Writing A Wrong (Write Stuff 2)

"I'm not going," she replied in a muffled voice beneath the pillow.

"Don't be a baby. You can't hide from Tony after one drink together. Besides, if I have to face Greg, there's no way you're getting out of going. I need you for moral support."

"Did you decide what you're going to do about that?" Olivia lifted the pillow from her face and propped herself up on one elbow.

"No," I sighed, picking up my phone to text Alec. I'd been so wrapped up in my fa

mily and the drama that came with them, I'd forgotten to call him.

Sorry I missed our call. Went to dinner with my family and time got away from me.

His reply came almost instantly. That's okay, beautiful. Candace took pity on me and invited me over for dinner when I dropped Lily off. How was the signing?

I stared at his message for a moment before answering. He had eaten dinner with Candace four times in the last ten days. A mature adult would give him the benefit of the doubt, but four times in less than two weeks seemed a little excessive. I could hear the jealousy dragon whispering in my ear, taunting me. I had met Candace a couple times and liked her, but I couldn't help wondering if she'd been waiting in the wings to swoop in and claim Alec. It was aggravating.

You still there? Alec texted when I didn't answer.

Yeah. The signing was good. My answer was passive compared to what I really wanted to say.

That's good, babe. I'm sorry I had to miss it. Eventually things will get back to normal.

Me too, I texted, pushing the dragon back to the pits where it belonged. I'm supposed to meet everyone for brunch so I better go. I'll call you later.

Okay, love. Tell your family I said hi. I love you.

Ok. Love you too, I typed. I tossed the phone on the edge of the bed in frustration. How ironic that Mom and Olivia were worried about me when my boyfriend was back at home spending every evening with someone he'd slept with. Someone he shared a child with.

"Everything okay?" Olivia asked as my phone slid off the bed and landed on the floor.

"Fine," I grumbled, stomping into the bathroom and slamming the door behind me.

I hoped the shower would cool me off, but my sour mood still lingered after getting dressed. Olivia remained quiet while she got ready. I rarely had bad moods, but when it happened I didn't want to talk about it.

Everyone was already waiting in the reception area of the restaurant when Olivia and I arrived. Greg smiled broadly, making a move toward me, but I squeezed myself between Mom and Dad as the hostess showed us to our table. I managed to snag the chair between them and thankfully Greg was stuck at the far end of the table. In my current state of mind I wasn't ready to tackle that problem. Olivia wasn't as lucky. Tony gave her no option but to sit next to him when he all but bumped Riley out of the seat next to her. The look on Olivia's face might have been funny if I wouldn't have been stewing over Alec.

Once the waitress took our drink orders, she gave us the lowdown on the brunch buffet before inviting us to help ourselves. Greg took the opportunity to saddle up to my side as I was spooning breakfast potatoes onto my plate.

"Morning," he said, picking up the spoon after I placed it back down.

"Hey." I shuffled sideways to add space between us. I tried not to be obvious, but I could tell by his puzzled expression that I wasn't fooling him.

"Do I smell bad?" He laughed, lifting the hem of his shirt for a quick whiff. I didn't mean to look, but my eyes seemed to move instinctively to peek at his well-toned abs. He smirked, catching me in the act as I shuffled sideways again. The back of my neck was becoming warmer by the second. My face was sure to follow. I ducked my head, absentmindedly spooning grits on my plate even though I absolutely detested them. I dropped the spoon, feeling ridiculous. Yesterday Greg could have shown me his abs and I would have thought nothing of it, but something had changed.

"Did you see they were having a Walking Dead marathon last night?" he asked, following me around the buffet station. During a long stretch of driving through Georgia we discovered our shared appreciation of zombie movies. Greg's tastes leaned more toward the humorous movies, while I preferred the gorier classics.

It was becoming more difficult not to answer him without raising his suspicions that something was wrong. The problem was Greg was easy to talk to. He just had a way about him. I wasn't ready to confront him, but I also didn't want the awkwardness to continue in front of everyone at the table. "Oh yeah? Damn. Olivia and I sat around watching infomercials."

"Informercials? What a waste. You missed the classic episode where the walkers overrun Hershel's farm."

"Rub it in even more why don't you," I said, sticking out my tongue at him as I dropped a couple pancakes on my plate. His eyes narrowed and focused on my mouth, making my stomach drop like a ton of bricks. There was no mistaking the look in his eyes. It made me wonder how long I had been missing the signals. Maybe I was subconsciously flattered and just didn't want to stop a little harmless flattery. If that was the case, I had been foolishly naïve. I left him at the buffet station without saying another word, still uncertain of how to handle my dilemma.

I sat quiet as a mouse at the table, barely touching my food. My dad surprised me by gently squeezing my hand. "You okay, sweetheart?" My mind had been so preoccupied with thoughts of Alec and Greg that the conversation going around the table sounded like a muffled hum.

"What's that, Daddy?" I asked, jumping slightly in my chair.

"I said, are you okay? You haven't touched a thing on your plate there."

Mom leaned across my body to whisper something in his ear. "Oh, I hope you feel better," Dad whispered, giving me a tender hug.