Chapter 34

Gigi

“Hey,” I look up when something taps against my foot. “It’s the holidays. You aren’t supposed to be sad.”

I look over at my twin and smile.

“I’m not sad.” The response is immediate, but I know deep down it’s a lie.

Jameson has been gone for last three weeks, and I haven’t spoken to him in two days. The aura around my dad and Shadow is thick. I know something is wrong, but they won’t speak to me about it.

All I get is “It’s confidential club business.”

“Well, you seem mopey. We should go to Jake’s.”

I roll my eyes at her. “Right. Sorry.”

I watch as she tips her wine glass to her lips. Not drinking isn’t a problem for me, but the torture of knowing I can’t even if I wanted to is like sandpaper to my skin.

“How’s my nephew doing?” I smile and look at her only to find her eyes focused across the room.

Griffin.

Of course, her attention is with him even though she’s sitting and making small talk with me.

“They found out he has two heads. So it’s more like Siamese twins than just one baby.”

She smiles. “I bet he’s going to be adorable.”

“He has hooves like a zebra. Hurts really badly when he kicks.”

“Sounds good,” she says standing without warning and crossing the room.

I hear a chuckle on my other side, and I turn to find Lawson and Delilah cuddled up together. I’m hot with jealousy that they get to spend all of their time together.

“You know she doesn’t hear or see anything else when he’s within a fifty-mile radius,” Lawson says with a huge grin.

“At least it’s two heads,” Delilah teases. “That’s much better than two butts.”

I grin, grateful for her attempt to lighten the mood.

“So,” Delilah says leaning in closer to me. “You and Hound are like, together-together? I heard Misty talking to your mom, and Em mentioned that you haven’t hardly been in your room at home.”

My old reaction would’ve been to tell her to mind her own fucking business, but things have changed since I came home. Delilah, Ivy, and I spent the majority of the Thanksgiving holiday together. We shopped, hung out, and gossiped about everything. I felt closer to them than I have since junior high school.

“I miss him when he’s gone. Dad won’t let us share a room in his house, but for some reason, he doesn’t mind me staying here.” I blush but continue with my confession. “The bed smells like him, and I sleep better in his space than my own.”

Delilah snorts, and I see Lawson tighten his grip around her shoulders.

“Some things are private,” he hisses in her ear loud enough that I can hear him.

She shakes her head and kisses him on the cheek. When a familiar gleam hits her eyes, I know she’s going to spill.

“When I went on a girl’s trip with Ivy and a few girls from school during Spring break—” She pauses to laugh, and pink marks Lawson’s cheeks. “I came home early and found him asleep with a body pillow. He’d put a thong and a bra on it.”

Lawson groans, but refuses to make eye contact.

I laugh, low because I don’t want to draw any more attention to him, but it’s hilarious.

“That’s not the best part,” Delilah continues.

“I’m going to choke you with my cock later,” Lawson warns.

My eyes widen, and now the pink is on Delilah’s cheeks because we both know I wasn’t supposed to hear that.

Jealousy hits me again. I’d give anything to be choked with Jameson’s cock tonight.

She looks back over her shoulder at him, longing in her eyes. As if to seal the deal and guarantee the threat is carried through, she turns back in my direction.

She makes a motion toward her chest. “He had stuffed the damn bra cups with socks. I walk in, and he’s passed out with this pillow Delilah gripped against his chest.”

“I miss her when she’s gone,” he mutters.

“When’s the wedding again?” I say changing the subject, so Lawson is more comfortable and also because I sleep in Jameson’s shirts and sometimes his boxers just so I feel closer to him when he’s gone.

Delilah beams as Lawson looks down at the sparkle of her engagement ring.

“October,” they say in unison.

“That will make almost three years of being engaged. Why not sooner?”

“We want to get married here. That means graduating, and working around getting the new shop setup for Law.” She grins in my direction. “We didn’t want the stress of planning a wedding.”

Lawson sighs. “I told you, planning shouldn’t stress you out.”

