like this. He knows Charlie used to do that and that it never ended well.
I slap his hand away and glare at him as he sways on his feet. “Be like what? Be like a pregnant person who doesn’t appreciate being woken up in the middle of the night by a drunk asshole?”
He pulls his furry chin into his chest, almost stumbling with the effort. “Wow. That’s harsh. What’d I do to you?”
I shake my head at him, realizing that this conversation is completely pointless. He’s too drunk to even know what he’s saying or doing. He probably won’t remember any of it in the morning.
“Never mind. I’m going to bed. You can sleep in the other room.”
He is so not getting anywhere near me with that stinking booze-breath of his. And he’s drunk enough that he’ll probably try to touch me, and then I’d have to break one of his bones. It’s not worth taking the chance.
I attempt to walk past him, but he grabs me again. When I try to wrench myself out of his grip, he holds on tighter.
I pause my efforts to escape in an attempt to get a handle on my emotions. Really bad things could happen right now if I’m not careful. I take a deep breath in and out before turning to look at him. My wrist remains trapped between us.
“Lucky . . . you need to let me go. You’re drunk and you’re acting stupid, and I don’t have a lot of patience for that tonight.”
His voice softens. “But I need to talk to you about something. It’s super important.”
I sigh really loudly at him so he’ll know how annoying I find him. “Fine. What is it? Hurry up, because it’s late and I have to go to work in the morning.”
“Work?” He’s frowning in confusion. “It’s the weekend.”
I shake my head, realizing I almost revealed my secret. I plan to do a little more recon on Charlie’s mother tomorrow. I’ve been driving around her neighborhood off and on over the past three weeks when I’ve had time alone after work, making sure she’s there, seeing who she spends time with in the evening, getting to know her routines. Last time I heard, she was single, but it’s been a while. So far I haven’t seen anything to tell me different, but I need to be sure. I have no desire to spill my guts to a crowd. This has to be just between us.
“I meant shopping. I have to go shopping for the wedding.” That little lie will guarantee me a solo trip. Lucky is no more into these wedding plans than I am.
“Oh. Well, okay. I’ll probably be sleeping and then suffering a major hangover.” He smiles and hiccups, putting the back of his hand up to his mouth and wiping his lips.
I raise an eyebrow at him. “You had something you wanted to tell me?”
“Yeah.” Now he’s animated again, his eyes sparkling. He leans toward me and takes my other hand in his. We’re standing face to face and there isn’t enough space between us. His breath is like high-octane, pure alcohol stink coming at me in waves.
My instinct is to fight him off and get away, but I don’t. Settle down . . . this isn’t Charlie; it’s Lucky. He’s not going to hurt you.
His words come out all jumbled together. “I was thinking tonight, when I was out. About stuff. About us. And I was seeing all these girls dancing around and the guys joking around and stuff . . . but I really wasn’t having any fun.”
I shake my head at him. “I find that really hard to believe. This is the booze talking.”
He steps a little closer, giving me a clear view of his bloodshot eyes. “No, I swear. I used to like that stuff, but now that I’ve been here with you, and the peas are coming . . .”
“Peas?”
He glances down at my belly. “Peas in the pod. Two of ’em.” He looks up and grins at me before continuing. “I just don’t like the same things that I used to like. They make me mad, actually.” He shakes his head and looks confused, as if he doesn’t understand himself.
I shrug, realizing what he’s trying to say, even though he’s drunk as a skunk and probably talking out of his ass. “I know what you mean. I used to be right there with you guys, but now I just want to stay in