Chapter 22
I adjust my light pink tank top after Grayson finishes nursing just as the doorbell rings. “I’ve got it,” I shout to James, who is still busy in the kitchen as Lainey eats a small snack to tide her over until dinner is ready.
I’m chock-full of nerves and really want to make a good first impression with James’s friends. I know this is a casual night, not a dinner party or anything serious, but I decided to dress up a bit nicer than usual. I’ve foregone my leggings or jeans in favor of a white skirt that ends a few inches above my knees and flows around my thighs as I move.
After we got back from the grocery store, James sat and watched me give myself a pedicure with fascination, and I teased him relentlessly about it as soon as I was done, making the tips of his ears turn red. My bright pink toenail polish pops against the fancy white sandals I’ve paired with my outfit.
I feel cute with my hair hanging down in soft waves and slightly more makeup applied than usual. More put-together. Happy and eager to meet his friends, who I hope will become my friends after tonight.
I switch Grayson to one shoulder and answer the door with a wide smile. “Hi! Please come in,” I say way too loudly in all my excitement, and I inwardly cringe. I step back and hold the door open for them, but none of the three adults make a move to enter, giving me time to take stock of them.
The guy standing closest to me is even taller than James, with deep, dark skin. He has short, tightly curled black hair, a wider-set square jaw, and an orange backpack slung over his shoulder. Behind his black-rimmed glasses, his rich brown eyes are huge, and his mouth parts with an audible puff of air.
Standing behind him is another guy, much shorter and paler than James. He has curly red hair that falls just past his shoulders and a full red beard. Much like the first guy, his mouth hangs open, though he recovers faster and gives me a timid smile.
The woman standing next to him has gorgeous chestnut-brown hair and green eyes. She, too, is wearing a skirt, but it’s a short black and red plaid pattern worn over sheer black tights that end in shiny, platform combat boots.
With her tight, low-cut black T-shirt and pointy burgundy nails, she is, in short, way cooler than me and seriously stunning. Well, she would be if she weren’t eyeing me with suspicion and a pinched expression. Strike that, she’s still pretty, but I’m taken aback by the way she pushes her way through the guys and into the house with a huff.
“Who are you? Where’s James?” she demands.
My smile falters, but I force it back in place. I’m sure she’s just confused and hasn’t realized who I am yet. I mean, I’d be hesitant if a stranger answered his door, especially if it was another woman, though that shouldn’t matter to her since she and James are just friends.
“He’s just finishing up in the kitchen. Oh! Speak of the devil,” I say as James comes around the corner with a big, toothy smile, and Lainey sitting on his arm. I’m not the only one dressed up a little nicer than usual. He looks so handsome in the dark blue Henley that makes his blue eyes pop and black jeans, both of which he let me pick out for tonight.
“Hey guys, long time no see,” James says to the group.
The woman forgets all about me as she accepts James’s side hug with an even wider smile than his, though her eyes flick to Lainey and quickly away. The guys are all back slaps and bro hugs after they step inside. James is more animated than I’ve seen him with anyone else save for me, and it’s so good to see him surrounded by friends. It’s such a striking contrast to how he interacted with his family, and it makes my heart happy that he has these three in his life.
I close the door and follow the group out of the small entryway into the living room. When James’s eyes land on me, he motions me to his side, and I gladly step into him as he rests his hand on my lower back.
Before James can introduce me, the taller man in pressed dark blue jeans rocks back on his Nikes and says, “Ah, you must be the infamous babysitter, Shayla. Hi”—he holds out his hand for me to shake—“I’m Isaiah. It’s really nice to meet you. I’ve heard you’ve been nothing short of a lifesaver. And this little man must be Grayson, yeah?” He shakes his chubby little fist next, and I smile at the gesture and the gummy smile Grayson gives him. “Cute, real cute.” Except he’s not looking at Grayson when he says it. He’s looking at me.
James clears his throat and slips his hand around my hip, which makes Isaiah smirk. “This here is Martin,” James says as he gestures to the redhead in a Metallica band T-shirt and much-loved red Converse.
“Hello. Good to meet you,” Martin says, surprising the hell out of me with the deepest, smoothest voice I’ve ever heard in my life. Holy moly, that voice!
