“Sweet baby Jesus,” Jake whispers.
“Could you two leave or something?” I mutter.
“I . . .” Jake makes a fist and bites his knuckles. “I don’t really want to.”
“We can’t leave until you promise not to burn it,” Levi says. “It’s a little-known fact, but every time a piece of lingerie is stripped off a woman, a Victoria’s Secret angel gets her wings.”
“Fashion show?” Jake suggests.
“You’re both pigs,” Teagan says, but she’s grinning.
Levi shakes his head. “If loving beautiful women is wrong, I don’t wanna be right.”
“What’s going on up here?” Ethan says, coming up behind Levi. “Brunch is on the table.” His gaze drops to the bed then he lifts it to meet mine, and my cheeks blaze even hotter. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, but he doesn’t say anything before turning to his brothers. “Nic has the morning off. Give her some fucking privacy.”
Ethan turns to leave and the boys bite back their grins, bow their heads, and leave my room, but Levi throws me a wink over his shoulder as he goes.
My phone rings and Teagan grabs it off the bed before I can. “Nic,” she says, her eyes going wide. “Oh, shit, Nic.”
“What?” I reach out for my phone. “Who is it?”
She places it in my hand. “It’s Marcus.”
I snatch the phone from her hand, immediately panicked that something terrible has happened to Veronica. “Hello?”
“Nic, thank you so much for taking my call,” he said. “Christ, I’ve missed you more than you can believe.”
“Marcus? Is Veronica okay?”
“She not here right now. She’s down at the clinic . . .” He clears his throat. “Um, prenatal stuff?”
I meet Teagan’s eyes. She folds her arms and shakes her head. “Don’t let him sweet-talk you,” she says in a stage whisper.
“Why are you calling me?” I ask Marcus.
“Because I miss you. I made a terrible mistake. You and me, we were good together, weren’t we?”
I blink. What a fucking douchebag. “Were we?” I ask. “You had me give up everything I loved so I could take care of you. You never touched me but screwed around with my sister.”
“But I loved you. I still do.” He sounds weak, like a whiny little boy. Did he always sound like that, or have I become so used to Ethan’s deep, self-assured voice that Marcus doesn’t sound like a man anymore?
“You loved that I idolized you. That I cooked for you and picked up after you. You didn’t love me.”
“That’s not fair,” he says.
“Really? What’s my favorite TV show? How do I like my coffee? What’s my dream job?”
Teagan grins and gives me a double thumbs-up from the bed.
“None of that matters. All that matters is you and me.” He lowers his voice. “You miss me too, don’t you? Just admit it. Admit it and I’ll get on the first plane to come get you. Bring you home where you belong.”
“Goodbye, Marcus. Don’t call me again.”
Nicole
“Do you expect me to believe you?” Veronica asks softly.
It’s taken me all day to work up the courage to call my sister. I had to process Marcus’s phone call enough to know my next move.
“I don’t expect anything, Ronnie.” I swallow hard when her old nickname slips out. I didn’t mean to use it. That was the name I whispered in the dark when we were kids placed in a new home. The name I called out when I was lonely and needed to reach for the only person I could count on to be there. “I just wanted you to know the truth.”
“So . . .” She draws in a ragged breath. “Are you going to take him back?”
“What?” I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head. Is she insane?
“Because, in case you’ve forgotten, I’m pregnant over here.” She sounds like she’s crying, and the sound tugs at my heart, even though I don’t want it to. I want to be cold toward my sister. She betrayed me.
But she’s my sister.
“I called to tell you that you can’t trust him, not to tell you I’m taking him back. Marcus and I are never getting back together. Never.”
“And you don’t want me to be with him either?”
“I didn’t say that. I just wanted you to know he called me, and if he called me while he’s supposed to be with you, and you when he was supposed to be with me, who knows who else he’s going to call?” I take a breath and contemplate whether I’m going to say more. I told myself this was a fact-giving call—no interpretation, no analysis, no persuasion—and yet here I am, trying to make her see him for the lying cheat he is. “I don’t want you to tie yourself to someone you can’t trust.”
“You’re coming home, then? You’re going to help me raise this baby?”
“I’m not coming back to Jeffe.” I’ve already decided that. I don’t know where I’ll land, but it won’t be there.