Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
SEVEN VIRTUES, NORTH CAROLINA
Sometimes stepping away from a situation can give you an entirely new perspective.
—The Fireside Psychologist
Four Years Ago—May
Last night, my best friend blew into town and now finally, my apartment above Galileo’s feels like home. Austyn admired the space I decorated in my quirky, signature style. “This place is exactly like you described.”
I sit down on the guest room bed and curl my leg beneath me. “I love it here, Austyn. I never expected to.”
Her penetrating blue eyes—eyes she inherited from her infamous father—spear into mine. “You’re the one who left UT.”
“Did it feel right to you after everything that happened?”
“Nothing would have felt right except being in New York.” A flash of sadness ripples across her face.
I quickly change the subject so she doesn’t need to discuss the reason she’s on this short tour just yet. “I don’t know why, but being in Seven Virtues feels right.”
Her face brightens and she teases, “So much you don’t feel like moving to New York with me this summer?”
I fan myself. “Now, I’m not opposed to meeting your hot as fuck father, but still, this place is home.” I pat the bed next to me and she sits down. When she does, her dress catches beneath her and I spy the bump just below her waistline. My voice trembles, barely managing to confirm the name of the father—the rat bastard she caught cheating on her at the nightclub she was performing at, no less. The magnitude of the secret she’s hiding from the world explains the deep shadows beneath her eyes and the sallow color of her skin. “Does Paige know? Your father?”
“Mama, yes. Not my father. I’m not sure how he’d react.”
I scoff. “Like he has room to talk. You’re walking, talking proof of him being a hypocrite if that was the case.”
She shoves me, but I spy the twitches of a smile trying to lift the corners of her mouth. We talk about who does or, more importantly, who doesn’t know. Especially the baby’s father. I snarl out, “The bastard doesn’t deserve to know.”
Wearily, she pushes a hand over her multi-colored hair. “Eventually, you know I’ll have to tell him.”
I smooth my hand over her hair, offering her what comfort I can. Then my body shakes with suppressed laughter. “I do have one question though.”
“Ask away.”
“Are all you Kensington women so damn fertile?”
Austyn chokes back a laugh before she replies, “We must be.”
She lays her head in my lap and we talk about some of the more crazy aspects of her pregnancy. Finally, she blinks up at me, tears making her eyes look like big pools. “What the hell is wrong with me?”
Ferociously, I say, “Not a damn thing. You fell in love with a douchebag. Someone you’re better off not having in your life.” Kind of the way I’ve forced myself to close myself off from communicating with Ethan unless it directly pertains to Austyn.
There’s no need to feed my soul with hope. But as much as I feel that way about my own love life, I pour every ounce of hope into my best friend because she and my future niece or nephew deserve all the love the world has to offer.
After blowing my mind with news the world hopefully won’t be aware of for a long time to come, I finally ask Austyn, “What’s it like on the road?”
“Riddled with glitz and glamour. Party every night.”
“Uh-huh. Try selling it to someone who hasn’t known you as long as I have.”
“God, you’re such a bitch. I’ve missed you so much.”
“I missed you too.” Never have truer words been spoken.