“Oh wow, I bet you’d make a killing as an audiobook narrator,” I say with awe.
Martin’s face flames as red as his hair when we shake hands, and he cracks a small, closed-mouthed smile. James and Isaiah guffaw and Isaiah slaps him on the shoulder at his embarrassment. Oops.
James motions to the stunning, suspicious woman. “And lastly, this is—”
“Mara.” She gives me a faux saccharine-sweet smile that doesn’t match her tone. When I take her hand to shake it, she squeezes mine in an unexpectedly cold, tight grip. “You’re not joining our game, are you?”
I subtly shake out my hand when she finally releases it. “Oh no, I don’t know how to play. And besides, I’ll have my hands full with these two, isn’t that right, Grayson?” I say as I nuzzle his cheek when he wiggles in my arms.
“Oh, isn’t he just the cutest little boy! Can I hold him?” she asks James in a much sweeter tone, giving him a wide-eyed puppy look I don’t like.
I reluctantly pass Grayson to her, and she grimaces at his weight. He eats like a champ, all those extra calories I consume contributing to his adorably chunky rolls. It’s clear in the way she holds him away from her that she’s not used to holding a baby. I’m quick to show her how to do so more comfortably, for both their sakes, which she seems to take offense to. She quickly fixes her face and coos at Grayson when James frowns at her.
Awkwardness fills the room, but thankfully, Isaiah breaks it by asking, “And who’s this little munchkin?” Lainey squeals in delight and kicks her legs when he tickles her chin, which makes everyone but Mara laugh.
“This is my Angelainey,” James replies.
“Your Angelainey, huh? Interesting name,” he says with his eyebrows raised.
“Her name is actually Lainey, but James calls her ‘Angelainey’,” I say.
“Because she’s my little angel,” James says with pride, and I’m sure I’m giving him all the heart eyes when he kisses her temple.
“And she’s your…niece?” Isaiah asks, his eyes switching from James to me and back again.
“Oh no, she’s my daughter,” I correct. I almost said our daughter, but I’m not sure how James would react to that just yet. I’m not sure how I would react to saying that out loud, either.
Mara snorts, though the guys must miss it because none of them look her way. I do, though, and I notice she’s not cooing over Grayson anymore as she looks me up and down. Judging by the sour look on her face, one that she instantly drops when James looks her way again, I get the distinct feeling she was only putting on a show for James’s benefit before.
Just one of the guys, my ass.
“What’s this?” Martin asks as he picks up my open history book that I left on the coffee table and flips it so he can see the cover. His voice really is sexy as hell, though I internally scold myself for having that thought. I’m sure women swoon over him whenever he speaks, though it personally does nothing for me, not when I have James and the sinfully sexy words he whispered in my ear last night.
“Oh, do you go to Lone Star?” Isaiah asks as he takes the book from Martin and thumbs through it. “I went there for my first two years. Professor Hardwick was a hardass, but the class was good. Though, I don’t remember this textbook. Must have switched to a new one after I left.”
“No, I’m a senior at Calhoun, but I might go to LSCC after I graduate.”
Isaiah raises his eyebrows again, which makes me think James hasn’t told them much about me, like how old I am, for starters. I chew the inside of my cheek, suddenly unsure of myself, and want to pull James aside to ask him if he’s told them we’re together. But just then, the timer on the oven starts beeping, and he leads the guys into the kitchen.
I’m about to follow on their heels when Mara asks, “Calhoun High School?” She laughs and shakes her head when I nod. “So you got pregnant at what? Sixteen or seventeen?” It seems to be a rhetorical question since she snorts before I can respond and mutters under her breath, “Figures.”
Before I can ask her what the hell she means by that, she hurries out of the room toward the kitchen with Grayson, still laughing, and that does it for me. I’ve only known her for less than fifteen minutes, and she’s already solidified her spot in my book as a mean girl.
A scary thought sinks its claws in my stomach—what if her opinion of me colors the way James sees me? He was offended by how his family treated me, stood up to Tyler for me, and made the very big, very serious proclamation that Lainey is his. But what if, after tonight, he regrets moving so fast? What if he regrets what he said about Lainey?
