10. Sawyer #2
Pushing myself up, I decided to get ready for bed.
Exhaustion was my constant companion these days, and I’d worked nearly a week straight at this point.
It didn’t happen as often as I would’ve liked, thanks to my overprotective bosses, but two employees had called out sick and they had no choice but to call me in for light duty.
I was grateful for the extra cash, but my body was paying the price now.
The house was silent as I tiptoed to my bathroom.
Grams had gone to bed a few hours ago. At least she didn’t have company tonight.
She'd seen more action than I ever had lately. If ass-crack Harold wasn’t in our living room, rubbing her feet as they watched The Price is Right reruns, she was over at his place doing god only knew what.
I refused to speculate on their extracurriculars.
After a quick shower, I brushed my teeth and padded back to my room.
My bed was calling my name, and I was all too willing to answer.
I needed all the rest I could get knowing Liv was going to go overboard tomorrow.
A headache was already threatening to bloom at my temples.
There would be no reining her in—I’d learned that the hard way.
I turned onto my side and curled up against one of the pregnancy pillows Liv bought me. This was one of the purchases I’d argued and moaned most about her buying, but in the end I’d been so grateful.
It didn’t quite ease the ache of an empty bed, but it was better than nothing.
I pulled up at Frank’s Bar fifteen minutes early despite spending half of my morning crying. None of my regular clothes fit, save for a few baggy work t-shirts and a pair of neon pink sweatpants I was forced to wear shopping today. It didn’t even match. I looked like a walking disaster.
To top it all off, I’d left my phone at the house, and there was no time to grab it before I was late.
If Liv hadn’t been so damn set on dragging me out, I would’ve canceled.
The thought had crossed my mind more than once this morning.
It was 2026. Why couldn’t we turn to online shopping like normal people?
But realistically, we couldn’t wait. I had to work tomorrow.
Even though my bosses were great and understanding, I didn’t want to serve customers in bright pink sweats.
A girl could only take so much.
Pulling into my normal parking spot, I noticed a fancy car on the other side of Duke’s truck.
I didn’t recognize it, but that didn’t mean anything.
Duke and Liv frequently met with fancy lawyers and liquor distributors who wanted to make an impression.
I didn’t remember if they had one today, but I was about to find out.
Other than the nausea and general discomfort, one of the things I hated the most about being pregnant was my constant need to fucking pee.
It was never-ending. Like I took a sip and all of a sudden it was rushing through my body to escape.
I had about one minute before I embarrassed myself, and the sweatpants, further.
Duke and Liv took their meetings at the front of the bar, so I could easily sneak through the back without disturbing them.
I really didn’t want to sit in my car in this weather, anyway.
The heater had gone out shortly after Christmas, and would cost way too much to get fixed.
If Duke and Liv found out I was driving around in this thing, they’d be pissed.
Hurrying out of my car, I noticed three boxes by the back door. Duke and Liv must not have heard the delivery guy drop them off. I stared at the boxes for only a moment before stooping down to pick them up. They were light enough, but if Duke saw me carrying them, I’d have to deal with a lecture.
Ever since he found out about my pregnancy, he’d refused to let me carry anything over five pounds, which wasn’t easy considering I worked in a bar. It’d been a fight just to convince him I could still carry a serving tray.
I slipped through the back door, careful not to let it slam behind me like it always did.
The hallway was dimly lit, and I was so worried about the damn door that I tripped over my own two feet.
My palms slammed into the wall as I caught myself, but the boxes went tumbling.
They crashed to the ground, knocking over three more in the process.
Pain immediately began radiating from my right ankle.
“Ow. Fuck. Jesus Christ,” I cried out, looking down at my untied shoes.
I really needed to invest in slip-ons because it was only going to get harder to tie laces as I got bigger. It already felt like running a damn marathon just to get out the door.
“Stupid fucking laces,” I muttered, ducking down. The sound of footsteps made me groan. Not only was I about to get caught, but I’d interrupted their meeting.
Great, Sawyer. Just fucking great.
I could already hear Duke’s voice in a low reprimand. “What’d I tell you? If you hadn’t been carrying those damn boxes…”
“I know, I know. I’m not supposed to be carrying boxes,” I called. If I could just get ahead of my scolding, maybe I could get out of it. “Consider this a lesson learned.”
Liv’s voice was the first I recognized. “Sawyer! Are you okay?”
“What happened?” Duke said at the same time.
But there was a third voice amongst the fray. One I’d gotten used to hearing in my dreams. It was as smooth as butter and glided over my skin, giving me goosebumps. Or maybe that was just the returning nausea.
Because the moment I looked up and saw Beckett Montgomery standing above me with his lips parted in shock, I knew I was fucked.