Hate the Player - Max Monroe Page 0,121

my best behavior, despite the reality that I just wanted to go home the instant Andrew arrived.

“Hey, Billie.” I grab her attention once I find her in the kitchen. My eyes pointedly avoid the fact that Andrew stands on the other side of the island in the middle of the room. “I think I’m going to head out.”

“What?” she questions, her mouth turning down at the corners. “You’re leaving? Why are you leaving? It’s so early.”

“Honey, I’ve been here for over three hours. Half of the guests have already left.”

“No, you can’t leave. You need to stay.”

I reach out and pull her into a tight hug. “Love you, sis. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

But when I release her from my gentle hold, I’m shocked to find her glaring at me.

Like, shooting laser beams out of her eyes, glaring at me.

“Billie? What’s wrong?”

My innocent question triggers something because once it leaves my lips, she fucking explodes.

“Yeah, I’m done with this madness!” Billie shouts and startles the attention out of everyone moseying around the catered food. “You two,” she shouts and points at me, and then pointedly moves her index finger to the other side of the spacious kitchen where Andrew stands beside Howie, a plate of half-eaten hors d’oeuvres in his hands. “You seriously need to get your shit together!”

My eyes go wide. Oh no. I’ll take a one-way plane ticket to anywhere but here, thank you very much.

“Princess,” Luca attempts to chime in, his voice equal parts concerned and tender. “How about we step outside for a minute?”

“Nope,” she protests. “I’m not leaving this kitchen until these two actually say one fucking word to each other.” Her glare moves back and forth between her fiancé, Andrew, and me. “I did not plan this whole insane party, in a matter of a goddamn week, while I’m so pregnant that I can’t even see my freaking toes, for these two stubborn assholes to ignore each other the entire time!”

Um…what?

“What do you mean you planned this party in a week?” I question, my mood shifting from mortified to outright furious. “You told me you’d been planning this for a while…”

“Oh, get real, Birdie,” she spits, her shocking anger only growing by the second. “Who in the hell throws themselves an engagement party a week before they’re supposed to have a baby?” Her responding laugh is downright maniacal.

“So…wait… This isn’t an engagement party?” Howie asks, and the insane pregnant woman glares at him.

“Christ, Howie,” she mutters and tosses both hands up in the air. “Read the freaking room. I love you, buddy. You’re a total sweetheart. But no one has time to bring you up to speed. The focus needs to stay on the two dumbasses who are in love with each other, who are so goddamn meant to be it’s making me feel insane, but neither one of them has the balls to make things right!”

“Baby,” Luca whispers and calmly steps forward to press a hand to her back. “How about you come with me upstairs so you can take a breather and try to calm down?”

“Calm down?” she shrieks, her voice already rising to new heights. “Oh yeah, fucking right. I’m not calming down until Birdie and Andrew stop being little bitches!” she shouts, but when she opens her mouth to add God only knows what to her crazy anger-fueled ramble, she instantly shuts it tight and cringes. “Ow, shit.”

And then she looks down between her legs, and her eyes go wide. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Billie?” Luca asks. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing besides me being so pregnant I just peed myself,” she mutters and starts to waddle toward the bathroom off the back of the kitchen. “No big deal! Just icing on the horrible disaster cake that is this stupid party! Worst fake engagement party ever!”

Bailey strides into the kitchen, Billie’s outburst officially interrupting his nap on the couch, and starts to assess the situation. He finds his dutiful position beside my sister, sniffing the air near her legs.

Even though it appears my sister has lost her freaking mind and is outrageously mad at me, I step forward to follow her lead to the bathroom so I can help her out.

But when I notice that the trail of liquid coming from between her legs keeps gushing in a steady stream and appears to be shockingly clear and not close to the yellow you’d expect from urine, it hits me.

This isn’t pee.

“Billie, honey, are you sure this isn’t your water?”

Bailey starts barking

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