Page 48 of Sticking Around

“No, I’m coming.” I brush my knuckles up against hers. “I’ll meet up with them later.”

She nods toward the door. “I’ll head in then.”

She walks away and Ash nudges me. “So, you and Melanie. What the fuck is going on there?”

I glance over my shoulder to make sure she’s not within ear shot. “I’m helping her out.”

“Yeah, with your dick. You two are obviously fucking.”

“She needed a place to stay and who I’m fucking is not your business.”

He looks at the house and then back at me. “Yeah, well, careful with that one.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Dude, you’re in the prime of your life having a great fucking time with the bunnies. Women like Melanie aren’t looking for a good time. They’re looking for marriage, a house and kids. Ask Korbin. He got himself an older lady and now he’s saddled with a handful of kids.”

As far as I know, Korbin is in love and happy, but that has nothing to do with my relationship with Melanie. Besides she’s not much older than me, for fuck’s sake, and her biological clock isn’t about to stop ticking… I don’t think. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, well, when she convinces you to put a ring on it, starts pointing out houses she likes, and sells you on having kids, don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.”

While I was warming to the idea of a house, the thoughts of a baby scare the shit out of me. The responsibility of a child is just too much. Not that I have to worry about that. Melanie doesn’t want kids. She told me straight up, but I saw the look of longing on her face, which once again niggles at something in my brain. I might not be the psychologist here, but I don’t have to be to know something is off.

16

Melanie

I can’t help but think it’s been one heck of a crazy week with work, studying, and sharing a place with Brady, as I glance out the patio door to watch tourists soaking up the last of the summer sun with their families. Soon enough, they’ll all head back home and the vibe will change. Busses will arrive with the retired crowd, and believe it or not, sometimes they can be rowdier than the spring breakers. I’m not complaining. The work and tips are going to go a long way toward tuition, and I’ve just about made enough to cover next term.

Thanks to Brady—and I do plan on paying him back—my car is fixed, and, also thanks to him, I don’t have to make the commute back and forth to my place and waste a lot of time when that time could be put to better use, like sleeping in late with a hot hockey player.

But I was up early this morning, and sick to my stomach—not to mention a headache—worrying about my final exam which, according to the time on my phone, is less than two hours out. As I stand in Brady’s kitchen, I take a breath and shake out my hands, working to expel the anxiety rushing through me.

“Hey, you got this,” Brady says, coming into the kitchen. My heart leaps at the sight of him. Earlier, I enjoyed the sight of him too as he ran on the beach. Now he smells fresh and clean after his shower. He pulls me to him and plants a kiss on my mouth, and I’ve really grown accustomed to living with him—fast. I didn’t really see him much this week, with me working and studying and him practicing. But it’s Friday night, and he’s insisting we celebrate after my exam.

“What if I don’t got this?” How embarrassing would it be to go out for a celebration if I fail the damn exam.

“I’ve been testing you, and you’re ready.” He cocks his head. “Would I lie to you?”

“I’d hope not.” He knows how I feel about liars and when it comes to trust, I don’t take people at their word. I can’t believe anything coming out of their mouths. I know better than that. Or at least, I used to. Until this guy named Brady Fisher—Coddy—nearly accosted me with a poker. He’s a man who seems to keep his word, a man who gives without asking in return. Just look at what he does for his family—and I do hate how they all take advantage of him and how he thinks he’s responsible for them when he’s not—to the point he’s almost terrified of really living because it could result in not being there for them. Wow, just wow. He’s probably going to keep his word and do some big celebration, too, because he wants to do something nice for me—with nothing in return.

He laughs and whacks my ass as I go for another cup of coffee. He puts his hand over mine, uncertainty in his eyes. “Uh, maybe that’s not a great idea. You’re kind of jittery.”

“You’re right.” I grab a glass of water instead, needing something to wash down the bile punching into my throat. If I didn’t have an exam today that was making me nervous, I’d think I was coming down with a virus. My stomach is achy and I’m kind of sweaty.

“Did you eat?”

“I had toast for lunch. I don’t have much of an appetite. I’m sure I’ll feel better once the exam is done. I get like this because I don’t test well.”

“What time do you want to leave?” Brady grabs a package of lunch meats from the fridge and opens it. The smell makes me a bit queasy, so I take a seat at the table and sip my water.

“I told you. You don’t have to take me.”

He shrugs, squirts some mustard on the bread and slaps down the meat. “I’m going into the city anyway. I have some things to do.”

I eye him as he takes a big bite. “I don’t want a big party or any kind of party for that matter, Brady.” I warn and glare at him as I cross my arms. His face is full of innocence as he puts a hand on his chest and blinks at me.

“Really, Lanie.” He scoffs and there’s playfulness about him when he rolls his eyes at me. “You’re such a narcissist, thinking everything in this world revolves around you.”

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