All of You, page 7
She stands in front of me and despite her slender build and how much bigger I am, it’s plain to see she’s the boss. And she isn’t budging until I do as she says.
My hand is near numb, which I’m more than okay with, and the skin is pink—or more like an angry red—when I pull it from the snow.
Tsking, she shakes her head some more as she wraps my hand. “You know, it takes two to get pregnant. She can’t lay this all on you.”
What? She thinks…
“Claire, I’m not the father.”
Her head snaps back, eyes boring into me. “Oh, but you two are together.”
“No, we aren’t.” The force of my words causes the ache to bloom tenfold in my hand.
“Oh. I thought…” She frowns at my hiss. “Come on, this isn’t working out here. We’re not doing this.”
She drags me by the elbow toward the house. It’s comical really because she couldn’t get me to move if I didn’t want to cooperate. But I do. She wants to help, and right now I am more than thankful for her concern and support.
We enter the house, and the bathroom door is now open and the light is off. The house is quiet with no indication if Britney is upstairs or down here. Claire leads the way to the kitchen where she takes out a first aid kit.
“Can you please let me take you to an ER?” She sounds like a broken record but two can play that game.
“No. I don’t need a hospital.”
It’s foolish of me, I should find out if there is a break or not. But it’s as if I believe nothing will be wrong if I don’t get an X-ray.
I slide onto the stool, grateful to rest my injured hand on the counter while she tends to the cuts and abrasions. She picks a few splinters out of my knuckle and the side of my hand, and I’m reminded of where we left off outside.
“What made you think we were together? That I was the father?”
She pauses, catching my eye but only for a second before she blushes and trains her gaze on the task at hand. “I thought you were a couple.”
“What? No. We’re friends and that’s it.” I steel my spine at the sting of iodine she rubs liberally over the small gashes. “She’s also my assistant but only because my sister asked me to give her a job.”
“Oh. You two seem close.”
“We are. She’s like a sister, and I can’t say no to my sisters.” My youngest, Savvy, springs to mind and how I’m going to be changing that soon.
“Then why did you say your sister was going to be upset with you? She can’t hold you responsible for Britney getting pregnant.”
For the first time since returning to the house, I laugh, and the release is amazing, loosening some of the tension in my neck and shoulders.
“You don't know Savvy. The thing is, Britney can't take care of herself, and if Savvy isn’t around to do it, she expects me to. She’ll see her friend’s pregnancy as my failure.”
“But why you?” Claire places an ice pack, wrapped in a kitchen towel, on top of my hand and starts to clean up.
“Britney’s my age, and my sister’s a genius. Like freakishly so. She graduated with her undergrad from Harvard at seventeen.”
“What?” She stops in front of the open trash can, incredulous. “No way.”
“Yeah. Brit was her childhood friend, the only one to treat her like a normal kid even though there’s nothing normal about her. So as Savvy moved quickly through elementary and high school, she asked me to look out for Brit. To do for her what I’d do for any of my other sisters.”
“How many sisters do you have?” She gives me a pill and a glass of water. “Take this for the pain.”
“I don’t need it.” I refuse to take either, and she releases an exasperated sigh. “Three sisters. There’s Cheyenne, me, Madison, and Savannah.”
A sly grin crawls over her mouth. “Your parents must really like US city names.”
I snort, nodding, impressed. “You caught on fast. And yes, Mama does.”
“Well, it was kind of easy.”
“You’d be surprised.”
“What happened with you? Why isn’t your name Lincoln or Orlando or something like that?”
I puff out my chest, releasing a lazy grin. “Hmm, do I look like an Orlando?”
“I think just about any name would work on you.” Is she flirting?
“Really?” I arch a brow, and her gaze travels languidly from my hand up my chest to my face, heating me all over. “Mama tried, but my father insisted on naming his only son. Matthew was my grandfather’s name.”
Claire studies me, quietly, and I’m suspended, holding my breath and left wondering what exactly she sees.
