“You look well and truly fucked,” Mia announces the minute I open my front door on Monday night for our Bachelorette viewing party this time. Danika and Abi follow closely behind her.
“Take that back,” I reply, pointing my finger at Mia. “Oh and hi, how are you? I’m great, thanks for asking.” She smirks at me but doesn’t greet me like any other normal human being would.
“Nope,” she replies, shaking her head. “You have crazy sex hair and lips that say you’ve been sucking cock like a lollipop. You’ve totally been riding the Thomas train. Did he at least make you toot? Is he still here? I’ll ask the man himself if you won’t tell me.”
“Mia!” Dani gasps as she drops down to the floor to pick Brody up from his mat where he’s sitting up happily bashing a drum Thomas bought him last week. “Stop it!”
“Well trains don’t squirt so toot is an acceptable analogy,” Abi adds, helpfully as they all make themselves comfortable in the living room. My stepmom Kristy emerges from the kitchen, wine bottle and a plate of snacks in hand.
“Am I wrong?” Mia says, not giving up. When both Abi and Dani shake their heads, agreeing with her, she turns her attention back to me. “So sit down and tell us all about it. Is he a grower or a shower? Because in my mind he just has to be packing down there. He’s way too charming and cocky to be small. And let’s be honest, after waiting so long between drinks, it wouldn’t be right for you to get one that doesn’t touch the sides.”
“Mia!” Dani gasps while Abi just laughs her ass off.
“What? I can’t be the only one that’s curious? It’s like she’s been tied to the bed as his sex slave the last few months. They both barely come up for air and I’m not the only one who’s noticed.”
When I finally stop laughing because honestly, there’s nobody else who puts things quite the way Mia does, I shoot her a knowing wink.
“A lady never tells.”
“You haven’t been anything close to a lady since the moment you were born. Spill, woman,” Mia presses. I look at Kristy whose eyes are dancing with amusement. Definitely no sign of this being TMI for her. Well, it would be TMI for anybody other than these women. The only other person I know that has no filter and holds nothing back is Mac.
“I’m sorry you feel neglected. Should I schedule you in my calendar in between sessions?”
“I think you should,” Mia replies, her lips twitching as she struggles to hold back a giggle.
“Add me in too,” Abi says with a knowing grin. I turn my attention to Dani.
“You too?” I quirk a brow, this whole conversation turning almost farcical.
“Nope. I’m good. Besides, I’m too busy practicing making one of these beautiful things,” she says, turning her attention to a yawning Brody in her lap.
I get up and walk over to her. “I think my boy needs a final feeding and then I’ll put him down for the night.”
Dani’s eyes go to my boobs before she looks back up at my face. “That still fascinates me. I’ve seen Zoe, Mia and Kate nurse their babies but the whole thing is truly amazing. And your rack is pretty damn impressive, Amz.”
I feel my cheeks heat and I bite my lip to hold back laughter.
“Dani, did you really just tell Amy that she has a good rack?” Abi asks, snickering away in the corner of the room.
“Just stating facts.”
“As you do,” Mia mutters, giving her sister the side-eye.
“So . . .” Kristy says, breaking through what might possibly be the most random conversation we’ve ever had. “Anyone for more food?”
Halfway through the program, my phone vibrates with a text.
Thomas: I’ve just made a ‘to-do’ list for tomorrow and you’re on it.
Amy: So I’m slotted right on in there between doing laundry and attending a client meeting?
Thomas: Actually, I’ve given myself the day off so you’re next on the schedule after having a shower and jerking off thinking about you, then driving over to your house to play with Brody, then ravaging you when he has his morning nap.
Amy: What if I already have a mommy-son date and won’t be here when you turn up?
Thomas: I could crash the mommy-son date. What do you say?
Amy: Only if I still get the ravaging afterward.
Thomas: That’s a given. The only variable in this equation is time. Me + you = guaranteed orgasm or your money back.
Amy: Prostitution is illegal you know.
Thomas: Only if you get caught ;)
Amy: You’re incorrigible.
Thomas: And you’re so irresistible that I’d willingly take the rap for any lewd acts I’m found guilty of.
Amy: I may need a demonstration of exactly what these lewd acts would be.
Thomas: I think the variable has changed and the equation has turned into multiplication.
Amy: What do you mean?
Thomas: Me + You = orgasms x at least 3.
Amy: That’s mighty big talk then, stud.
Thomas: Stud works ;)
Later on in bed, I pick up my phone to send Thomas a goodnight text when I see a message waiting for me from a number I’ve never seen before.
Hi, it’s Ryan. I know I’m probably the last person you want to talk to but I think we need to talk.