Delilah shakes her head, and I can tell this is an ongoing argument with them. Clearly, he wants her to have his last name now.

“The dress has to be perfect, the menu, the guest list. It’s all very stressful when I want it to be perfect, and that’s impossible with school.”

He turns her face, the rough palm of his hand cupping her cheek with a delicate touch. Fuck, I miss Jameson.

“If it’s you and me, beautiful, then it can be nothing but perfect.”

I feel the hot tear roll down my cheek, and I attempt to dash it away with my hand before anyone notices.

“See,” Delilah says. “You’re so mushy, you’re making her upset.”

She winks at me, and I can’t help but laugh. She knows better. She knows all about my intense feelings for Jameson. I’ve had several lengthy conversations with both her and Ivy about how much I care for him and how terrified I am that if I tell him exactly how I feel that our entire world will shift and change. Things are good right now. Well, when he’s here they’re good, and I’m not going to risk upsetting our new normal.

My phone rings, and I scramble to get it off of the table. The bump I’m sporting these days is small, smaller than it should be according to the doctor, but it still gets in the way.

I activate the call, but frown when Facetime doesn’t activate fully.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

I nearly cry when I hear his voice.

“I can’t see you,” I complain.

I walk out of the living room without a backward glance. I only feel rude for the briefest of seconds, because this man has all of my attention.

“You know how it is. Technology doesn’t always work, but I can see you.” I smile not giving a damn that my hair is a mess. “Now show me my little boy.”

This happens every time he video calls. I tilt my phone and lift my shirt so he can see the evidence of his child.

“He’s getting big.” There’s pride in his voice, but also an unexplained strain.

“You haven’t called.” God, I sound like a controlling bitch. I shake my head and try to keep the tears at bay. I’m overcome with relief and if I’m being honest, anger at his silence for the last several days.

“We…” He pauses and clears his throat. “It’s been a mess over here.”

Over here. That’s where he always is. I never know if he’s even in the US. Most trips, I know, take him out of America, but he never tells me, never gives me details, never talks about what he’s done once he returns.

“I can’t wait to hold you in my arms.” Tears fall silently at his words. It’s Christmas Eve. He was only planning on being gone two weeks. He was supposed to be here with me.

“Wh-when do you think that will be?” I’m needy, desperate to lay my eyes on him, feel his skin against mine, have him hold me through the night.

“Is now soon enough?”

By the time the words leave his mouth, the bedroom door swings open and he’s there. He’s standing in front of me, looking exhausted and sad, but he’s still the most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on.

“Hi,” I say suddenly shy as I swipe at my eyes with the sleeve of my sweatshirt.

He doesn’t say a word as he crosses the room and wraps me in his arms. I don’t care about a single thing other than this moment. My ears register the soft thud of my phone as it hits the carpet at our feet, but I can’t be bothered to let go of him and find it.

“Fuck, I missed you.”

I sob against his shoulder, feeling silly for the tears now that he’s here. I don’t usually cry in front of him, and when I do, I blame it on hormones. I haven’t sobbed like this since the night he found me in Vegas, and I was struggling with the decision I had to make.

“I hate it when you’re gone,” I confess and hold him tighter.

“I know.” He consoles me with the warm rub of his palms over my back before dropping to his knees, raising my sweatshirt, and pressing his warm lips to my stomach.

My fingers tangle in his hair, but he doesn’t look up at me. His forehead is pressed against our growing child, and at first, I find it endearing, loving that he missed both of us, but then his shoulders shudder with his own sob.

He’s never gotten emotional like this in front of me. I’ve seen irritated, lustful, angry, but I’ve never heard the wretched sound that just escaped his lips.

“Hey.” I drop to my knees as well and wrap him in my arms.

“The girl.” He shakes his head. “We couldn’t save her.”

I feel his warm palms flat against my stomach.

“We couldn’t save the baby.” Another sob, one that matches mine at this exact moment. “We were too late.”

I hold him as he cries, as he tries to put himself back together. I hold him when he grows exhausted, and I don’t even let him go when he gets heavy and pulls me against his chest on the hard floor.