I lean into her shoulder and lift the booze from the sand between her feet, screw off the cap, and take a hearty swig. She holds her hand out for the bottle and I pass it to her, reluctantly. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, Freckles.”
“I’m so sorry this happened to you.”
“I don’t know why I’m so messed up over this. I never wanted kids.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t change your mind. I’ve never wanted them either, yet when you told me that Annie was pregnant, the smallest part of me was resentful that you were going to be a dad, and that would likely never happen for me.”
“You can’t be a dad, Freckles.”
She bumps my shoulder with hers and hands me back the bottle. “You know what I mean.”
“I guess it’s for the best.”
“Totally,” she says with a vigorous nod. “But ... just so we’re clear, you mean this thing with Annie, right? Not me being a dad.”
“When I thought of that kid, she didn’t have mine or Annie’s face ... she had yours.”
And just like that, in true Gabe fashion, he lights the match, flicks it toward the gasoline, and blows my whole fucking world apart.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
One year later
Lo
Twenty-nine
Twenty-nine.
Twenty-freaking-nine.
I stare at the tattoo on my ring finger, so pale you can barely see it. I’d given Gabe a hard time about using white ink that night, but now I was sort of glad. For one, Mace would likely pitch a bitch fit if Gabe’s bold, black tat stared back at him every time I wrapped my hand around his cock. And second, I kind of liked having a little secret that was all mine and Gabe’s.
The night we made that stupid pact flashes in my mind—his proud expression, how he’d looked at me as he spoke those words, and the hot, messy, drunk kiss that had happened as a precursor to our tattooed promises.
We’d never talked about it, never even mentioned the tattoos or the pact since, so it’s odd that my chest tightens the longer I stare at that one little word—his.
Mace rolls over with a grunt and launches out of bed, staggering to the bathroom. He’s so cute with his hair all disheveled, his face puffy from sleep as he drags his naked ass across the room. He slams the door shut with his foot and I shake my head and reach for my phone on my nightstand.
Gabe: Hey, birthday girl. Congrats on another year older.
I smile at my screen and type out my reply.
Me: Thanks. What did you get me?
Gabe: Oh, shit. I was supposed to get you something?
Me: You ass.
Gabe: Kidding. Let me know when you’re out of bed so I can make you breakfast.
Me: Okay.
Gabe: Mace give you his present yet?
Me: No, he just woke up.
Gabe: Oh good. Then you can tell him he’s already an hour late to work.