“You okay?” I asked, my gut telling me something was a little off. “Is everything good between you and Ryder?”
Elle and her husband, Ryder, had been married for a year or so, after spending ten long years secretly pining for each other while in relationships with the wrong people. It was a beautiful story in and of itself, but one filled with a lot of strife leading up to the ending they both wanted.
“Well, no, not exactly…” Elle drawled. She picked up her menu, letting her eyes skim over it, making me wait for her to finish her sentence. “I wish you hadn’t ordered the mimosas and the Mini Beni’s.”
My face scrunched into a confused,what the fucktype look. Mimosas and Mini Beni’s were our favorite. We ordered them every time.
“I’m pretty sure the hollandaise has raw eggs in it,” she stated simply.
“Oookay?” I was confused as fuck.
She shrugged, still skimming the menu. Then she looked up at me, her bright blue eyes shining as a smile pulled her lips wide. “Can’t have alcohol or rawanythingwhen you’re pregnant.”
“YOU’RE PREGNANT?” I shouted, standing from my seat so abruptly the chair screeched back in protest. I rounded the table, grabbing her arm and pulling her up. Wrapping my arms around her, I hugged her tight as tears pricked the back of my eyes. Who knew I’d be so sappy when one of my best friends got knocked up?
“Okay, tell me everything,” I told her, releasing her from my hug so we could sit back down. “I’m so happy for you! How far along are you? Give me details, even the dirty ones. I want to hear about the conception, too.” I winked at her, and she shook her head, laughing as she rolled her eyes at me.
“I’m about eight weeks.” She reached into her purse that was hanging on the chair and pulled out a black and white sonogram photo, passing it to me over the table.
I looked down at the photo, emotion sitting heavy on my chest. This wasn’t my dream—the whole white picket fence with a couple of kids and a husband thing—but it was hers, and there was something truly special about having a front-row seat when your best friend's dreams came true.
“There’s auntie’s little poppyseed,” I murmured, touching the small blip in the middle of the photo that I knew was the baby.
“Ryder came to the first appointment with me and we got to hear the baby’s heartbeat. I don’t really have many details to give you, honestly. This was our first month actively trying since I got off birth control, and I guess I’m just one of the lucky ones. I feel so grateful to have had it happen so quickly, but I’m still terrified that something will go wrong. My doctor said it’s very normal to feel that way, and that we’re not out of the woods until the twelve week mark. But the baby’s heartbeat is strong and he or she is measuring on track.”
“She,” I said immediately, my eyes meeting Elle’s across the table. “That’s my niece in there.”
Elle’s hand fluttered down to her stomach. “I think so too.”
From my peripheral, I saw our waitress return, tray in hand, balancing a flight of mimosas and two waters. We were quiet as she placed our drinks down in front of us, then Elle ordered herself a Strawberry Shortcake Short Stack and a decaf caramel latte.
“So, what’s up with you? How’s your love triangle going?”
“It’s not a love triangle!” I snapped, but quickly checked my tone. There was no reason to get snippy when I knew she’d meant it in a carefree way. “But…they did share me. Kind of.”
My admission swiftly brought back memories of Cain holding me on his shoulders while he ate me out with Sly watching. That’d been fucking hot. Just the thought had blood rushing to my vagina, my clit tingling as though it was playtime, again.
“Um…spill it. Now. Spare no detail, beginning to end. I’m talkingeverything, sister. Clearly, I’ve missed a lot.”
Where do I even begin?
With a heavy sigh, I picked up the classic mimosa and tossed it back, letting the bubbly tang slide down my throat. As I placed the empty glass down onto the table and picked up the strawberry flavored one next to it, I opened my mouth and caught my best friend up oneverythingthat’d transpired since we last spoke.
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
“Hey, turn that up!” I shouted across the empty bar to one of my employees, Dylan, a young guy who started working here about six months ago. A look of confusion washed over his features, and I tipped my chin toward the T.V., indicatingthat’swhat I wanted turned up.
Thankfully, he needed no further instruction and reached for the remote to crank the volume.
“This is Amber Henry reporting live from outside Indigo Renegade, where last night a young woman was discovered in the back of the nightclub, badly beaten and disoriented. The woman was taken to Ridgewood General Hospital, where she underwent surgery that was considered life-threatening. We have not received updates on her current condition. A source close to the victim confirms she is not a heavy drinker, but started acting extremely intoxicated toward the end of her first drink early in the night. Police are not releasing any information on whether this may be connected to the other young women who were recently drugged and assaulted outside other Ridgewood nightclubs, but they are currently undergoing investigation. We will report back with any breaking updates. This is Amber Henry with RWC News, Channel 7.”
“Fuck,” I groaned, instantly feeling sick to my stomach. I’d heard of what happened at Reggies and Lawless, and had written it off as a fluke. But having it happen a third time…
Pulling out my phone, I went to my recent calls and clicked on Noah’s name. “Pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up,” I chanted as it continuously rang.
“Whitlock,” he barked into the receiver, followed by, “Shit, wrong phone. Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me, asshole.”
