as being linked to the club, but I’m not certain of their names. When the girl on the right smiles, I know who she is. She looks exactly like her mother, one of the women I was expecting to find on my stoop.
“We brought gifts,” the other girl says, holding a gift basket up near her face as if she knows I’m watching them from the other side.
It’s all very sweet, but today was supposed to be spent relaxing. I mentally tell myself to shut up, remembering the loneliness I’ve felt the last couple of days and unlock the door.
“Hi,” I tell them. “What can I do for you?”
They both grin at me, neither looking annoyed I haven’t stepped away from the door to invite them in.
“I’m Ivy,” Emmalyn’s daughter says. “This is Delilah. My fiancé, Griffin, is working with Rocker and Jinx right now, but you probably already knew that.”
I smile instead of telling them that I have no clue where they are or what they actually do. Ivy is Kincaid’s daughter and Delilah is linked to Cerberus through Lawson who hangs out at the bar sometimes. They probably know the ins and outs of what happens at the clubhouse, but I’ve never been privy to that information. I honestly don’t know if I want to know what goes on there. The rumors about the parties they have filtering in at work are enough for me.
“Would you like to come in?” I offer, finally stepping to the side when they don’t act like they’re going to leave anytime soon.
Genuine smiles spread across their pretty faces as they enter.
“We both live in the building right next to you,” Delilah says as she places the gift basket on the coffee table.
“Not in the same apartment,” Ivy clarifies. “But we do share a wall.”
Delilah snickers like they have some sort of secret, but I’ve seen both Griffin and Lawson, and I imagine they spend a lot of time in their beds. If they share that wall, then I can understand the reaction.
They both settle on the sofa, making it clear they don’t plan to leave anytime soon, so I take a seat in the recliner. I run my hands up the cushioned arms, realizing I’ve never actually sat in the thing before. I’ve been missing out. As one of the pieces the guys added to my décor when they moved me in here, it may possibly be the comfiest spot in the room.
“We brought loads of stuff,” Ivy says as she leans forward and begins to open the top of the gift basket. “Mom recommended these.”
She holds up a bag of ginger snaps before lowering it to the table and digging deeper. So they both know I’m pregnant. I guess there really are no secrets with this group of people. Just that thought makes me wonder how often they all sit around and gossip about what’s going on in everyone’s lives, but even as I think that, neither girl seems to be judging me.
“This is all very kind of you,” I respond.
“We also added some nausea wristbands in case you’re feeling too sick to even snack on the cookies,” Delilah adds, and for the first time I notice the diamond on her ring finger sparkling in the light. It’s accompanied by a matching band. Ivy is only wearing a gorgeous engagement ring.
“You’re married?” She doesn’t seem old enough to be married.
“Since December.” She looks down at her ring with so much pride, I’d know she was a newlywed even if she didn’t just inform me of the fact. “We’re working on getting a house built out by my parents’, but we got a two-bedroom just in case we’ll need it before the house is done.”
They’re trying to get pregnant. That’s what I take from her words.
Before now, I never would’ve considered myself a bitter person. These girls have it all, perfect men, good parents, lives anyone with a lick of sense would envy, and look at me. I’m twenty-nine, pregnant and not sure who the father is, and I’m living in an apartment I couldn’t even begin to afford on my own. I spent years of my life getting hit daily, and many more years after that wondering how long before it happens again.
Tears threaten to fall when I think about my situation, but Ivy’s cheery voice brings me back.
“We also threw in a bunch of stuff for like a personal spa day. There are bath bombs and foot scrubs. There are