Checking the time, I make a snap decision—wrong or right, I’m not sure—and call him, knowing full well I won’t be able to sleep without knowing what he wants.
I call the number, my heart galloping like a racehorse in my chest as the ringing tone continues to chime in my ear.
“Hey, Amz,” Ryan says answering the call.
“Hey.” I’m not sure what else to say, I mean. It’s not like our last conversation could be described as pleasant.
“Thanks for calling me.”
“You’re the father of my son.”
He doesn’t say anything for a long time. So much so, I even pull the phone away from my ear to check that the call is still connected.
“Ryan?” I ask, failing to hide the uncertainty in my voice.
“Yeah, I’m here. It’s just surreal hearing myself being called that. It’s not exactly something I ever saw in my future.”
“Ryan, you’ve known for at fourteen months that you were a father to Brody. And I don’t believe that Sean would’ve held back in giving you updates—even if you didn’t want them—whenever you called him.”
“I forgot how astute you are.”
“I’m also happy, Ryan. I’m settled, Brody’s settled, I’m seeing someone who has been in Brody’s life since the day he was born and who I regard as the closest thing to a father he’ll ever have.”
“Sean talked to me about that,” he says quietly. “Thomas is a good man from what I remember of him.”
“He’s the best,” I say, thinking of him. Wishing he was here right now instead of staying at Cade’s. “But I know you don’t want to talk about him.”
“Did Sean tell you I’m sober?”
“Sam did. Good for you.”
“It’s a work in progress. Probably always will be,” he says softly.
“Ryan, what did you want to talk to me about?” He sighs down the line and I hear him take a steadying breath.
“This isn’t easy for me, Amz.”
“Do you think the last six months—hell, since the day I found out I was pregnant—have been easy for me? For any of us? You’re not the one who was left to carry a baby for nine months, give birth on the dirty floor of a grocery store, and be the only one here day in, day out while I raised our baby alone, Ryan.”
“I did what I thought was the right thing for everyone.”
“And it was, Ryan, because without doing that, I would never have had the chance to get to know Thomas better, and for him to become one of the most important people in my life.”
“I . . . I knew Sean would take care of you both. He promised me he would.”
“And he has. Everyone has been amazingly supportive. They’re my village and I wouldn’t have been able to get through this without them.”
“Yes, you would have, because you’ve always been the strong one. You’re one of the most independent and self-sufficient women I’ve ever met.”
“Ryan . . .”
“I wanted to know if you would let me meet my son,” he rushes out, making my breath catch, my chest seizing in shock.
Of course he wants to meet him. He has a right to meet him. But do I really want to open that door and the possibility of disappointment further down the line if Ryan relapses? And what about Thomas? How would he feel about all of this? In my eyes, he’s more of a father to Brody than anyone else will ever be. I need to take his thoughts and feelings into consideration here. We’re in a relationship, a serious one, one that is going places. I have plans—long term plans—for Thomas, Brody and I and I would never do anything to jeopardize that.
“You do know you just said all of that out loud, right?” he says, chuckling under his breath. “You’ve always done that. You used to do it behind the bar all the time.”
Oh fuck on a crap stick.
“I’m sorry, I’m just—”
“Processing the fact that I’m back, I’m sober, and I’m asking something you never thought you’d have to consider?” he says, sounding way more intuitive than I’d ever expect him to be. I can’t hold back my nervous laugh.
“Pretty much.”
“Look, Amz. Take a few days to think about it. Right now, I’m not planning on going anywhere. I’m staying with a friend of mine in the city and that’s about as far as I’ve gotten so far. But I don’t want to pressure you. I just want to meet the catalyst that led to me turning my life around.”
I can’t exactly say no now, can I?
“Okay.”
“Shouldn’t you talk it through with Thomas? Sean said things were serious with you.”
Shit, he’s right there.
“I’ll talk to him tomorrow. When would you want to meet?”
“Would next weekend be too soon? We can meet at the park or something, let Brody run around?”
I giggle at that considering Ryan should know from Sean and Sam’s kids that there’s no way Brody would be running anywhere at almost seven months old. “He’s almost crawling, Ryan, definitely not running yet.”
“Oh . . . shit. I’m clueless aren’t I?” I smile at that.
“Maybe a little, but you’ve got less hands-on experience at this baby thing than I do.”
“Thank you, Amy. You didn’t need to even call me and you still did. I would’ve totally understood if you never spoke to me again.”
“Let’s get through this first meeting, Ryan. We’re never going to be best friends and I may forgive you but I doubt I’ll ever forget, but that doesn’t mean I have the right to exclude you from Brody’s life. You’ll always be his biological father.”
“You’re a good woman, Amz. Brody and Thomas are lucky to have you.”
