Page 66 of The Ones We Fight For

“Is it just the pregnancy making you this horny?”

“I crave pickles, milkshakes, salt and vinegar chips, and sex constantly,” Amala confirmed with a cheesy grin. “But I'm also too bloated half the time from this baby sitting on all my internal organs and eating all the aforementioned foods to do the last one, so I channel all of my desire for sexcapades into wanting my friends to also get laid.”

“What are friends for?” Talia laughed. “I’m not planning on failing, though.”

“Failing at what?” A deep voice rasped from behind Talia, sending a shiver up her spine. Walker was leaning against the door frame as he always did. His face quickly edged from concern to discomfort when she met his gaze. “Right, sorry. None of my business.”

“Got your shopping list?” Talia inquired with an overly chipper voice. Feigned happiness became even more difficult when Walker displayed the list he’d brought on the colorful stationery she had bought him. She could feel the heat wanting to creep up her chest and neck to her cheeks. Using her phone as an excuse, she picked it up and swiped her finger over the screen to unlock it. “Send me a copy so we can conquer and divide.”

They never divided the list, but in order to get through the whole affair, Talia needed to keep her distance from Walker as much as possible. If he was shocked or disappointed with the new tactic, he didn’t let on, just pulled out his own phone from his pocket. A second later, a notification appeared on Talia’s phone, and she opened it to find a picture of his list, all of the items categorized and laid out exactly the way she had taught him.

“Which categories do you want?” he asked conversationally.

Talia opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by the sound of foil and air popping like a balloon. She turned to find Amala looking between her and Walker with amusement as she plopped a potato chip—salt and vinegar, of course—into her mouth. Amala crunched loudly as she stared Talia and Walker down, watching them as if they were one of her crappy reality TV shows. Ignoring her, Talia swiveled to face Walker and get down to business.

“I’ll take the cosmetics, toiletries, house supplies, and—”

“But you always make me grab the tampons,” Walker noted and gave her a handsome smile. It was true. Talia teased him relentlessly about it and knew he was barely fazed by the idea of picking up feminine hygiene products anymore, but she usually attempted to find a new way to embarrass him anyway. For the time being, though, their back-and-forth banter and flirting had to stop. It was hard enough with his smile lighting up the room.

“Yeah, well,” Talia shrugged noncommittally. “I got it. You do dairy and dry foods. Text me when you’re through, and then we’ll divide the rest of the list.”

“Okay.” Walker’s mouth twitched, and he moved out of the doorway, pulling his shoulders back like he was preparing for a sock to the stomach. “I’ll meet you at the front when I’m done.”

Talia tossed Amala a glum look over her shoulder once Walker turned his back to them. She had put on a brave face while he was watching her, but she wasn’t sure how long she could keep her broken heart hidden from him. The only hope now was that he’d never ask how she was feeling, or he would easily be able to read it on her face. Amala gave her a thumbs up and a reassuring smile as Talia trudged out of the office, already googling therapists on her phone.

Chapter 25

Walker

Nothing worked. Walker could not stop thinking about Talia. She was everywhere, despite also wanting to be nowhere near him. A month had passed since the fight at the mini golf course, and Walker was starting to think that if Talia continued to barely acknowledge his presence, he might start wandering around with a cartoon storm cloud over his head. It felt wrong to see her pick up her coffee at the place where they had sat and talked for hours and only receive a wave in greeting before she promptly left to avoid him. Grocery shopping had become an agonizing torture, knowing Talia was wandering around Lydia’s with a cart the same time he was, but separated by several aisles he wasn’t allowed to cross. They always stuck to their categories. Walker wanted the feminine hygiene category back so Talia could make fun of him again.

During family dinner nights at Roscoe and Amala’s, Walker spent most of his time talking to Roscoe since Talia averted her eyes every second she could. He wondered how much space she needed to forget that he had ever mentioned how obsessed with her he was. She might not ever be his friend again. It was possible she was too worried about his sex dreams of her he had so casually announced like an absolute creep to ever consider sitting down with him for a cup of joe again.

The distance should have been enough to stop what he was feeling or thinking about her, and yet, all it did was make him overanalyze all of her passing glances and yes-or-no responses. The dreams hadn’t stopped, either. If anything, his brain had upped its ability to form fantasies because he couldn’t create new ones with her, live and in person. Not that he had fulfilled any of his sexual fantasies before, but just talking to Talia on a regular basis like when they were friends now felt like something unreal.

Piper and Pearl still had their weekly sleepovers with Talia, and it had become the only way Walker received any information on her life. Luckily, Pearl was a blabbermouth and was loose-lipped with any information she deemed worthy of talking about. He probably shouldn't have encouraged gossipy behavior, but when it came to Talia, he was desperate. Pearl was how he knew Talia had sent Clifford packing. That, or Cliff had decided to go home? It was unclear to him, but either way, Walker was thrilled that Talia’s ex-fiancé was not in the picture anymore. Only light bruising had resulted from the guy’s sucker punch, but that wasn’t the reason Walker wanted him gone.

He was doing that bullshit “if I can’t have her, no one can” thing. It was stupid, considering he had absolutely no claim to Talia, but the primal part of Walker still wailed that if she found someone else, he might just keel over and die. It was possible Pearl got her flair for the dramatic from him.

Thinking about Talia with anyone else at all made him sick to his stomach. It was wrong.

Walker had been ruminating on the idea of Talia in bed with another man for too long, letting his morning eggs go cold, when Pearl announced that Talia’s car had broken down again and he would have to take over pickup and drop-off for therapy later. His bad mental state was only heightened by the new information, sending him into a full-blown rage directed at the sleazy car salesman he had already chewed out over the phone once for selling her the damned car to begin with.

“Where are you going?” Piper called after him.

“Looks like he’s about to Hulk smash someone’s face in,” Carter said in amusement.

“Don’t do anything illegal!” Colin warned. Walker gave his nephew an annoyed thumbs up before stopping himself with a deep breath next to the front door so he wouldn’t rip it off its hinges.

“Colin, take everyone to school. Pearl, I’ll pick you up for your appointment later,” Walker grumbled, setting a firm hand on the door to pull it open.

Illegal, he decided, did not include speeding. Flying down the road, Walker attempted to calm himself down while he strained to let up on the gas. Getting in a car accident was probably the worst thing that could happen to him. That, or Talia calling him up to say she didn’t feel the same and never wanted to be his friend again. Either way, the car salesman would receive the brunt of his frustrations.

Walker made it within a couple hundred feet of the car lot when red and blue lights flashed behind him. Looking back in his rearview mirror, he cursed under his breath at the police cruiser tailing him. He turned on his blinker to maneuver off the road and safely pulled to the side before contemplating his life choices for the thousandth time that day. He had no idea how fast he’d been going when the cop clocked him, but he was too distracted to care. The car lot awaited just out of reach as a way to relieve some of his pent-up disgruntlement.

“Hey, idiot, roll down your window!” Roscoe’s voice called out from beyond Walker’s car door, his knuckles rapped on the window. Complying immediately, Walker shot his friend a sheepish look.

“How fast was I going?”

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