CHAPTER TWO EMBER #2
Glancing around, I notice all the men are gone from the room. Atlas is chatting with a woman I recognize as one of the other spouses. I remember that her husband was going to be on assignment with Asher.
I let her visit with her friends, and begin cleaning up around the kitchen.
We’d done the quick little cake for Aria, and since she hated it, we'd left the mess. I go to her high chair to clean it all up. Since this is Aria’s first birthday, it reminds me that I haven’t thought about a baby’s birthday in a long time.
I try not to, honestly. It hurts, even though I know I did the right thing.
I get the doggy bags ready for the single guys who always beg for leftovers when they leave, then finish wiping off the counters and load the dishwasher.
As I close the dishwasher and hang the washcloth, Atlas walks over smiling. “Let’s head outside to the fire pit.” I grab my coat, smiling as I head out the back door arm in arm with Atlas.
I’ve got a fresh drink in hand, walking with a little extra sway in my hips, not intentionally.
Maybe it is, though. I let the Truly’s take that edge off, trying to calm my nerves after getting Dean’s message.
I just want to relax. Once we’re all crowded around the fire.
I chat with Atlas about nothing in particular.
I just let myself enjoy the night. I can’t help but occasionally steal side eye glances at Harley across the fire.
One of the guys moves the speaker away from the house now that the baby is down, and the other kids have left.
We aren’t getting wasted or acting crazy, but when girls hear Low by Flo Rida, the party just comes out of us.
We dance, sing, and drink. I finally decide it’s time to break the seal, and that I better do it quickly.
I start walking to the backdoor, stumbling around like an idiot.
I cringe thinking about how dumb I look to Harley as I stumble on my feet and laugh at myself. I’m fucking hilarious. And drunk.
“Harley, can you take this drunk bitch to the bathroom?” I hear the words drop out of Atlas’s mouth. I whip my head around so quickly, I make myself dizzy. She laughs so hard as I glare at her.
“I. Am. Fine,” I tell her, realizing my words are a little slurred.
Suddenly, I hear a chuckle from beside me, and I suck in a breath.
Fuck, where’d he come from? Harley steps beside me, his left arm going around me without touching me, but there in case I need it.
I really am not that drunk. I definitely am that drunk.
I double over and laugh at myself, letting out a snort.
“Come on, let’s go pee, my little alchy.” Harley chuckles and pushes me into the house. His hand falls lightly to the small of my back, and I feel tingles all over. Jesus.
Getting to the bathroom, Harley pushes open the door and flicks the light on. “I’ll wait out here, holler at me if you need me,” he says before closing the door softly.
I drop my pants and sit there, feeling the relief of my bladder emptying.
My internal dialogue is going wild. This is so embarrassing.
Ehhh, is it though? I haven’t done anything embarrassing.
I’m just funny. This is fine. His hand is so warm.
I wonder if he’s even thought about me? It’s been sixteen years since I last saw him.
Harley was in the pits of hell that is puberty when we met.
Even despite that, I thought he was so cute.
Tonight, his still curly hair is a little long in the front and pieces hang slightly over his eyes.
He wears a black fitted V neck t-shirt and dark bootcut jeans.
He has clearly grown out of the baby fat and regularly works out.
He isn’t over the top cut and chiseled, just the right amount of fit.
At least, to my liking. Shit. He could have a girlfriend, and I'm low key drooling over him. Chill bitch. Flushing the toilet and washing my hands, I take a deep breath, and finally open the door. Harley stands there covering his mouth, laughing silently. “What’s so funny?” I ask with a laugh, trying to play cool.
“Well, I don’t have a girlfriend, and yeah I wondered about you occasionally.” Harley laughs as he lets his face fall toward the ground and quickly back up to meet my eyes, his cheeks turning a slight shade of red.
Oh my fucking god. Kill me.
I was talking, out loud, to myself. Guess the cat is out of the bag.
I need to find another drink. Walking down the hall to the fridge, I reach in and pull one out.
I turn around to be met with Harley smirking from the side of the counter.
“I was just wondering. It’s been sixteen years after all.
” I laugh it off. He inches a little closer as I crack open the drink and down it, trying to escape this hellscape I created for myself.
This is definitely going to hurt in the morning.
Atlas and a few others flood in from the back door. Laughing and footsteps fill the room.
“Do you live near here?” Harley asks, leaning on the counter a couple feet away.
“Yeah, less than ten minutes. Shit I need to call an Uber.” I reach for my phone and see a handful of unanswered text messages waiting for me.
UNKNOWN:
I miss you.
I wish you still loved me.
I don’t want to live if you aren’t with me.
You know I only live a few miles up the road.
When are you coming home?
Where the fuck are you?
Probably out being a little slut for the first guy who will give you attention. That’s why you gave away our baby.
You better come home alone, you stupid bitch.
I feel sick, instantly. I meet Harley’s eyes, seeing the concern fill his eyes.
I drop my phone and race back to the bathroom, just in time to empty the contents of my stomach.
God I fucking hate him. He does this anytime I stay out late.
We hold no conversations. It’s all one sided with his creepy bullshit.
If I felt like he was violent, I’d report it.
But since he hasn’t threatened any harm to me, the police won’t do anything to intervene.
Just as I’m using the toilet to assist me in getting up, the door flies open and Harley comes barreling in, eyes wild with anger.
“What the fuck is this, Ember?” I drop back to the floor and dry heave. Harley comes over to the toilet and rubs small circles on my back, pulling the hair away from my face. “Hey, I’m sorry. It’s okay. I've got you.” His tone softens, letting out a heavy breath.
I feel so weak mentally. We sit there for another few minutes before I sit back and slump against the wall. I finally look up and meet Harley’s eyes. “It’s Dean—he thinks I owe him something because I kicked him out and put the baby up for adoption,” I say in a low voice.
Harley’s eyes soften, before he asks, “How long has this gone on?”
I laugh as I get up off the floor. “As soon as he found out I'd had the baby, he tried to come to the hospital, but I had already talked to the hospital social worker, and she made sure he couldn’t gain access to me or the baby.”
Walking over to the sink, I wet a washcloth and pat my neck to cool down. “He started texting about a week later, and it never really stopped. If I block him, he just texts from a new number.”
Harley gets up and stands behind me, watching me in the mirror, and our eyes connect through the reflection. “Let me take you home and sit with you for a bit.”
I smile softly, and realize I don’t really want to go home alone anyway. “That sounds good. I’ll let Atlas know.”
We walk out of the bathroom, heading into the kitchen to let Atlas know we’re leaving. We find her leaning into Asher. She's got her arms wrapped around his neck from the side, grinning.
“Harley is going to take me home since I've been drinking,” I tell her before shielding my eyes from her public display of affection.
Atlas laughs and leans her head into the side of Asher’s chest. “Wear protection, bitch.”
Asher laughs. “Alright, time for someone to head to bed,” he says as he steps back and drops his left arm to scoop her up and carry her to bed.
I’m really not even drunk anymore. A little buzzed, maybe, but I could still probably drive home.
Harley comes up next to me. “I’ve got you. I'll get your coat and purse.”