes. “What else haven’t you told me?”

“Oh, we don’t tell you tons of stuff.” Tripp whistles. “But this was a doozy.”

Buzz looks at his sister then, eyes sliding from her face to her collarbone. Down her chest to her stomach, where the telltale sign of a baby bump has emerged, small but present.

“Holy. Shit.” He can barely peel his eyes off that bump. “Do Mom and Dad know?”

“Not yet.” She hesitates. “I wanted…I w-wanted you both to know first. You and Tripp.”

“But you’ve been living here with him. When did you tell him? Did he know this whole time?” Buzz points a thumb at his brother, firing off questions. “Why didn’t you come live with Hollis and me? We have more than enough room.”

“Because…” True swipes at the hair in her face. “He’s hardly here, and I needed space. Time to think. He’s not all up in my business.”

“I wouldn’t be all up in your business!”

She gawks at him. “Are you insane? Your favorite thing to do is gossip and talk shit about people!”

“No it is not!” He’s objecting, but his guilty eyes betray him. “I hate talking shit about people! I’m nice!”

It’s true; he isn’t the worst considering he can be a real douche canoe some days.

Look at him now, running hot then cold then hot then cold. He hasn’t even reacted to the part about True having a baby; he’s more worked up about the fact that she’s living with the wrong brother and that we banged at his wedding and that he wasn’t the first to know.

“Trace, you play matchmaker with everyone—I didn’t need you trying to do it with me.”

She’s calling him by his real name again, and I hold back a grin.

“Um, newsflash—hellerrr, I don’t know if you know this, but I’ve repeatedly told José he cannot have your number. That is not me playing matchmaker—that is me being a cock-blocker.” He looks pleased with himself, standing tall, chest out. As if he’s done her a favor. “Little did I know you were already screwing! I feel so betrayed.”

He does everything but put a hand to his brow and toss himself on the couch.

“You are getting so off topic here. Mateo didn’t come here to tell you we’re having sex. We wanted to tell you we’re pregnant.”

“Pregnant,” Tripp repeats, biting into his celery.

“Pregnant,” Buzz says again. “Wait—you’re having a baby?”

“Oh my god!” True hefts herself off the couch and walks to the kitchen, clearly intent on ignoring her idiot brother and fetching herself some water. She takes out a glass from the cabinet and goes about the task while Buzz sputters in the living room.

“You’re pregnant?” Back to the shouting.

“Damn is he slow on the uptake.” I can’t stop the words from coming out of my mouth, and Tripp nods in agreement.

“So slow.”

“Shut up!”

“Hey, we don’t use those words in front of the baby,” Tripp scolds. “Clean up the language—we have to make some changes around here.”

“I’m not living here forever!” True singsongs at the sink. “I’m moving out as soon as I find a place.”

“You’ve not even looked at one single place.”

She shrugs to herself. “But I will.”

Little do they all know, I want her to move in with me. We may not be in a relationship-relationship, but she’s the mother of my first child and I’d like to think we’re…

I don’t know.

Falling in love maybe. Or will.

Or might.

Tripp stops chewing. “Don’t be so hasty. You don’t have to decide now.”

“I’m deciding right now—I’m moving out.”

“Take your time and think about it.” He winks at her, resting one arm on the back of the couch.

She rolls her eyes.

“She can move in with me,” Buzz argues, not wanting to be left out.

True snorts.

“Why are you like this?” he asks her, disgusted by her reaction to his suggestion, which—honestly? Is pretty damn great of him. The fact that they’re bickering over her living with them is great, actually.