No, no. I trust James. Trust that his feelings for me and my daughter are genuine and won’t be derailed by one person’s low opinion, no matter how close he and Mara are. I take a minute to give myself a little pep-talk—I’ve got this. I’ve dealt with girls like her before, and I can do it again—then try on a smile as I finally make my way into the kitchen.
They’re all sitting at the table in the breakfast nook with full plates of food. Martin and Isaiah make a big deal about how good my baked ham and cheese sliders are. My mood lifts as they fawn over the spread James and I have put out—homemade spinach artichoke dip, the sliders they’re scarfing down, bacon cheddar potato skins, plus the wings James picked up from a nearby restaurant.
“It’s official, James. You have to hire her for every game night from now on. Pizza and beer just won’t cut it after this,” Isaiah jokes before popping another potato skin into his mouth.
“Well, we still have beer. What can I get you?” I rattle off a list of the IPAs we bought, as well as the regular twelve-pack James says he typically buys. I pop the bottle caps off and pass them out, accepting their warm thanks.
James smiles when I hand him his IPA while he bounces Lainey on his knee and eats one-handed. He switches between taking a bite, then handing her little bits of his food for her to try. I catch myself halfway to leaning down to kiss his cheek but cover it up by kissing the top of Lainey’s head instead. I don’t want to make things awkward for James, especially with Mara’s attention hyper-fixated on us from where she’s sitting next to him, holding Grayson in another uncomfortable position.
She jumps into the conversation when James turns to say something to me, stealing his attention. “I’m so sorry for not coming over before to help out. You know how busy I’ve been at work. Everyone always needs me on their teams.” She rolls her eyes as if she’s put out by it, but she’s just bragging. She rests her hand on his upper arm and leans into him, her puppy-eyes back in full force. “But really, now that the Krueger project is finished, if you ever need help that you don’t have to pay for”—she looks pointedly at me—“just call. Day or night,” she stresses. “I’m here for you whenever you need me.”
I cringe at her dig about paying for help. It’s true that James still pays me, though I think he would know by now that I’d still be here, happily taking care of him and Grayson, even if he didn’t. Because we’re together, right?
Suddenly, I’m bombarded with a vision of Mara taking my place, of her happily taking care of him and Grayson. I try to shake it off, but I can’t help imagining what people would think if she and James were to go out together. She looks more like Grayson than I do, and people would probably assume she is his mother, which makes me nauseous to think about. He’s mine, I remind myself. Even if we don’t look alike, he’s still mine.
James doesn’t shrug Mara’s hand off, but he does put my mind at ease when he says, “Thanks, but Shayla is all I need. She’s been a godsend, truthfully.”
I take a deep, calming breath and return the smile he gives me. He only needs me, he said so himself, and I relax a fraction, hoping she’ll back down. Mara’s sour expression is back in place, but once again, she hides it when James turns back to the table. I don’t think Isaiah and Martin miss it this time, though, as Martin pinches his lips together, and Isaiah leans back in his chair as he watches Mara.
I’m relieved when Grayson starts fussing, all too happy to pluck him from her hold when he reaches for me. She dusts off her shirt like he was dirty or something, and I shoot her a nasty look, offended on his behalf. Lainey’s head droops against James’s chest, her hands and face covered in cheese.
Since it’s fully dark outside now and well past their bedtime, James stands with Lainey in his arms to help me with their bedtime routine, but I shoo him away. He kisses them both as we say our goodnights while Isaiah empties his backpack, spreading out their game board.
I haul both babies down the hall to give them their baths and can hear James and his friends in the kitchen with the bathroom door cracked open a sliver. They seem to take their game very seriously, but I can’t help but laugh a little at the fake voice James adopts for his character. It’s nice hearing him having such a good time hanging out with his friends, even if Mara happens to be one of them.
It does make me a little sad, almost envious, that I don’t have friends of my own. A few tried to stick by me after I had Lainey, but they eventually fell off. I don’t fault them for it since I wasn’t all that interested in hanging out with anyone if I couldn’t bring Lainey, and I preferred spending my time at home with her.
I think back to Eden and smile inwardly at the possibility of us being friends. I really, really hope we will. She’s close to my age and might end up struggling with the same things I have once she has her baby, especially if Tyler doesn’t stick around, and I’ll be happy to help her through it if she wants me to. Even if she doesn’t want or need my help, we’ll be around each other a lot so our babies can bond as siblings, and hopefully, we’ll form our own bond.
