Long Story Short (Merrymount #3)

Prologue August - The Blueberry Festival

I’m telling you right now, I’m not letting Daisy Stiles fuck this up for me.

And I’ll tell her just as much as soon as we get out of earshot from the only people on the planet who’ve ever given a shit about me.

Margot’s words hang in the air, and I realize neither Daisy nor I have responded.

I glance at Daisy beside me, and for half a second, I see the teenage girl who listened to me when I thought no one cared about what I had to say.

But in the other half of that second, I see who I’m actually up against, and I feel my face form a scowl I try like hell to suppress.

Her mean mug I’m sure matches my own, but we agree silently to drop it. For now.

“We can manage,” I say after clearing my throat.

Margot and Sawyer just asked me and Daisy to be godparents to one of their twins Margot is currently growing. And we agreed.

The café bursts into celebrations of cheering and hugs and kisses among everyone I care about in this small town.

I’ve come to learn they’ll always accept me for exactly who I am, and I’m not the guy who’s hooting and hollering in a setting like this.

So I take my rightful place by backing out of the crowd to watch from the outskirts.

Once again, Red’s Place is home to the grandest of announcements and celebrations.

In the past couple years, the café has been host to secret half-siblings uniting for the first time (hello, Margot and Miller), a joint surprise birthday party (Miller and P, I’m looking at you), a Thanksgiving that thankfully did not end in WWIII, but came pretty damn close to it (apologies from both Daisy and me), and now a pregnancy announcement times two for Margot and Sawyer.

Damn. Sawyer’s gonna be a dad. My best fucking friend.

Although now I think his title leans more toward brother.

One minute we were messing around after school, getting into trouble and trying like hell to not get caught by his grandmother, Beth, and now we’re here. Getting married and having babies.

Well, he’s there. I’m just kinda on the sidelines.

I don’t hate that part, though. I wasn’t destined for the family man life. Didn’t have it growing up, can’t expect to be able to manage it as an adult.

When Sawyer woke me up this morning telling me he needed to take a drive, I somehow knew right away that something was going on.

Whenever Sawyer says he wants to take a ride, he means he wants to go to his parents’ gravesite, and I’ve considered it a privilege to be included every time he’s invited me.

I held back as we approached the stone markers that sit side by side, letting Sawyer have his private moment first. I tried really hard to not eavesdrop, but it was next to impossible given the fact that we were the only two living people in the whole lot.

“Margot’s pregnant. I’m gonna be a dad, guys,” Sawyer whispered. I watched my best friend-turned-brother place his hand at the top of his mom’s headstone and let his body drop forward. I could tell the rise and fall of his back was from crying. No shame in that, but I know he didn’t want a show.

I didn’t know about the twin or godparent thing until five minutes ago though. Kind of wish he thought to clue me in on that, so I wasn’t standing here feeling like I just had a pie thrown in my face.

Why do Daisy and I need to be roped together for all of this anyway? Can’t we love the rugrats on our own like we do with everyone in this room already?

They’re probably sick of you starting fights and ruining things, I think to myself. Smells like meddling. I’m ashamed and angry that it’s probably valid at this point.

Sawyer claps me on the back, breaking me out of my silent stupor. “Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. Margot wanted it to be a surprise for everyone. I know you heard me earlier though.”

“Well, Mr. and Mrs. Hale weren’t exactly chatty this morning. Woulda been hard for me to not overhear. I’m happy for you, man. This is huge.”

Sawyer chuckles; dark humor has always been his thing to cope with loss. “So I gotta ask, do you really think you and Daze might have a shot at working it out?”

I sputter, “There’s nothing to work out. Me and Daze don’t belong in the same fucking sentence. But I’ll do better. You have my word.”

“And your word means…” The voice is the sound of nails on a fucking chalkboard.

I turn my head to see the devil herself leaning against the doorway, a lollipop sticking out of that loud ass mouth of hers.

She’s in one of those frilly white sundresses that flounces out because of the way her hips curve.

The top is tied around her neck into a giant obnoxious bow.

Her curls, that are in fact as black as her goddamn soul, sit picture-perfect flowing over her shoulders.

I don’t watch her tongue swirl around the bright red candy.

I don’t watch her eyes track mine as I do either.

“You know what?” Sawyer looks between the two of us.

“Duke this one out. Get it out of your system.” He throws his hands up and walks away, back to Margot.

Daisy and I both watch him immediately wrap his arms around her.

I don’t think we’ll be seeing much of them separated over the next eight or so months.