Her wise blue eyes sweep over my forehead, down to my eyes, then the bridge of my nose before she lingers on my mouth. Just as quietly, she shakes her head and flushes, briefly latching onto my gaze.
“It suits you.” She’s now across the counter from me. “I insist we go to the hospital.”
“You’ve already done that and the answer hasn’t changed. Thank you for this.” I hold up my hand carefully bandaged thanks to her. “I’m going to bed. I’ll be fine.”
“I had to try. You should elevate that.” She points to my wrapped hand. “And take the ice off in a few minutes. I’ll come up with another ice pack to switch them out in about fifteen minutes or so.”
“You don’t need to—”
“Matt.” Her eyes narrow. “I’m taking you to the hospital tomorrow if it doesn’t look better. You need to stop the swelling, and icing it will do that.”
I nod, willing to do as she says to avoid a visit to the ER. Now at the fridge, she takes out the eggs and butter, and I stall in the doorway. “What are you doing?”
She places the items on the counter, sparing me a brief glance. “Baking.”
“Seriously?”
“Uh-huh. I won’t be able to sleep.”
“I’d offer to help but doctor’s orders and all.” I hold up my hand again and she laughs. “Besides, I’m beat.”
“You need your rest. Good night.”
“Night, Claire.”
I hold my breath, this time for a much less pleasant reason, and make my way upstairs, dreading another confrontation with Britney. Luckily, her bedroom door is closed and the lights are off. I still can’t believe Claire thought we were a couple.
Why? We don’t act like one, and we aren’t sharing a room. And despite all the crap of this evening, why am I suddenly relieved and maybe even excited that I set her straight? It doesn’t change anything. We’re only staying here for a few nights and then we’ll go back to our own lives.
A shuffle or something like it comes from Britney’s room, and I hurry into the master bedroom. It’s the cowardly thing to do, but I’m not ready to talk to her. Tonight was a disaster.
Slamming my hand into the tree was dumb, and while the conversation with Brit led to it, if I’m being honest with myself, it wasn’t all because of her.
These past few weeks have been stressful with the pressure to decide the next step in my career. My father and his threat loom large, like an anvil over my head. Then I’ve got the meeting at the end of the month. And Britney’s drama just tipped me over the edge.
Her pregnancy is a shocker and I feel for her, but the biggest kicker is the added tension—and who knows what else this will cause—between Kai and me. He’s my teammate, and there’s no room for personal crap when we have a job to do.
I should call him, but it’ll look like I’m reaching out on behalf of Britney—that I’m doing her bidding. It sucks being caught in the middle of something I want nothing to do with.
When Britney finally admitted she was pregnant, I pushed for details about Kai. Did he know? Is the baby why they broke up? Things had been rocky between them before the football season ended, more so than usual, and she was focused on smoothing things out during the holidays.
“He asked who the father was. Can you believe that? He thinks I slept around. How could he? Right away refusing that the baby was his.” Britney cried, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand.
“Seriously?” She was a lot of things and a handful but not a cheater.
Nodding, Brit covered her face, sobbing on the bathroom floor. I gently tugged on her arm, coaxing her to her feet and into a hug.
“Asshole.” My teeth ground together, trying to rein in my disgust at my teammate. I thought Kai was a standup guy. A man. Clearly I was wrong.
“Matt, I told him it was his, and I even offered to take a paternity test.” She sniffles, shaky on her legs. “He didn’t care. Kai says he wants nothing to do with the baby or me.” She tipped her head back, twisting her features scornfully, and mimicked Kai’s baritone voice. “I’m out.”
Teammate or not, I will kick his ass.
“He’s a coward and a piece of shit,” I growled, carefully stepping back as rage boiled inside of me. “He can’t turn his back on you.”
“Yes, he can.” Her voice was small, defeated, and she shrank into herself. “Matt, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I can’t raise a child by myself.”