I rock Grayson to sleep as Lainey settles herself in the crib James bought two weekends ago, which matches Grayson’s and replaces her former travel crib. It’s positioned head to head next to Grayson’s on the back wall so the babies can see and babble at each other when they wake up from their naps. It’s so cute seeing them do so through the baby monitor, and it fills my heart with warmth. Siblings.
Once Grayson is just on the verge of falling asleep, I lay him down in his crib. I wait for both to fall asleep completely, then tiptoe my way back to the front of the house. I pop into the kitchen to grab a plate of food that James put aside and kept warm for me, apologizing for interrupting their game when they all look up at the same time.
“They’re staying?” Mara questions with some bewilderment, referring to me and Lainey.
“Yeah, in case Grayson wakes up.” James scratches the back of his neck, though he’s still entirely focused on the gameboard.
My heart squeezes in my chest when I realize that his friends really do think I’m just the babysitter. They don’t know about us, that neither of us can sleep unless we’re together, that Grayson is mine, that I’m not just here in case Grayson wakes up. Which means James doesn’t want them to know, or else he would have told them.
It takes everything in me not to react to that knowledge. My mind scrambles to think up a plausible explanation, one that will protect my heart and stop me from spiraling before I have the chance to talk to James.
Ah, that’s it. Maybe he just hasn’t had the chance to talk to them yet. That’s probably what it is. It takes some of the sting out of the hurt, and I briefly brush the back of James’s hair with my fingertips, needing to touch him to reassure myself.
But then Mara asks me jokingly, “Isn’t it past your bedtime, too?” It’s not really a joke, though. It’s another dig at my age.
I look to James to see if he’ll say anything about her rude question, but I’m not sure he’s listening as he studies his cards. I decide not to say anything, choosing to ignore her to keep the peace and settle on the couch in the living room with my history textbook and eat my dinner.
I can’t concentrate on anything, though, since I can see them at the table from my position, and I pick at my food as my stomach sinks like a rock. And because I can’t concentrate, I don’t miss the obvious ways Mara keeps flirting with James, the little touches she brushes against his arm, and the way she keeps scooting her chair closer to him, fawning over each play.
Red-hot jealousy burns in my veins, and my head pounds with a headache forming behind my eyes. I can’t stand seeing another woman all over him, but I’m the tiniest bit mollified by the way James seems completely oblivious to it.
Part of me wonders why they aren’t together when it’s obvious to probably everyone except James that Mara is interested in him. She’s seriously gorgeous, and they have so much in common. What if one day he suddenly looks at her, sees how she looks at him, how she flirts and touches him, and decides he wants to give her a shot? See if they click as more than just friends.
It would break me.
When Martin drains the last of his beer and places his hands on the table like he’s going to stand to get another, I hop up from the couch.
“Sit, sit. I’ll get it.” I take his empty bottle and hand him a new one, then ask the table, “Anyone else need anything while I’m up?”
I hand Isaiah his drink after he politely asks for a different IPA, and I lean over James with my hand on his shoulder to place his drink in front of him.
James pats my hand and smiles. “Thank you, angel.”
Mara scoffs. “Seriously? He calls you ‘angel’? What’s next? Are you going to start calling her ‘sweetie’, Isaiah?” she asks sarcastically as her eyes flit around the table. “How about ‘honey’, Martin?”
“What’s the problem with James calling me ‘angel’?” I ask with my hand on my hip when I straighten, though I keep my other on James’s shoulder.
She snorts in an ugly way. “Just saying, you’ll never catch me running around trying to please the menfolk as they call me patronizing pet names.”
“What the hell, Mara?” She’s finally got James’s attention, though I don’t think it’s the kind she wanted, what with how he’s gaping at her.
“She’s just being nice,” Martin says with a slightly chiding tone. “Nothing wrong with that.” He tips his bottle at me. “I, for one, appreciate it.”
“Seriously. This is the best game night we’ve had, thanks to Shayla,” Isaiah adds. His brows dip, and he grumbles, “Some people could stand to be a little nicer.”
