“And you’re currently living where?” I growl at her.
“Point taken.”
“Well, I just can’t believe how it’s all changed so fast.”
Taylor hugs me again. Taking advantage of her current affectionate mood, I cling to her strong body. “By the end of the year,” she whispers, “every member of the Fearsome Foursome and the Band will have a kid.”
“Shane will be the leader with two,” I say and smile at him passing by again.
Preferring this comment to the ball-less one, he gives me a wink. Then he hurries after Iggy, who is very curious about all the people in his house.
Without Max around to cook for everyone, we’re forced to warm up a few casseroles she made weeks ago with the help of Maude and Lineke. I put two in the oven and walk out to the front porch.
The frigid winter air should send me back into the house, but the cold reminds me of Goliath. Hansel and Gretel play just off the porch, snug in their little vests and hats. I know they look ridiculous, but I love dressing them up. One day, I’ll torture my kid with goofy hats too.
Teary-eyed, I realize why I’m feeling mopey. I wish Goliath was here to soothe me. I’ve gotten addicted to his touch and the sound of his growly voice. My friends and family aren’t enough anymore. I need Dean, even though I know it would be hell for him to be around all these people and potentially screaming kids.
Still, I text to say I miss him. Nothing more. I consider asking him to come to the house, but I don’t. It feels selfish to guilt him into a situation that I know he’ll hate. Goliath is just starting to feel as if he belongs. It’d be cruel to throw him into a world of snarky Majors who talk shit like they breathe. I might be a bitch, but I always make sure the person I’m teasing is in on the joke. Goliath rarely is. He takes comments personally. I will have to wait until later to see him.
I sit outside for another twenty minutes. Despite the chilly 40-degree weather, the dogs are having a ball. They rarely enjoy the front yard, so it’s like a new wonderland for Gretel and Hansel. The little balls of furry goodness wag their tails at the sound of an approaching Harley. Yeah, my dogs are sweet on bikers too.
Goliath isn’t even off his bike before I’m attached to him.
“You came.”
“I got the feeling you wanted me to,” he says, warming me with his gray eyes.
“I’m emotional over Max’s baby and our baby and my friends all being so happy. I feel a little overwhelmed, but this right here,” I say, tightening my hold on him, “makes it all feel okay.”
Goliath gets it. I’m his safe space too. Once he let me into his heart just a tiny bit, he felt what I did that first time I saw him.
THE GOLIATH
Maybe I’m stressed about the baby and that slasher fuck. Or maybe Shelby’s weirdness has crawled under my skin. After all, I’m watching a lot of horror movies lately. That’s probably it. Still, I swear I feel someone brush up against me at the Victorian when I know for a fucking fact that no one is in the room.
“Ghost hugs,” Shelby insists as we prepare to drive over to the trailer for the night. “I don’t blame them for feeling you up.”
This is our routine now. We spend time at the Victorian or out with her group of friends. Then we drive together back to my place. Shelby always rushes from her SUV to the trailer. I don’t know if she’s more scared of that slasher or werewolves. Or maybe a maniac with a chainsaw. Or zombies or some other fucking thing. She knows about them all, and the woods are home for most of the shit-fucks.
“We need to find a place in town,” I say that night and the next one.
I probably say it too much, but I’m getting restless. The trailer feels too small now that I know I got a little girl on the way.
Seeing River’s new baby makes mine growing in Shelby feel more concrete. I don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to take care of someone that damn small. River looks like he's been doing that shit all his life. Then again, he’s got seven younger siblings. Plus, Shane’s kids. I guess he oughta look that smooth.