Snapping out of it, I gear up for yet another verbal battle with Daisy Stiles despite the promise I just threw at Sawyer. I’ll vow to be good after this. “Save it. If you feel like you can’t be an adult, let Sawyer and Margot know now. I promise I won’t miss you when you go.”

She rolls those piercing blue eyes, and I hold myself back from throwing another insult at her. Daisy straightens from her lean on the doorframe, bringing her to the remarkable height of barely 5’4”. Terrifying. As you can tell, I’m shaking in my boots.

“I don’t trust you, August. Never will. But I know I can manage not royally fucking this up. Can you?”

I step into her bubble. It’s infuriating how she’s always been the only person who doesn’t back away or cower when I crowd her space. My irritation intensifies when I inhale and get hit with her scent. Always an overpowering floral that gets stuck in my nose for days.

“Yes,” I say on the exhale. “For them. I don’t give a fuck what you think about me.”

“Yeah, you’ve had no issue making that abundantly clear.”

“I’m afraid I haven’t because you’re still fucking here.”

“And where would I go?”

As far as the wind will take you is what I want to say.

But I don’t. I have an unspoken line with Daisy that I never cross.

From the outside, others think it looks like we always take it too far, and don’t get me wrong, we do.

But I’ll never throw her words in her face.

Words and secrets and admissions that were never meant for me.

“Forget it. Let’s just—” I heave a deep sigh.

I don’t think I’m a bad guy, but I don’t think I’m one of the good ones either, so this is taking a lot out of me.

“Look, Daze.” My first mistake is making eye contact with her.

My second is every word that falls out of my mouth from here on out.

“You hate me. I’m never going to be your biggest fan.

” She scoffs. Typical. “But for some reason everyone here still gives a shit about us. We need to drop it. For them. For the babies.”

Daisy shakes her head, clearing whatever emotion was trying to break out of her. I watch the metaphorical light bulb turn on above her head. “Want to make it a competition?”

“Huh?”

“The twins have some time to cook, right? We agree to put our differences aside for as long as Margot’s pregnant, and when you break the truce—”

I bark out a laugh. “Don’t go assuming it’ll be me.”

“Whatever. If one of us breaks the truce, the loser walks away. Not like, entirely. I’m not evil, asking you to hightail it out of Merrymount or anything, although I wouldn’t hate that…

” She mutters the last part to herself. “But the winner gets first dibs on all family get-togethers and events going forward.”

“That’s insane.”

“No, it’s not. If we can’t coexist for the most innocent forms of life, then there’s just no use in trying. Frankly, they”—Daisy motions to our crowd of people—“don’t deserve us at our worst anymore.”

If it was coming out of anyone else’s mouth, I would have instantly agreed. It’s actually kind of genius. I’m not telling her all of that though. “Hmm,” I start non-committedly.

“I know you’re only not saying it’s a good idea because I came up with it. Don’t be fucking dense, August. For once.”

“Ah! There it is.” I wag a finger at her. “You’ll never survive this. You’ll be out before we find out the genders. You know what? Sure, Daze. Let’s shake on it. Nine months, me and you, buddy-buddy.” I hold out my hand.

When her tiny fingers attempt to wrap around mine, I almost pull back at the shock. Static electricity must be weird today. I don’t know. For how small her hand is, the grip is tighter than I expected. It’d feel fucking amazing wrapped around something else.

And that’s the intrusive thought that tells me I haven’t been laid in a while, if I’m thinking about Daisy Stiles anywhere near my dick from a simple handshake. Nothing a quick night out can’t fix. Nothing to cause alarm.

“As much as this pains me to say…deal,” Daisy agrees. She snatches her hand back in the next second and takes a step towards where Margot and Red are gushing over ultrasound pictures. “For the record, Gus, I don’t…I don’t hate you.”

For some reason the only thing my brain can come up with is a one-word answer. “Okay.” With that, she turns her back to me.

It wasn’t a compliment, it wasn’t an admission of affection or close to anything you’d write home about. But for the first time in ten years, Daisy Stiles said one singular sentence to me that wasn’t an insult or jab. It was just a simple fact she felt the need to drop on me.

And I have no fucking clue what to do with that kind of world-shattering information.

Because Daisy Stiles hates me. It’s one of the few things I’ve known with complete sureness.

And if she doesn’t, then…

Well, if she doesn’t, then it changes nothing.

She’s still the most insufferable, stuck up, bitchy, unreliable, messy woman I’ve ever come in contact with.

We still mutually can’t stand the sight of each other, and when she loses the dumbest kind of bet she could have come up with, I’ll get to enjoy this makeshift family I’m somehow included in without her breathing down my neck.