“That they are,” I say with confidence, believing it to be true but only because I’m just as lucky to have the two of them too. “I’ll text you about next weekend.”
“Sounds good. I’ll wait to hear from you. Bye, Amz. And thank you.”
“Bye, Ryan.”
Ending the call, I flop back down onto my bed and stare up at the ceiling, holding my phone in my hand as I run back over the conversation. It was civil, it wasn’t even hard. It was . . . normal.
I guess now all that matters is what Thomas is going to say.
“Tell me about Ryan.”
Cade’s eyes meet mine and I know with that one look that he knows Ryan’s back in town. “General fuck-up. Total opposite of Sean. He’s like quicksand compared to Sean’s steady rock. He left shortly after Amy told him she was pregnant. Hasn’t been back since.”
“Until now.”
He nods before lifting his bottle of Corona to his mouth. “Until now.”
“He’s a dickless wonder,” I grind out.
“He’s that, but he’s also an addict.”
“Was an addict. Apparently he’s been sober for a while now.”
“And the gambling?”
“What about it?”
“He got himself into a situation a few years ago, almost got Sean arrested. He started going to GA but fell off the so-called wagon so many times. Add in the alcohol, and you can see why I said it was the best thing for everyone when he left.”
I nod, taking all of this in. Everyone deserves a second chance but do I really want a man like that in Brody’s life? Would Amy? Do I even have a say in the matter?
“We all thought that finding out he was going to be a father would change him but he told Sean that he couldn’t deal with the pressure so he left. Literally disappeared the next day.”
“He asked about Amy and Brody. I think he might want to meet Brody.”
My friend studies me, respect and maybe even pride shining in his eyes as a slow grin curls his lips.
“How does Amy feel about that?” I don’t answer that one because I’m not sure Amy knows what she wants right now when it comes to Ryan’s involvement in her son’s life. All I know is that she wants me in her life and I’m damn well going to make sure I’m there for the two of them.
Cade opens his mouth to say something else but snaps it shut again before smirking at me. “Good choice. Amy is staunchly independent and I know she hates other people being in her business.”
“Yet, I’ve bulldozed my way in and refused to let her get rid of me.”
“She needed a man like that. God knows, Ryan would never have done the right thing by her.”
“Well, that’s obvious.” We fall silent, the low buzz from the TV commentators the only sound in the room.
“Is Ryan going to be a problem for you?” Cade asks. If I wasn’t thinking about it then, I definitely am now.
“Is he likely to be a problem?”
“Depends if he has truly sorted his shit out. Amy never wanted a relationship with him. It was never about that for them.”
My back goes ramrod straight when I realize where he’s going with this conversation. “Dude, I am in no way threatened by him.”
“Don’t imagine you would be. You’re ten times the man he will ever be, but unfortunately, that doesn’t change the fact that he’s Brody’s biological father. Nobody can change that.”
That truth sinks in and I focus my attention on the television and the Cubs game that we’re supposed to be watching, not sitting here talking about our feelings and shit.
I look over at him and smile. “How about we keep our man cards and never tell the women about this conversation?”
“Best thing you’ve said all night, other than when you offered to get me another beer out of the fridge. That was definitely a close second,” the smart ass replies, finishing his bottle and holding it out for me.
“Yeah, yeah, I get the hint.” I stand up and grab his empty, making my way into the kitchen to grab each of us a refill.
“Order a pizza while you’re in there, you know where the menus are,” he calls out.
“What am I? The house boy of Carsen manor?”
“That would probably involve a loincloth if my wife had anything to say about it, so how about we never speak of that again,” he says with a chuckle.
“Now that I agree on.”
The next morning I’m at Amy’s apartment a little after eight a.m. Closing the front door behind me, I walk in to find Amy sitting cross-legged on the couch in short pajama shorts, a tight white tank that does not hide anything, her chocolate brown hair piled into a messy bun on top of her head, her hands cradling her favorite coffee mug as she dazedly looks out the window.
This sight is not a new one. Amy is in no way a morning person. She takes a good twenty minutes after waking up to become what she calls ‘human.’ The first night I slept over, I was a little worried about her behavior, wondering if she was regretting sharing a bed with me, even if all we did was sleep. But with every morning I spent here after that, I soon learned that Amy Willis is hell for leather unless she gets her twenty minute wake-up time with a cup of steaming hot coffee.
As soon as the time is up, she’s absolutely normal, as if her pre-caffeinated zombie state was a figment of my imagination.
“Is it pre or post-coffee time?”
“Mid,” she says sleepily, dropping her head to rest on the back of the recliner just in time for me to lean down and lay a soft, gentle kiss on her. With one last lick of my tongue against her lips, I lift up slightly to meet her eyes. “Morning, sweetness.”
