I swear, if we’re not deaf already from all our squealing, after Lottie’s confirmation we will be.
“A little girl!” Stana and I beam.
“Oh my God, I can’t wait to plan a baby shower,” Stana adds in, the wheels behind her eyes already turning with ideas.
“And don’t get me started on a nursery.” I can see it now, baby pinks and whites and yellows.
“Will you two calm down?” Lottie laughs. “I’ve still got three more months, and by then I’m gonna look like a beached whale. We have plenty of time to figure all these things out. I’m exhausted just thinking about it all.”
“I’m so happy for you, Lottie. I know this isn’t exactly how you planned it all to go, but I know this is going to be the most loved baby in all of England.”
“All of the world,” Stana throws in. I wink at her before turning back to Lottie.
“I’ve never been one to follow the crowd, that’s for sure.” With a laugh, she points to the tattoos on her arm and piercings down her ears. “But I’m excited to be a mum. I know it will be a challenge, but I’ve never felt more ready. I know I’ve got the best support unit in all of the UK, even if her dad is a total wanker. We don’t need him. We’re going to make our own little family, without his help.”
“You already have a family, Lottie.” I motion to Stana and myself. “Now it’s just being expanded.”
“It really is.” Her gaze drifts off, a softness surrounding her that isn’t usually here. “Everything is going to change now, isn’t it?”
I place my hand over hers. “For the better, Lottie. It’s all going to change for the better.”
“So, she’s really going to do it?” Reeve says from next to me on the couch. We’re watching Gilmore Girls reruns—well, more like I am and he’s keeping me company. In a shocking turn of events, Demon is snuggled into my side, his chest rising and falling as he sleeps.
“Yep,” I reply, tossing some popcorn into my mouth. “She seems super excited about it. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I definitely think a part of her is scared, but she’s had months to process this. I honestly think it’s more of a shock to us than her.”
I turn to him, his face thoughtful. “What, you don’t think she should?” I ask.
It’s a risky question, one I don’t actually want an answer to, because if Reeve said Lottie was making a mistake, I’m not sure how I would react. It’s her choice, and all we can do is support her.
“It’s not that, Em.” He turns to me, rubbing a hand through his thick hair. “I just know what it’s like growing up without a dad. Christ, I mean, Owen knows too. It’s no easy feat, and I’m not just talking about the kid. Shit will be hard on Lottie too.”
“But she’s strong—she can do it.” I’m quick to defend my friend, not wanting any doubt placed on her.
“It’s not about strength. There are a million different factors she has to take into account.”
“And you don’t think she has?” I snap. “You aren’t in her head, Reeve. I’m sure all of this would have crossed her mind a million times. Lottie isn’t impulsive. She wouldn’t make a rash decision. And Lottie isn’t your mother—she gave Beck a chance to be in his daughter’s life, and he chose not to be.”
As soon as I say it, I know I’ve taken things too far. My anger over Reeve questioning Lottie made me lash out. Protecting her hurt him. I know Reeve isn’t questioning Lottie’s judgment; he’s just scarred from a lifetime of wondering why he wasn’t wanted. But now that he knows the truth, even that seems like too much to digest.
I risk looking at him, guilt eating my insides. He nods, his eyes boring into mine, as if he’s afraid if he speaks, it will all crumble.
“I know Lottie will be a great mother, Emilia. But I come from a situation where I understand first-hand how hard it is. I’m not so blinded by what my mother has done. I know her actions were wrong. But I also know I have a younger brother who has an actual absent dad, and all the money he throws at Louis doesn’t make up for the fact he isn’t there. Those things take a toll on children, because at the end of the day, you’re either wanted by them or you’re not.”
I nod, unsure what to say to him. So we sit in silence, and for the first time, it’s uncomfortable. My fingers dig into the couch cushions, my body tense with regret. Demon must sense it because he’s awake and off the couch, scurrying into Cora’s bedroom. I swear she must have live mice in there.
“I’m sorry for bringing your family into this, Reeve. I don’t mean it as a jab. I just know how much your dad not being a part of your life hurt you.” I pause, knowing I might be about to cross into shaky territory, but I continue. “You never talk about him. Since you told me of his reappearance, I think his name has come up twice, but it’s so quickly dismissed. I can’t imagine how it was to grow up feeling unwanted and then have your entire world be tilted on its axis when you found out what your mother did, but keeping it bottled up won’t help.
“We need to talk about it, Reeve. You’ve been stewing on this for months now, and it’s eating you alive. I want to help you, but I can’t if you don’t let me in.”
I don’t take my eyes off him, unwilling to waver. Reeve said he would make a choice by the new year, but I’m not even asking for that. I just want him to talk about it.
He stays silent, his lips pursed and his gaze burrowing into my own. Reeve is all about control in his life. He rarely drinks, and he works tirelessly to have a stable private personal life. Jesus, I think being with me is the most reckless thing he’s ever done. Not having control over the situation with his father must be killing him.
“I’m not trying to push you,” I say softly, daring to scoot closer, my hand resting upon his thigh. “I’m only trying to help because I care about you.” I love you. It’s what I want to say, but right now, I know it would scare him off.
I’m not sure what part does it, but he softens at my words, his body visibly relaxing. “I know,” he finally replies, grabbing my hand and pulling me into him. I don’t hesitate, crawling into his lap, burying my head in his shoulder.
“We can’t keep everything so bottled up all the time, Reeve. It’s not healthy.”
He stays silent but I feel him nodding against my body. I take his agreement and tighten my hold on him, my fears for our future suddenly growing.
“Are you sure you can’t see?” Reeve’s smooth voice whispers into my ear, my sight obstructed by the blindfold he’s placed over my eyes.
“Can’t see a thing, I swear.”
His chuckle reverberates through his body as he leads me forward. I can’t smell or hear anything distinctive to give away our location.
“Where are we going? Are we breaking into an abandoned building? Stealing a car?”
“I never knew you to be so daring, Emilia Ronan. You could be too dangerous for me if I’m not careful.”
To most people—hell, to everyone—I’m not dangerous at all. But there’s something about Reeve Sawyer that pushes my buttons. I can’t help but always want to go one step farther, perhaps even one step too far. Reeve isn’t remotely comfortable; he drives me out of my comfort zone, always has. I feel as if there’s something to say about people like him. It’s so easy to placate everyone, constantly reaffirm what they want to hear, but it takes someone special to challenge you. Instead of telling you what you want to hear, they tell you what they see as the truth. Reeve has always managed to be that for me. When I cried too much over a boy or my parents, he wouldn’t tell me it would all be okay. Instead he’d pass me a pillow to scream into and tell me how crap it all was. And then after, he would give me the reassurance I needed. It’s what I always respected about him.