Page 48 of Ghosted By Texas

“Yeah, he looked really grumpy after he ghosted me yet again after sex, only to see him kissing all over Jordan a couple days later. He was really torn up.” I pushed off Houston after wiping my snotty face all over his shirt. I’d add that little reaction to my guilt pile later.

Clea left the room as I managed to get back up on my feet. I had my phone out, and dialed Austin’s number by the time she got back and handed Houston a different shirt to replace the one I’d just snotted all over.

“I’m going to put it on speakerphone, because I need you guys to be here for me,” I admitted. Truthfully, I just wanted a fucking witness to what was about to happen. I wasn’t even a little bit surprised when his voicemail kicked in. He hadn’t answered any of my texts since the day I left his house, why in the hell had I thought he’d answer his phone? I decided a text was better anyway. He could ignore it like all the others.

Becs: I need to speak to you. It’s important, please call immediately.

I said everything out loud as I typed it in. Honestly, I should have just sent him an “I’m pregnant” text that he could ignore and called it good, but I knew that wouldn’t fly with Houston. He basically acted like my own personal Jiminy Cricket.

Almost immediately the delivered and read receipts popped up. “There, he’s seen it,” I mentioned as I flipped my phone to face Houston and Clea. We all waited. I knew what would happen, or more accurately what wouldn’t. They seemed to be growing more impatient with each second that ticked by. I guess they thought he would immediately pick up the phone to see what I wanted. I wasn’t sure what part of “he ghosted me” they didn’t understand, but at least now they would know what I meant.

After fifteen minutes, Houston grew completely fed up with his brother and pulled his own phone out. He got an immediate response from his brother, which went to show that he was capable. His hands hadn’t fallen off. Apparently, Houston wasn’t going to have a text argument with Austin though. He dialed the phone instead.

“What?” I heard Austin growl through the phone. “It’s my fucking brother, lay off for a minute, J.”

My stomach rolled again at hearing that. They were together. Figured.

“You need to get to Clea’s place, right now.” Houston demanded as I shook my head. No, I did not need him to show up here with her hot on his heels while I had to deliver this news to him.

“I can’t fucking leave.”

“Get Dallas over there. Put me on speaker,” Houston demanded and waited a minute for his brother to comply. “Jordan?” Houston called out.

“Yeah?” She answered snippily.

“Shit or get off the pot, girl. I’m your boss too and I’m not playing the emotional blackmail games you keep using to keep Austin dangling by your strings. If you don’t want to work at the bar, get a new fucking job. Try this bullshit again, and you’ll need to look for another job anyway, because I’m sick of it. I will have you replaced if you don’t want to work and just want another way to control my brother.”

Well, damn. You go, Houston. That was almost worth the price of admission. The price being having to hear that Jordan and Austin were playing happy couples at work. Or not so happy as it seemed that day. Then the price grew steeper as Austin defended the bitch.

“What the fuck, Houston?” He yelled.

“I should be asking you, ‘What the fuck?’ Austin. That is our bar. Our business. Stop bringing your personal shit there to fuck things up. If Jordan can’t be a grown up about working with you when she’s your fuck buddy, then she needs to find a new job. And you need to stop sleeping with employees. Now, get Dallas to cover for you, and get your ass over here. It’s fucking important!”

I cringed at the tone Houston used with his brother. That was not going to go over well. The jerk would be in a hell of a mood when he got here and then I was supposed to deliver news that would most likely piss him off even more.

I went to take a seat on the couch, because standing wasn’t an option anymore, as all the possible scenarios for how this was about to play out ran through my mind. I hated that Houston had shown up in the middle of us taking those tests. He didn’t even give me a minute to process the news for myself before I had to deal with Austin and Jordan drama that ruined everything all over again.

I sat there in silence as Houston and Clea did their own thing. What that thing was, I couldn’t tell you because my mind was lost to the endless string of possibilities. Maybe, I could just run away and go live somewhere else and raise my baby where Jordan could never get her nasty bitch hands on him or her. Doing that would mean depriving my little souvenir of knowing family. They wouldn’t get to bond with any of the Mercers, Clea, and well my family was pretty much out of the picture anyway unless they needed something from me.

My bet was that my parents would hate the thought that I was pregnant. My priority would be my baby, so if they got in a jam again, I wouldn’t be available to bail them out. More than that, I knew deep in my heart that I would hate the idea of having a grandchild as much as they resented having to raise me.

Eventually, there was a knock on the door. I pulled my feet up under me and hugged my legs so that I was a tight ball of scared and angry pregnant woman plopped into the corner of Clea’s comfy couch. I’d always liked the thing and wished I could afford something similar. One day, although with a baby to plan for, I might have to keep my too-stiff couch a while longer.

I swiped at the tears that streamed down my cheeks unhindered as his voice registered. “What’s going on here?”

That was his voice, not Houston’s. I could hear the slight difference now. Odd how just a few short weeks had diminished the sound so that they were indistinguishable until I heard his again.

I hadn’t realized until that moment that I still had the pregnancy test clutched in my other hand. So, I threw it at the bastard. “That’s what’s going on,” I insisted as the damn thing bounced off his chest and fell with a clickity-clack to the wooden floor.

I watched as Austin bent down to pick it up and when he got a good look, his eyes immediately rounded out like a cartoon character who realized an Acme bomb was about to blow up on them. He stood there and shook his head back and forth as if he could change the results of the stick he was looking at.

“No,” he growled the one-word response. Yeah, I felt the same way, buddy. “You’re saying this is mine?” And that insult stung like a motherfucker, considering I wasn’t the one jumping from man to man the way he was hopping from Jordan to me and back again.

I shook my head, as if to deny he was the father, but Houston butted his nosy ass in to stop me in my tracks.

“I heard what you told Clea. He’s the only person you’ve been with, in six months, at least. Don’t lie to him now just because he’s being a dick.”

“What the fuck?” Austin yelled the question at his brother like it was an accusation, and maybe it was. Houston didn’t sound as though he was on his brother’s side at all, and Austin had clearly picked up on that fact.

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