Mara rolls her eyes and decides to double down. “Ugh, men. Always taken in by a pretty face and big tits, even if they’re dumb as rocks. Not that I’m saying you’re dumb or anything, angel…though you did get knocked up in high school.”
She’s really stuck on that fact, isn’t she? It’s jarring how many people treat me like crap just because I’m a teen mom. They act like having a baby at a young age makes me dirty, like I have a contagious disease when in reality, Lainey is my greatest, most precious gift.
James growls, “That is enough—”
Mara is on a roll now and cuts James off, and he lets her. “Oh, come on, James. You’re better than this.” She pats his arm and, with faux concern, says to me, “For your sake, cupcake, I hope you figure out how to get men to pay attention to you without throwing your tits around and being their little servant girl when you grow up.” She barks out a laugh like she’s just made the funniest joke and looks around at the guys, perhaps expecting them to agree with her, but the kitchen has gone dead silent.
My pulse pounds behind my eyes with impending tears. “Fuck you,” I grit out as I choke on her insults. As much as I try to hold them back, I can’t stop the tears from falling, and an ugly smirk tugs at the corner of her lip with satisfaction that she’s made me cry.
James is up and out of his seat so fast that his chair falls backward on the tiled floor, and I jump back. I’ve seen him pissed off on my behalf before, but this is a whole new level of rage. I wait for him to put Mara in her place, but it’s not her he’s looking at with his jaw clenched, grinding his teeth. It’s me, and there’s not a hint of the usual kindness and adoration in his eyes or the protectiveness to his stance after I just cursed at one of his best friends.
I roll and bite my lips and drop my eyes to the floor, feeling like I’m suffocating. I’m saved from seeing or hearing what James will do or say next when I hear Grayson crying from the nursery. I rush out of the kitchen, discreetly wiping my tears away, though it’s useless since they’ve already seen them fall. Goes to show no matter how thick my skin may be since I got pregnant with Lainey, I’m not immune to peoples’ hostility like I wish I were.
Thankfully, Lainey is somehow still sound asleep, and I pick Grayson up from his crib, humming to him so he’ll calm. He has a full diaper, which is probably what woke him, though I’m sure the booming crash of James’s chair didn’t help matters. I make quick work of changing him, and even though he just nursed an hour and a half ago, he roots at my chest, so I settle on the rocking chair with him.
I can just barely make out a heated conversation through the closed door, and I feel even worse. I cry silently, the tears coming faster and faster as I think over every barb Mara hurled at me.
All I wanted was to make a good first impression, what with all the food I helped cook and this silly outfit I put on. I thought it was pretty at the time, but now I think the pink and white make me look even younger than I am.
Is that why James didn’t tell any of them that I’m more than just his hired babysitter? Is he embarrassed by my age? That I’m still in high school? That I’m a teen mom?
His friends are as attractive as he is, and from what he’s told me about them, they’re each just as successful with their own thriving careers. Does he think they will look down on him for being with me? That I’m nothing but a pretty face and big tits? Because that’s exactly what I am, right? At least, that’s how I feel right now compared to them—compared to Mara.
My chest aches as I choke on all of my insecurities and spiraling thoughts. I hold Grayson just a little closer. Legally, Grayson’s not mine, no matter how much I want him to be, so if James decides to end things between us after tonight, to take back every word he’s said to me about the babies being ours, then I’ll lose Grayson.
I try to muffle the sound of my heartbreak with my hand over my mouth now that Grayson has fallen back to sleep. All I can think about as I look from him to Lainey sleeping so peacefully in the new jammies James bought her is that all this could be so easily stripped away, and there’s nothing I could do to stop it.
I look up when the nursery door opens and closes behind James. His brows are pinched together, and his jaw is still clenched tight. I hate it.
“I’m sorry I cursed at her,” I say between sobs.
His face falls, and he drops to his knees beside the rocking chair. He cups my face and wipes my tears away with his thumbs, kisses each cheek, then gently on my lips. I suck in a breath, inhaling his, hope blossoming that this isn’t the end of us.
“You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for, angel.”
Hearing him call me that has more tears spilling down my cheeks. “When you call me ‘angel’, it’s not just a pet name, is it?”
He sighs heavily, and I have to look away as my hope plummets to the ground. How can one night, one woman, ruin everything so fast? I feel every bit as dumb as Mara accused me of being.