ME: You still in a pissy mood, or can I come over and get some?
That was the message I sent her a little after midnight last night. I wish she hadn’t seen it or responded.
BELLA: I guess you’re drunk again. Say hi to Star for me, and tell her not to fuck anyone on your bed when you get a new one. Please.
ME: Star isn’t here. Just some other people. Come over and make it up to me for leaving like a punk the other night.
BELLA: Thanks, but no thanks. I’m good.
ME: I know you’re good. That’s why I want you over here.
BELLA: Glad you want me for sex. Good to know. Good night. I have work tomorrow.
ME: Really? That’s it? You’re blowing me off again?
BELLA: I have a job.
ME: Lose the job and come ride me.
ME: Seriously come over.
ME: Are you ignoring me?
ME: Fine. What the fuck ever. Bye.
And now I want to punch myself. Every time I read them back, they seem worse. I’ve sent several messages since I woke up over an hour ago and realized what I’d done.
ME: Sorry about last night. I’ll hide my phone from now on.
ME: Hey, what time you get off? I’ll pick you up and take you out to dinner o
r something.
ME: I realize I’m an asshole, but please text me back or call. I’m sorry.
Inwardly groaning, I toss my phone to the side. She hasn’t messaged back, and she hasn’t called. All the while, I’m stewing in my stupidity.
Funny how all I ever wanted was my freedom, yet now I’m begging a chick to tether me to her. It’s harder to sway her opinion about having fun with me, if she’s miserable, and then I go and drunk text her on top of that.
I’ve replayed the party events in my head a few times, and decided it wasn’t any one thing that set her off and made her ready to leave. Next time, I’ll just keep her with me all night, just like I should have done this time.
My phone chimes, and I practically rip it up from the table to check it. Unfortunately, it’s just another ping from that motherfucking MILF dating site Bella added me to. Damn her.
Getting up, I stuff my phone into my pocket and grab my keys.
It’s a short drive to Rye’s garage, and I pull in, seeing it full to the brim with people waiting to have shit done. I forgot Brin recently started working for Rye as his office manager, since his other one quit without notice and Brin couldn’t stand her boss at the museum anymore.
Brin waves when she sees me, but it’s more of a polite gesture, because she’s a whirlwind of motion as she deals with people who are coming in. Rye is downstairs in the garage, and I see him through one of the viewing windows.
Deciding he’s too busy to do anything else, I head out, waving at Brin, who doesn’t even notice me this time. Wren will have Allie at home with him, because she’s started handling all his things like an assistant—one he never even knew he desperately needed.
Tag… Fuck, Tag has a new baby, but I still drive over to his place.
When I get there, he opens the door for me, looking exhausted as he holds the tiny little baby girl in his arms, and walks with Trip attached to his leg like it’s his favorite seat in the house.
“Damn,” I drawl, looking him over. “Aren’t you the family man.”
He rolls his eyes and gestures me in, and I walk inside to see baby pins, baby toys, and baby clothes scattered everywhere between the little guy on his leg and the pink bundle in his arms.