The truth of her words was like a knife, cutting into my chest. Britney is stronger than she thinks but self-centered. As much as I hate to admit it, she’s right. Motherhood could smarten her up, or it could be a fucking disaster.
But this isn’t something you take a gamble on. There’s a baby involved, another human being who depends on its parents to care for and love him or her.
Dammit.
Reliving these moments from earlier tonight brings back all the rage, disappointment, and helplessness. What does this mean for her? Or more importantly, what does it mean for me? I’ve been her de facto fallback guy for as long as I can remember.
She can barely take care of herself, let alone a baby. After all, it’s been my job to take care of her for far too many years.
10
Claire
When I wake up, Britney’s door is closed and Matt is working out. One look at him, flexing an arm—even if he isn’t working his injured hand—and the doctor inside of me makes an appearance.
“You shouldn’t be doing this.” I march into the gym, carefully taking his hand to get a better look.
It’s then I realize how close I am to him. Matt’s an athlete in the truest sense. His body is magnificent. As tall as an oak, strong and sturdy.
“It’s okay. I’m limiting its use, but I have to do a few exercises for my elbow, and cardio won’t hurt it.”
“Your elbow?” I’m quick to ask—anything to keep him talking while I try to slow my heart rate and regulate my breathing.
He proceeds to tell me about his injury and the exercises he has to do daily. His hand looks better. The swelling is minimal and he can more easily bend his fingers.
Nothing is likely broken.
“Good. So does this mean you’ll stop harping about the hospital?”
“Yes.” I turn, mumbling. “I’ll let you get back to it.”
I shut the door firmly behind me, not needing further temptation. If I dare steal another glimpse, I might not leave.
For most of the day, I keep to myself, wanting to avoid a continuation of last night and any more drama. Fresh air is a good idea.
“Where are you going?” Matt wanders down the stairs, and his plain black T-shirt stretches tautly over his broad shoulders and muscled chest.
My eyes drop to his battered and bruised hand before landing on the floor as I slip my foot into my boot. “For a walk.”
His fiery gaze watches my every move. “Can I come?”
My heart skips a beat, and I pause, forcing myself to focus on getting ready instead of losing myself in him. Images of him working out in the gym earlier flash through my mind and as if by magic, his masculine scent fills my nostrils.
Matt is hard to ignore.
And what do I say to his question? I don’t have a choice. If I say no, he can’t come, then I’m rude. And if I say yes?
If I say yes, we’ll be alone in the woods. Again. The last time was amazing and I thought he was taken and had a girlfriend back at the cottage. What would it be like now, knowing he’s single?
Heat rises from my neck into my cheeks at just the thought. Who am I kidding? I want to go for a walk with him. Why?
Because he’s a pleasing distraction.
Because he’s the only guy I’ve ever crushed on, and I love how I feel when I’m near him.
Because he’s single and Britney is no longer a concern.
Ah, right, that isn’t quite true. I hardly know Britney but without a doubt, she was born a problem. It isn’t fair to judge her like that, but it’s hard not to.
After he went upstairs last night, I baked two dozen muffins, one batch of banana walnut and the other, blueberry. All the while, I chewed on the news that he isn’t with Britney. Somehow the disclosure was a big deal, loosening the knot in my chest while I baked. Even still, I’m at a loss as to what to do with the revelation.
Today, I’m exhausted but in a good way. I was up until almost three in the morning, and by the time I made it to bed, I was bleary-eyed, and sleep had me as soon as my head hit the pillow.
It was perfect. My mind and body were too weary to dwell on Dr. Song, my career, my parents, or anything else.
Matt politely clears his throat and his warm eyes stare down at me. He’s waiting on an answer.
I jerk out of my reverie, embarrassed to have left him waiting, and drop my eyes to the lower half of his face. “Um, sure.”
The day-old stubble dusting his jawline is the same dark brown as the hair on his head. The sides are shorter, cut close to his scalp, and on top, the waves are finger-combed in that messy way guys can get away with.
