“I’m so sorry, Archer.”
“Don’t feel sorry for me.” He sighs. “I don’t want you to waste any time or energy on him.”
I have no idea what to say back. So I just squeeze Archer’s hand tighter and nod. I wish I could talk to Dean about this, to get his advice on how to handle this situation. He’s been through it before, many times I’m guessing, and will know the best way to go about this. I don’t want to push Archer, but Bobby is his brother. He’s family and will always be in Archer’s life…and now mine.
6
Archer
“I’ll call you when I get home.” Quinn slides her hands up my back. She’s already pressed up against my chest, but I pull her in even tighter. I knew her leaving would be hard, but I didn’t expect it to be as hard as it is. This long distance thing fucking sucks, and is made worse with her being pregnant.
Not only do I miss her so much it hurts, I hate leaving her alone to deal with the symptoms brought on by our baby. I want to be there for her, bringing her water after she gets sick in the morning, running out to get whatever food she’s craving, and helping her with just everyday living since I know she’s exhausted.
Having her here with me the last few days felt so natural. We’re supposed to be together, and it’s crazy to think I was right all those years ago when I first saw her. I wanted her then solely based on her appearance, but the more I got to know her, the more she worked her way into my heart.
I spent years denying it. If I had said something back then, after she turned eighteen of course, would something have happened? Would we be married with children already? Or is it presumptuous to assume Quinn would even have wanted me back then?
Pressing my forehead against hers, I close my eyes for a beat, wishing we were back in my bed. “Hopefully you can sleep on the plane.”
“I’ve never been able to sleep on planes. Or in cars. I’m jealous of anyone who can,” she says with a laugh. “At least it’s a short flight.”
“True.” We’re at the airport, and she has to get on the plane in fifteen minutes.
“I don’t want to go,” she says softly, turning her head up to kiss me.
“I wish you didn’t have to.” There’s so much unsaid right now, and bringing it up might sour our otherwise passionate departure. She shouldn’t have to leave. We kiss again, and I walk her farther into the airport. We’re at a smaller one, full of private jets owned by rich businessmen. Quinn, wearing pink leggings, an oversized t-shirt, and pulling a Chewbacca suitcase, looks out of place, but she’s every bit as smart, successful, and well-off as anyone in here.
“And I’ll let you know as soon as I find out about that blood work from my OB,” she says, slowing her gait. We’re nearing the hangar, and her departure is nearing. “Hopefully I can get it as soon as possible. I really want to know what we’re having.”
“Me too.”
“And then we can start talking about names. It’s not too early to get some lists going.”
I smile. The more we talk about the baby like this, the more I feel like we’re a family. “I’d like that.”
We’re by the plane now, and the pilot is waiting. We kiss again, and I have to practically peel myself off Quinn so she can get in the plane and head home. I wave and go back to my car, feeling like a part of me left along with her.
And I think it actually did. Quinn has had part of my heart for years.
Someone knocks on the door, bringing me out of the dream I was having. About Quinn, not surprisingly. I run my hand over my face and sit up. I dozed off on the couch after getting back from the airport. My parents are coming over for dinner, but they shouldn’t be here for another hour and a half.
If they found Bobby, they’d call. Unless they found him at the morgue and are coming to tell me he finally overdosed, that his abused body couldn’t take it any longer. My stomach knots up and my chest tightens. I can’t fucking stand Bobby, but he’s my brother. I want him to get better. I want him to be an uncle to my child and be in our lives again.
I’m a doctor. A realist. People like Bobby don’t recover just because their loved ones want them to. Getting up, I go to the door. Thinking it’s my parents, I open it without looking. It’s not my parents.
It’s Bobby.
My fingers curl into fists. Anger surges through me, and I grab Bobby by the collar and yank him inside.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I demand as Bobby staggers, trying to catch his balance. All I can think about is my fist hitting his face. He holds up his hands, and I notice the scratches on his knuckles.
And the bruises on his face.
Someone already beat the shit out of him, and as angry as I am for him hurting Quinn, a small voice in the back of my mind reminds me he’s sick. Addiction is a disease. I lower my fist, still pissed as fuck.
“What are you doing here?” I repeat through gritted teeth.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
I let out a snort of laughter. Bobby has apologized a hundred times. Half of those times he doesn’t remember saying he’s sorry, and the other half were meaningless words said in hopes we’d be stupid enough to think he was better so he could get more booze or drugs.
“I didn’t know she was pregnant.”
I close the door and round on Bobby. “How do you know she’s pregnant?”
Bobby twitches. “She put her hands over her stomach.” He brings his hands in, fingers trembling. He’s coming down from whatever he took. I need to take him to the hospital and get him checked out. Withdrawal can be dangerous.
“It’s yours, isn’t it?”
“Of course it’s mine,” I snap, then realize all Bobby knows is some girl answered the door wearing a Duke University shirt. Putting two and two together leads you to the conclusion Quinn is my pregnant girlfriend, but I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt.
“Did you tell Mom?”
“Yeah. I did this morning. They’re here in Indy looking for you, you know.”
Bobby smiles. His teeth are decaying, which is a fucking shame. We used to look a lot alike. Now he looks like a cleaned-up model on a ‘many faces of meth’ poster. “Was she excited? Mom’s always loved babies.”
“Yeah. She was pretty excited.”
Bobby swallows hard, still not sure if I’m going to clock him in the jaw or not. “You didn’t get hitched, did you? I’ve been clean long enough I think I’d remember.” He’s trying to be funny, and while he almost is, his words just make me sad.
“No, we didn’t. So yes, before you ask, this baby wasn’t planned.”
Bobby shrugs. “The good things in life never are.”
“I suppose so.”
“Who’s the chick? She’s pretty, but you always did have good-looking girls on
your arm.”
I ignore the subtle insult. “Her name is Quinn.”
“You two been together long?”
“We’ve known each other a long time but didn’t start dating until recently.”
Bobby cocks an eyebrow. “Until you got her pregnant, you mean?”
“Pretty much.” Other than Sam, no one knows the nature of Quinn’s and my relationship.
Bobby laughs. “And I thought you were the smart one. How long have you known her?”
“Do you remember Dean Dawson?”
He blinks, face twitching as he tries to think. I wonder what a scan of his brain would look like. He’s done considerable damage, I’m sure.
“Your roommate in college?”
“Yeah.”
Bobby nods. “You spent a lot of time there. Mom and Dad talk about the Dawsons like they’re the fucking Kardashians.”
I laugh. “They’re much better.”
“They sound like good people.”
“They are. All of them.” I can’t find fault in any of the Dawsons, not even Logan and Owen, whose main reason for opening a bar was to have one-night stands with female patrons.
“Dean’s okay with you dating his sister?” His eyes widen, and he holds up his hand. “Fucking fuck. You knocked up your best friend’s little sister,” he says with a laugh.
I bring my hand to the back of my neck, laughing. “No, he’s not okay with it at all.” And in that moment, it hits me hard right in the chest how much I miss my brother. We were close once. I looked up to Bobby. He was everything an older brother should have been. And then he wasn’t, and suddenly I didn’t matter anymore.
Fuck, I wish things were different. It’s weird to think about, actually. Sitting down with a beer, talking to my brother about how dramatic and stupid Dean is being. Confessing how I’m upset over losing a friend but even angrier about how Dean’s childish behavior is upsetting Quinn.
I’d tell him how I’ve had the hots for Quinn since the first time I saw her when she was only fourteen but looked much older in that tight black dress she was wearing. Fifteen years of friendship and brotherhood is gone, and we’ll never get it back. And I wish with all my heart Bobby could recover. That he could go to rehab and stick with it.