Page 49 of Love Bitters

Ollie drops something into the sink at the admission, but Murphy beats him to speaking. "No harm, no foul, right?"

Evan and I both turn our heads to glare incredulously at him, but he refuses to meet either of our eyes. One thing I used to have to remind myself about the dude, is that he's always got a reason for everything. Like he calculates every word that ever leaves his lips. It's the only reason I keep my mouth shut, simply watching as Thatch huffs with a nod, going into the kitchen to grab plates and cups for the table.

It isn't until I've finished helping Ollie cook and we're all sitting down for the morning meal together that Murph makes his move.

Sitting back in his chair, he holds his mug between his hands as he addresses Thatch. "So, are we ready to talk about what's going on with you?"

Thatch glances up to him, then around to the rest of us, realizing he's the one being spoken to. "Don't know what you mean, dude."

"You know exactly what I mean," Murph says. "We need to get this shit cleared up now that Imma's back in our lives and definitely before the baby is born."

Thatch mirrors Murph's posture and crosses his arms over his chest defensively. "There's nothing for anybody to be worrying about. I'm taking care of it as we speak. What we should really be asking ourselves is are we just going to let this baby thing go without talking about it? I mean, we're all good with it?"

"Why wouldn't we be?" Evan asks, anger simmering just beneath the surface of his words.

Shrugging, Thatch retorts, "We don't even know which one of us is the father. You're just cool with it being whoever's? What if it's mine?"

"Doesn't change a thing," Evan states simply. "If she's ours then so is the baby, yeah?"

"If it's too much, you don't have to stick around to find out if it's yours or not," Ollie snaps from his side. "We'll take care of them."

This must strike a nerve in Thatch because he slams a hand down on the table, making the dishes rattle in response as he explodes. "I'm not fucking leaving her high and dry. Even though that’s what she did to us. I just meant we need to be sure that we're cool with each other. It had nothing to do with her, but I can clearly see that no matter what I say, it's going to get twisted so that I stay in the wrong. Whatever, man. I've got places to be anyway."

He abruptly stands from the table, practically knocking his chair down in the process, and he’s almost out of the room before Murph can get a word in. "Illegal places?"

"Wouldn't fucking matter if it was," he mutters, leaving us in the quiet of his wake.

A few minutes later, he comes stomping down the hall before slamming the front door. Out of all the ways I saw this conversation going, I couldn't have predicted this one. Though, if I thought about it long enough, I could have. The dude has had some serious attitude and anger issues that have only gotten worse over the recent months.

"We've got to help him get out," I insist, assuming but not fully knowing what it is that he's gotten into now.

Murph runs a hand down his face. "If we don’t, he's going to end up in jail. Or worse. I've got a bad feeling that our girl is going to be the only one who can help at this point."

That's the one thing I'd love more than anything to avoid at all costs, but I'm terrified he might be right. We'll just have to bear the brunt of the weight. Imma is already stressed about everything else, and this is the very last thing she needs on her plate of worry right now Thatcher shouldn't be her responsibility anyway.

"If you stare at the table any harder, you might just burn a hole right through it," Evan jokes gently. "Stop fretting about it. We've been through worse."

God knows he's right. Imma ghosting us was the absolute worst, so if we can get through that, then we should be able to tackle this like a fat kid on a piece of cake.

Doing a complete one-eighty on our conversation, I ask, "Are you taking Ollie to work today like normal?"

His eyebrows drop, and I can hear the curiosity in his voice with his reply. "That was the plan."

Said subject had already started cleaning off the table and is now doing dishes in the kitchen, so he misses it when I suggest, "Why don't you let me drive him today? There's kind of somewhere I wanted to go and need his help."

Murph's head turns slowly toward me as he comments, "I don't know if we should stop this before it happens or wait to be surprised by whatever it is you're concocting."

I bark out a laugh and stand to take the rest of the dishes to the sink without replying. Let them spend the day wondering what kind of mischief me and Ollie can manage within a few hours. Said man, having obviously heard more than I thought he did, grins over at me, those damn freckles splattered across his cheeks turning darker with the extra flush to his skin.

"This means you're telling me, right?" He beams.

Shrugging nonchalantly and fighting a smile, I retort, "Depends on how good you are at helping a brother out."

He chuckles under his breath, and I'm pretty sure he's got a good idea of where this is headed. We finish the dishes in time to watch both Evan and Murph leave. After telling his boyfriend bye, Ollie runs off to grab his stuff, possibly even more excited than I am despite not knowing where we're going yet. I'd be lying if I said he doesn't surprise me further by not bombarding me with questions as he hops into my car. Half my attention is on him as we pull into the store parking lot, so I'm privy to the knowing smile that breaks out across his face.

"I knew it!" he says, stepping out of the car after we've parked. "Is there a reason you didn't want the others to know?"

"Nah," I respond honestly, twirling my keys on my finger as we walk inside. "I thought about coming by myself, but I figured you might like to ride along."

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