“Morning.”
“Fuck you’re adorable in the mornings.” Moving in front of her, I grab the cup out of her hands and place it on the table. Her growl of annoyance soon morphs into a squeak of surprise the moment I pick her up, turn, and sit her back down in my lap in the chair.
She opens her mouth—no doubt to complain—when I decide that silence may be golden, but showing my girl exactly what she does to me is so much better. So I tangle my fingers in her hair, tip her head and really kiss her good morning, loving the way she melts into me. She wraps her arms around my neck and matches my enthusiasm, that’s until she one-ups me and straddles my lap, grinding her hips against mine.
Neither of us take it any further than that, knowing Brody could wake up at any time. There’s nothing more frustrating than starting something and getting interrupted during the really good parts—let alone just as we’re getting to the great part—even if he’s probably the only acceptable reason to stop proceedings.
I ease back, holding her close and dropping my head to brush my lips against her bare shoulder.
“I think I might’ve found a new cure for my morning-itis.”
I lean back in the chair and meet her eyes, resting my hands on her hips. “And what’s that?” I ask with a curious smile.
“You.” She cups my jaw and kisses me softly again.
I chuckle while running my hands up and down her thighs, unable to resist touching her. “I’m here to be used and abused at any time, sweetness.”
“Such a sweet talker.”
“I only speak the truth.”
“I know. And I love you for it.”
I lean back against the headrest. “You know one of the things I love most about you?”
She tilts her head and moves forward, bracing her hands on my chest. “What’s that?”
“You’re just you. You’ve always just been you. You know I’m coming over and I walk in to find you wearing that, looking like that, being unapologetically you, and I love you all the more for it. Even back before we started when I was the cocky jerk not getting any, who loved to rile you up, you were always just you.”
She drops her weight against me, fortunately bringing her lips to within a whisper’s breath of my own. “Stop being sweet when I can’t show you appreciation for it.”
I quirk my brow and grin. “What kind of appreciation are we talking here? Because I was only telling you the truth but if there’s appreciation being offered, I’m not stupid enough to say no . . .”
Her eyes go half-mast and drop to my mouth before lifting back to meet my gaze. “Let’s just say that I’m in the mood to take my time . . .”
I must admit, I do consider risking Brody interrupting us—I am a male after all—but since I’ve loved every time Amy has ‘taken her time’ with me, I quickly shelve the idea.
“I need to tell you something,” she says, thankfully changing the subject and sitting up again. She purses her lips and her body tenses. I have a feeling she’s about to tell me something I’m not gonna like.
“Go for it.” I try to reassure her while hiding my own unease.
“Ryan text me last night.” My eyes widen but I tamp down that uncomfortable twist in my gut at the mention of Brody’s biological father.
“Okay . . .” She watches me—her gaze probing—as she sinks her front teeth into her bottom lip.
“He wants to meet Brody. I suggested next weekend.” I nod, my throat going tight.
Why is this affecting me so much? I’m in no way insecure about my relationship with Amy or threatened by Ryan’s reappearance. They had a one-night thing, a drunken romp that just happened to create the most amazing baby boy that I think of as my own. I should want this for Brody—I do want this for him—but part of me is uneasy about this whole situation.
On the drive over here, I made the decision not to think about the what-ifs or maybes when it came to Ryan Miller and his intentions. I can’t control something that is out of my hands but I can protect the two most important people in my life right now. I need to hold on to that thought and be there for Amy.
She averts her eyes, her hand tensing on my chest.
“Hey,” I say, placing my index finger under her chin to make her look at me.
“Will you come with me?” She looks uncertain, her teeth gnawing into her bottom lip like her life depends on it.
“Do you want me there?” Fuck I hope she does.
Her eyes widen and her brows go up. “Of course. I need you there.”
“Then I’m there. Anything you need, anytime you need it, I’m here for you, sweetness. I mean that.” Her response is to kiss me again, soft and slow, pouring everything into it. It’s then the sound of Brody babbling over the baby monitor fills the room, making us both laugh.
“You good?”
“You’re here, so of course I am.”
“Right,” I announce, lifting her up and off me in order to stop myself from saying ‘fuck it’ to interruptions, mentally calculating how long Brody might be happy talking away to himself.
I stand up, adjusting my insistent hard-on in the process before gently pushing her back down into the one-seater and returning her confiscated coffee mug.
“You finish your morning zombie routine, and I’ll go sort the boy out.” Her eyes go soft and her lips part and I know I just scored points with that.
“Okay,” she replies with a content smile. “Bring me our boy.”