Matt looks like he just got out of bed, sexy and sinful, bringing women to their knees with a glance.
I grab my hat, scarf, and gloves from the bin next to the bench. “I’m leaving in five.”
“Great. Let me tell Britney goodbye and then I’ll get ready.” He pauses after a step or two, peering at me over his shoulder. “She’s leaving for the airport shortly.”
Hat in hand, my head tilts back and my eyes widen, surprised. “She is?”
“Yeah. She’s got things to work on and shouldn’t be here. Give me a few minutes.”
He jogs the rest of the way up the stairs and I finish getting ready, unsure what to do with the news of Britney leaving. I can’t say I’ll miss her, and this will mean…Matt and I will be alone. Together.
“You can’t do this.” Britney’s raised voice soars through the air like the teal Lululemon tote that crashes to the ground at the foot of the staircase.
I shriek and jump back so as not to get hit by the flying luggage. The woman, closely followed by Matt, hurries downstairs.
“Brit, for Chrissakes, stop being unreasonable.” His gaze finds mine and worry creases his brow. “Are you okay? Did that hit you?”
“I’m fine.” I quickly step out of the way, sweating from the jacket I have on and everything else.
Suddenly, I want to be outside. More to get away from them than anything else.
Rage pours from every molecule of Britney’s being. Her attractive features are hard, warped, and ugly.
“I hate you,” she hurls at Matt as she grabs her suitcase from him and wipes at her tearstained face. “I thought you were my friend.”
“I am.” His tone is soft and soothing. “You need to sort this out with Kai. He’s the baby’s father.”
“I told you that’s a waste of time.” She holds up air quotes as she says, “He’s out.” She sniffles and shakes her head. “Don’t tell me what to do.” Then her gaze lands on me with daggers in her eyes.
“Then why did you come here in the first place if not to get my advice?”
She snorts, flicking her hair off a shoulder. “Your advice. Hardly. You were supposed to be my safe place. Someone who would always have my back. Be there for me.” She stresses each word as she stabs a finger at her chest and I wince from the force of it. “You’re a traitor.”
Her words are venom, and he flinches, shoulders shuddering at her cruelty, and an uneasiness coils around my insides. I can’t watch this. If I stay, I’ll say something I’ll regret. The last thing I need is to get any more involved. It’ll only make things worse.
“I’m going for a walk.” Thankful I’m already dressed for the weather, I head for the door. “Have a safe flight.”
“Ugh. Really? I bet you’re loving this.” Her snappish tone causes me to quicken my pace. She really doesn’t like me, and I’m not willing to be her punching bag.
“That’s enough.” He steps between us, blocking her from my view, and I welcome the barrier. “Claire, I’m sorry to ask but could you please wait?” He glances at his phone then back to me. “The car is not even five minutes away.”
I open my mouth, ready to protest and not wanting to witness more of the drama. And there will be more, I’m sure of it.
Visions of Matt wrestling Britney into the car spring to mind. Something tells me she won’t go quietly. But before I can say a word, his large hand cups my elbow and he leans in, lowering his voice. “I’d really like to go for a walk with you.”
And just like that, all my reasons for fleeing vanish. My heart melts and I nod, unable to say no to him.
“Matty, please.” Britney tugs on his arm, resorting to a saccharine smile and pleading in hopes of getting her way.
“This is for your own good.” He pulls her into his side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, and my stomach clenches. “Have you got everything? Should we take another look around?”
The two of them walk toward the other rooms and I sag onto the bench, ripping off my hat and scarf. I’m slick with sweat and anxious to be anywhere but here.
Britney traipses back to the front of the house without Matt, sneering at me. “Don’t think you can make a move. Matt is way out of your league. And he’s mine.”
My mouth hangs open, and I struggle to find the words, totally caught off guard. If I ever needed confirmation of how she feels about me, there it is. Before I can respond, Matt joins us, picking up her luggage and announcing the car has arrived.
