Infamous Like Us (Like Us 10)
Where’s Thatcher?
Why are they out of breath? Why do they look so fucking intense?
Questions swarm me, my pulse hiking up a million notches. “What are you guys doing here?” I sound accusatory. I cringe at myself, feeling dizzy with adrenaline. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way—I’m glad you’re here. Don’t you guys have a VIFM to be at?”
Banks hands Luna the to-go container, then passes me the smoothie. Everything feels tense. Banks is searching my gaze, his muscles flexed. Kits is standing like I’m on the brink of a cliff and he’s gripping my wrist for dear life.
“Yay food.” Luna hops off the bike. She makes an uh-oh face like she’s dismounted into a mess.
This mess is trademarked, certified Triad Turbulence.
Akara speaks. “The very important fucking meeting is not nearly as important as you, string bean.” His inaccurate (but cute, I’ll cop to it), nickname for me doesn’t sound playful on his lips. He’s too uptight.
“Kits?” My breathing is sporadic. “Banks?”
Don’t tell me…?
Do they…?
“Sulli,” Akara says with complete concern.
Banks’ gaze drops to my belly.
“Oh my fucking God,” I breathe. “He told you?!” I shout it.
I’m so stupid.
I cover my burning face with my hand as the gym goes dead silent. As heads turn. As athletes gawk again.
I feel my boyfriends’ comforting arms on my shoulders. I feel them shielding me, and with my free hand, I grab onto a waist. Must be Akara, since my fingers brush his clip of keys.
With an angered breath, I uncover my face. “Thatcher promised he’d let me tell you.” I lower my voice. “I need to go.” I try to push away from them.
“Where are you going?” Akara asks fast.
“To kick him in the nuts!” I don’t care that I yell it.
“You’re gonna have to kick me in the nuts because I forced it out of him, mermaid.” Banks looks remorseful. “Don’t hate my brother, please.”
I expel a pained breath. I don’t want to hate him. Dizzy again, I turn to Luna. “Is this a dream?”
She sticks her finger in her mouth and then pops it out like she’s checking the wind. “We seem to be in this universe.”
“Fuuuuck,” I exhale, trying to catch my breath. I look up at Banks. “I don’t hate him, but your brother is a big dick.” I blush. “Not because his dick is big—I’ve never seen it.”
Fuck words. I hate them.
Banks has a shadow of a smile.
Akara laughs a little.
It eases the tension, and I explain, “Thatcher told me I had until tomorrow night to tell you before he’d open his big fucking mouth.”
“That is a dick move,” Banks agrees.
Akara nods. “Thatcher is dead to us.”
Banks is in no mood for killing Thatcher jokes. “Says the guy who’d fall to his knees to be best friends with my brother again.”
Akara makes a face. “I would not do that.”
This is all fucking jumbled.
Luna eats a piece of sushi from the to-go container. “I’m supposed to meet up with Eliot and Tom. See ya tomorrow?”
“Yeah.” I hug Luna before she goes.
“Bye, Luna,” Akara says.
Banks nods goodbye, and Luna waves on her way out.
Akara scans the semi-public gym and the ogling athletes. “Let’s go somewhere more private.”
We end up in an aerobics room. Wooden floors, wall-to-wall mirrors, kettle bells, and ankle weights in baskets—I’m seated on a yoga ball. Bouncing slightly while my boyfriends tower above me.
Jeez, they’re tall.
I don’t really care to be the same height as them.
Tower over me. Protect me.
Please, always love me.
No matter where we go from here.
“You already know the truth, but I wrote this for both of you.” I hand them the letter.
Akara takes it first, but they read together.
Very quiet. All I hear is my heavy breath.
“That’s what Thatcher told you, right?” For a moment, I wonder if I’m totally off. What if I assumed wrong? “Right?”
Right?!
“Yeah,” Akara answers, giving Banks the letter. And Banks carefully slips the paper into his back pocket while Akara tells me, “We knew you were pregnant, which is why we left the meeting.”
The boss of SFO left his own meeting. My lips part in surprise. He could’ve just sent Banks, but he’s here too. Something surges strongly inside my lungs.
To have them both so fully—that means everything to me.
“I wanted to keep the baby,” I tell them before they can say a thing. My heart is lodged in my throat.
“Wanted?” Akara frowns.
“I think this might be a mistake.”
11
AKARA KITSUWON
Mistake.
Mistake?
That word…
It crushes me, and I feel myself clawing at the letters.
Banks breathes as hard as I’m breathing. Like we’re still racing after her. Like we’re still chasing towards Sulli.
“It doesn’t have to be a mistake,” I say tightly, throat knotted.
She bounces a little on the yoga ball and stares at the floor-length mirror. I think she’s studying her body. Maybe picturing her belly swollen and round. Or maybe that’s just me.