Tatum’s in the family room watching Frozen. No surprise there.
Sadie gasps when she sees me. “Duuuuuude, your face!”
Right. Forgot about that for a minute. “It’s not that bad.” I roll my eyes, setting my bag on the floor next to the back french doors I’ve been in and out of the last couple of weeks, and usually in the middle of the night.
“Uh, yeah, it is.”
“Think Syd likes a man with battle wounds?” Fuck. Why’d I ask that? Dammit. I shouldn’t have.
Sadie laughs. “Boy, you got it bad for my sister, don’t you?”
“Sadly,” I mumble.
“Hang in there, slugger.” She reaches for her cell phone on the kitchen island. I smirk, thinking of me fucking her sister on it. “I have to go. Can I trust you with her?”
I lift my eyes to hers. “Who are you referring to? Because you’re pointing to Tatum, but I think you mean Syd.”
She doesn’t correct me.
I chew on the inside of my cheek, my heart thumping faster than before. “I’m not going to break her heart, if that’s what you mean.”
“Good. Because if you do, I’ll burn your baseballs.”
From the look on her face, she’s fucking serious. “Noted.”
“There’s shit in the freezer for her to eat, but don’t you dare touch my wine.” She motions to the counter, reaching for the door handle and giving the look. “I marked the bottle.” She’s about out the door and turns. “Slugger?”
I lift my eyes to hers. Waiting.
“Don’t tell her I told you this, but they both think you’re pretty special.”
Fuck yeah.
Sadie leaves, and I take my phone with me into the family room where Tatum is sitting. At first, she doesn’t notice me sitting on the couch. Until I throw a pillow at her head.
Turning, she scowls and then notices it’s me. “Boy!”
“Miss me?”
She drops the remote on the ground, barrels over a mountain of couch cushions she’s ripped from the furniture, and onto my lap. “Boy, you got an owie.”
“Does it look that bad?”
She nods. “Ow.”
“It doesn’t hurt that bad.”
She stares at me, searching my eyes, and holds out her hand. “Belly beans?”
I wink at her and reach inside my pocket. “I got the hookup. These ones are all cotton candy.”
Her eyes light up and she curls in beside me. “Want to watch Frozen?”
“Only if we can fast-forward to Olaf.” I wrap my arms around her waist and haul her into my lap. Soaking in her scent, I realize I’m fucked. Kissing the top of her head, I whisper, “He’s the best.”
She does that thing where she takes my arms and wraps them around her tighter. “I know.”
How’d this three-foot-tall jelly-bean monster work her way into my heart so easily?
Easy. She’s the spitting image of her mom.
A zero on the scoreboard.
SYDNEY
Anxiety attack.
What are the symptoms? I think I have it. Google it for me and text me the link because I don’t have time to look it up. Thanks.
Crying.
I’ve been doing a lot of it lately.
But it’s time to bitch up. I’m upset but not surprised.
I’ve been avoiding Remi for weeks now. She’s called, stopped by, and I pretended not to be home. Then she started texting me.
Ignored.
All of it. Now I need closure. Now I need to buck the fuck up.
Honestly, in those days after I found out about her and Colin, I couldn’t deal with her too. At least not until I was forced to.
Because the name on the accidental life insurance policy with his bank?
Remington Anne Livingston.
The girl, all of twenty-one, he was trusting his future in while hers was just beginning.
And for that reason, I needed answers. I, 100 percent, believed Collin instigated the relationship with her and told her all kinds of lies about me to get her to believe him being married was a minor detail.
Still, I didn’t know.
It’s time to put my big girl panties on and bitch up. All those details I was so terrified to know, I needed now.
So I called Remi and asked her to meet me for coffee after I left the bank, knowing Cason could handle Tatum for the afternoon.
Ten minutes later than the time we agreed on, I walk into the small café in Tempe to find Remi waving me toward the far wall. “I got you an iced white mocha with caramel. Cason said it was your favorite.”
Of course he did. I smile, that familiar lump permanently lodged in my throat rising again. I don’t think I’ve prepared myself enough for what I’m about to do, but I need to. “Thank