Her mom couldn’t be more right. Jana’s wearing red. A fucking red dress, red heels, and red lipstick, and my dick’s been hard since I picked her up.
“I said the same, Mrs. Gerhardt.” I smile at Jana and her cheeks pinken.
“Charlotte, please,” her mom says, looking over our shoulders. “Go, you two. Enjoy your evening. And after you win that Cup, the first line of business is for you to come here.”
Jana groans. “We will, Mother.”
The two of us step into the main room where two bars have been set up.
“What do you want to drink?” I ask.
“Just a white wine.” She waves to her friends in the corner.
“I’ll bring it to you.” I kiss her cheek, and I catch a few people noticing.
I head toward the bar where Aiden, Ford, and Warner are.
“She had this crying fit over mascara. These hormones are crazy fuckers,” Warner says as I approach.
“Lena hasn’t been pregnant yet. We’re waiting for Annabelle to get older. But now you have me terrified.” Ford drinks his beer.
I eavesdrop while I order our drinks.
“Saige isn’t even pregnant, and the other day, I’m watching March Madness and she starts picking up my plate on the coffee table and telling me this isn’t a frat house. Last March Madness, she did a bracket with me, and we hung out at a bar the entire time. Some of the late-night games, we were in bed naked. What a difference a year makes.”
That sounds like it sucks. Jana would never do that. Then again, Aiden didn’t think Saige would either.
“Hey, boys,” I say.
“You’re still in the bubble, so you can’t join in.” Warner clinks his glass with Aiden and Ford.
“Where’s Maksim?”
“He’s in the bathroom. Paisley’s not feeling great.”
I nod and go deliver the drink to Jana, and she thanks me with a kiss. “Ladies,” I say, but I overhear the women complaining about the men.
This is the last thing either of us needs after we just told each other we loved each other a couple weeks ago.
Heading back toward the boys, I decide at the last minute to head outside, not wanting to hear them complaining about the women in their lives.
The sky is dark over the Gulf, only a sliver of the moon casting a trickle of light. I sip my drink and clasp it in two hands, wondering what it would be like to live in a house like this as a little kid.
“You’re Kane Burrows, right?” A man comes up to me, putting out his hand. “Ty Irving. I went to school with Jana.”
I shake his hand. “Good to meet you.”
“I hate to be forward, but I have a question for you… are the two of you a couple?”
The guy has his blond hair swept to the side, and his thin figure—which reminds me more of a runner’s body—doesn’t do a lot for his tuxedo. Then again, the fact that he’s asking me about my girlfriend has my defenses up, so maybe I’m biased.
“Yes, we’re together.”
His head rocks back and disappointment flashes across his face. “I thought so. I only came tonight to see her, then I saw you two when you delivered her drink. Figured it was more than just boss and employee.” He laughs. I don’t. “Good luck, man. Although I’ll warn you, she’s not really a long-term kind of girl.”
“I don’t need luck. And maybe she just hadn’t met the right person.” I arch an eyebrow.
He pats my shoulder in a condescending move. If we weren’t at the Gerhardts’, his ass would be on the ground by now. “That’s what all the ones before you thought too.”
I shake my head, and he heads down the outside stairs. I overhear him talking to someone else.
“Yeah, Jana’s banging him. Can you believe it? Her standards sure have fallen.”
Usually, what some spoiled prick of a rich kid thinks wouldn’t bother me, but this guy is definitely under my skin.
“There you are.” Jana’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I turn to find her walking toward me.
“Just met a friend of yours.” I tip my drink to my lips.
She doesn’t stop until she’s in my arms, and I hold her close for a moment longer than normal. “Who?”
“Ty Irving?”
Her scowl is immediate. “He’s such an asshole, so I’ll apologize now for whatever he said to you.”
I kiss her temple. “No need.”
And I mean it. I love this woman. I’m the one who’s slowly pulling her out of her shell and allowing her to feel safe and comfortable to be who she is. Oh, and I’m the first man she’s ever loved besides her father, so Ty Irving can go fuck himself.
I pick up my phone and see I’m due at the doctor’s office in an hour. “Crap!”
“What?” Kane rolls over, his arm slapping where I was just lying in his bed. “Come back.”
“I have to get to the doctor.” I run into his bathroom, stripping my clothes off as I go.
Rocky picks up his head from his dog bed, but he lies back down when he sees I’m not leaving the room.
“Doctor? Did I know about this?” Kane follows me into the bathroom and rests his hip on the vanity.
“Didn’t I tell you?”
He tenses. “No. Is there something I need to know?”
I turn on the water in the shower, put my hand under the spray, and shut the glass door since it’s still too cold. The one disadvantage of Kane’s house is his crappy water heater.
“No, just you know how occasionally there’s some blood when we…” I don’t finish because he should understand.
“And?”
“And that shouldn’t be happening. I’ve started to bleed a bit between periods, and I’m not sure if it’s the pill or whatever.”
“But you’re not…”
I shake my head. “No, I’m not pregnant.”
Finally, the water is hot enough for me to go in. I get under the water and quickly shampoo my hair, feeling his eyes on me through the fogged-up glass. “Kane, there’s nothing wrong.”
“If there was nothing wrong, you wouldn’t be going to the doctor.”
“True, but this isn’t life or death or pregnancy. This is just my body reacting to something. Maybe too much sex.” I wipe my hand over the condensation and wink through the glass, but he remains silent.
“I’m going with you.”
“No, you’re not.” I shake my shaving cream container and find it empty. “Can I borrow some shaving cream?”
“Is this doctor a man or woman?”
“Woman.”
“Either way, why do you have to shave to see them?”
I open the door and a rush of steam pours through the crack. He hands me the can of shaving cream. I’m not sure the last time he used it.
“Because I’m going to have to spread my legs for her, and I want to make sure I look good.”
“Babe, you look good. No worries on the primping.”
“Good hygiene isn’t primping,” I say, running the razor up my leg the fastest I can.
“I’d still like to go with you.”