Sarah pulls a hand out of her pocket and waves. “Sorry to crash your party .”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” David wraps an arm around her shoulder. “You can’t crash a party you were invited to .”
Sarah starts to respond, but the front door swings open and interrupts her. Annabelle Carmichael steps through and her eyes go straight to Sarah .
“I thought that was your car,” Annabelle says, her eyes glistening with happiness and tears. She crosses the room and wraps her daughter in her arms, holding her close while Sarah goes stiff. “I’ve missed you so much,” Annabelle whispers, and then speaks too quietly for anyone to hear the rest. Sarah lifts her arms and wraps them around her mother, burying her face in her shoulder; her slender back hitches as she fights against tears. My own eyes water and Colton wraps an arm around my waist, drawing me in and resting his head against mine .
Annabelle releases Sarah and brushes her hair back off her forehead. “You have fun tonight.” She runs her hands down Sarah’s arms and squeeze her hands before letting go. “It’s so good to see you. I’ve imagined this day for years.” She doesn’t press Sarah for information. Doesn’t make her promise to come more often. Doesn’t admonish her for staying gone so long. She just smiles at her youngest, love clearly visible on her tear-stained face, and then collects the children, says her goodbyes, and leaves with one last smile for her daughter .
Sarah looks stunned, unsure how to process what just happened, until Colton steps forward. “Let’s get this party started.” He sweeps his sister into a giant hug, gestures toward me, and aims us at the kitchen. The rest follow suit, pouring drinks while Bailey gets music playing in the living room .
I drink and drink and drink, but Colton drinks more. By the time the clock strikes midnight, he’s struggling to stand and the kiss he mashes into my lips is wet and sloppy and tastes like tequila .
Bailey gives me a knowing smile. “You need help getting him home?” she asks, sighing heavily .
Colton staggers and points a finger in her general direction. He slurs something that sounds like “You wish” and then hiccups, closes his eyes, and drops onto the couch .
“I think I can manage him,” I say to Bailey while grabbing Colton’s hands. “Come on, big guy. Let’s get you home .”
He blinks, looks surprised to find himself sitting, and then lurches into a standing position. I manage to get his coat on him while he serenades us all with a wobbly rendition of Liam and Bailey’s new release. “It’s a good song,” he slurs, pointing toward the ceiling for no discernible reason .
I say goodbye for the both of us, wrap his arm around my shoulder, and we stagger across the frozen grass to his trailer. The sky is clear above us, a nearly full moon casting enough light to display his tequila tainted breath puffing in front of his face while he croons at the top of his lungs .
“You’re going to wake up your mom and the kids,” I say as we step onto his porch .
“You and the damn kids.” He pulls out of my grasp. “Kids, kids, kids. That’s all you—” he staggers and puts a hand out to stop from falling “—ever do. Yammer on and on about kids. I knew I was never gonna hear the end of it as soon as I saw you holding that baby.” He tries to level a finger at me, but it wobbles through the air and he drops his hand to his side with a sigh .
I fumble with the door and guide him inside. He aims for the couch, but I divert him to the bedroom, barely managing to save Mario from being trampled .
“You gotta stop with the family shit,” Colton says. I lower him onto the bed and kneel to remove his shoes. “That’s more like it.” He fumbles with his belt. “You want this to work. More blow jobs. Less pressure. We’re never gonna make it work if you don’t shut up about the kids. You’re such a know it all, Bunny .”
His words sober me faster than a pot of coffee and a cold shower, and that old nickname is a slap to the face. My heart climbs into my throat as Colton collapses on the bed, one shoe still on his stupid foot. He can sleep like that for all I care, one shoe on, one shoe off .
Tears prick my eyes, blurring my vision and I stumble as I stand. I don’t yammer on and on about kids. We talk about our future, but the last thing I do is pressure him on the topic of family because I know how important it is. In fact, I’ve been walking on fucking eggshells about it, even though it scares the hell out of me, specifically because I know how strongly he feels about the topic. The last thing I want to do is pressure him. How could he say those things to me? Is that how he really sees me or is he just too drunk to know what he’s saying ?
Colton snores and I close my eyes and swallow hard. I can’t bring myself to sleep next to him. Not after that. All I want to do is go home, put as much distance between us as I can, and curl up in my own bed. But that’s not possible. As much as I’d like to get the fuck out of here, I’ve had too much to drink to get behind the wheel. I’m trapped here .
“Fuck you, Colton,” I whisper and then head to the living room, swoop Mario into my arms, and curl up on the couch to wait until morning .