Page 43 of Give My Everything
I nod, taking another sip from my glass.
“But come on, Ben. Remmy? After everything we’ve heard about her and Lucas? Really?”
Sighing, I set my drink down on the table, perhaps with a little more force than I should, the loud thud of the thick glass bottom enough to draw at least a few eyes our way.
“Wyatt,” I say, lowering my voice to make sure we aren’t overheard. “What’s going on between me and Remmy is between us, okay? We’re getting married—soon. And I don’t want to hear any negativity or advice from you on the subject.”
He settles back in his chair and observes me. It’s this new thing he does, and I’m not a big fan. Mostly because he looks like he’s trying to read my mind.
His eyes widen and he leans forward. “Oh my god, is she pregnant?” he asks, his voice low.
My eyes close in irritation.How the fuck…?
“Oh my god. Ben.”
I look back at him and crack my neck, trying to alleviate the overwhelming stress that has just come into my shoulders. Count on my completely oblivious brother to figure something like that out as quickly as he did.
“Jesus.” He rubs his hands on his face. “Does anyone else know?”
I pause, wondering how honest I should be. I’m not the only one who knows, and I don’t like hiding things from my brother.
“Lucas knows,” I finally answer, watching the color drain from his face.
“Fuck. Is he…?”
“No, he’s not the father.”
Wyatt falls back in his chair, his hand to his chest.
“I’m too young to have a heart attack, Ben. Seriously. This shit is ridiculous.”
I shake my head. “You can’t talk about this. Got it?”
He nods, rubbing his hands across his face again. Behind him, I see Hannah returning from the bathroom.
“Not even to Hannah.”
His nostrils flare, but he doesn’t have a chance to respond as she sits down next to him at the table.
“She’s okay, just a little stomach bug or something,” she says, her voice sweet and clearly concerned as she sets her napkin back on her lap. “That must be the worst. I’ve never had a stomach bug, but it seems completely unfair. I hate getting sick.”
I look at Wyatt. He glares back.
“Let’s dig in, huh?” I say, lifting my fork and knife, preparing to cut into my ribeye.
I take a big bite, watching Wyatt as he continues to stare at me. Clearly, me telling him he can’t talk about this with Hannah is a bigger deal to him than everything else we’ve talked about this evening.
Good. It’s important for him to be in a relationship with someone he trusts, someone he wants to be honest with. Hannah doesn’t seem the manipulative type, so I don’t feel like I have to worry about them.
But if that’s truly the case, she’s one in a million.
I’d bet good money every woman in a relationship has an ulterior motive.
Money. Power. Sex. Fear. Sheer, unadulterated craziness. There are probably a million other reasons, too.
It’s why I don’t do relationships anymore.
If you’re going to be in a healthy relationship, you have to trust that person, and I know I’m incapable of trusting someone I’m in a relationship with.
