Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Callie
Without sounding too dramatic—stab a thousand needles in both my eyes.
I’m not jealous because I don’t want Foster.
He isn’t exactly boyfriend material. From everything I’ve ever heard about him, he doesn’t do relationships. I’m actually a tad worried about his emotional state and whether he has any emotion besides grumpy. For our child’s sake only, of course.
So, it’s definitely not jealousy that’s coursing through my body as I watch Stephie fawn all over him in the VIP booth Easton and I swindled us.
We used our names and influence. Saffire is a pretty hot club in Chicago, so it’s a miracle we landed a booth, but Easton is never against tossing money around to get what he wants.
Now I sit across from them. Easton and Millie are on the dance floor while Stephie looks longingly in its direction, trying to coax Foster out there with every new song that plays. Leighton and Hayes disappeared a half hour ago, and I question whether we’ll see them again tonight.
“Come on, Reap,” Stephie says, using his nickname—which grates on my nerves for reasons I’m not giving attention to right now.
“Yeah, Reaper, dance with the girl.” I smirk at him.
His eyes narrow at me from across the booth. “I don’t dance.”
“Why not?” Stephie’s head falls back. “You can just stand there, and I’ll dance around you if you want.”
Decker sits next to me, sipping his drink. “’Cause that’s fun, and he’s not fun.”
I have no idea how Foster hears Decker’s comment, but his gaze shoots over to him with a look that could kill a million blood-sucking vampires.
Why do I even feel like playing this stupid game of who can make who jealous?
It’s childish.
It’s immature.
But it’s happening.
“Do you want to dance, Deck?” I place my water on the table. No one batted an eye when I didn’t order a drink after I used the excuse of having a long day tomorrow.
“Sure.” He places his beer on the table and stands, holding out his hand.
“Ugh… I guess I picked the wrong brother.” Stephie wiggles her body along the seat like a toddler who was told she has to eat her vegetables before being excused.
“Fuck it. Fine.” Foster slams his glass on the table, and the liquid sloshes over the rim.
The brotherly rivalry is thick between Foster and Decker, though I have no idea why.
Decker and I reach the dance floor, and when Easton and Millie see us, they dance over. Decker wraps an arm around my waist, his thigh between my legs, and links our free hands together, twirling me around the dance floor while his hips move to the beat.
“Holy shit, seriously?” My head falls to his shoulder in laughter. “You’re, like, good at this.”
“Single mom,” he says, continuing to dance provocatively with me.
“Your mom taught you to dance this sexy?”
He chuckles. “God, no. She taught me the basics, and I had a couple girlfriends who loved to dance. I got comfortable with my body and how to move it, how to lead.”
He turns us, and suddenly I’m facing the other direction as he steers us.
“Well, seems they were all good teachers. I’ve never danced like this.”
“I figured you’d be surprised.”
“Surprised is putting it mildly. I thought we were going to be dancing in place and snapping our fingers.”
He shakes his head. “I’m used to being thought of as the boring one.”
I rear back. “You’re not boring.”
He shrugs. “I like order, I like rules, and I like to be a stand-up guy. Unlike others…” His gaze veers to Foster.
Stephie is all over Foster, trying to get him to move his feet. She’d be better off persuading a drunk girl in the bathroom not to call her ex.
“And it’s okay, you know? He’s a lot of people’s type.” He says it as if he knows something.
I stiffen. Our eyes lock, and I divert mine, but it doesn’t stop him from continuing.
“He’s complicated. I should tell you to stay away from him, at least give you a warning, but…” He frowns. “He’s my twin brother. My blood. And though we don’t see eye to eye on almost anything, I’d still like for him to be happy.”
I scoff. “You are way too much of a stand-up guy.”
“I’m really not.”
He twirls me again, and I catch sight of Foster over Decker’s shoulder.
He’s finally wrapped his arm around Stephie’s waist, and they’re grinding.
I watch him for a second, wishing I kind of did like Decker, but dancing with him is like dancing with my brother.
Foster is the one who hits all my hot buttons.
Can’t there be a vaccine for us woman who always want the bad boy?
Then I remember the baby growing in my stomach and how my days of cavorting with men like Foster need to end if I’m going to teach this little girl or boy to love…
I gasp, staring at Decker, not realizing until right now—he’ll be my son or daughter’s uncle.
“What is it?” He turns us so he’s looking at Foster now. He doesn’t make a comment about the fact that his brother isn’t the dancer he is.
“Nothing. I just thought I saw an ex.”
Decker seems appeased by my answer. I think I could tell Decker I’m pregnant, and he’d understand.
Probably help me navigate how to tell Foster.
How to judge his reaction. But that seems terribly unfair to Foster.
They clearly have some kind of brotherly issues, and telling Decker before Foster would piss him off. Rightfully so.
So I keep my news to myself and finish the song with Decker.
A slow song comes on next, and he removes his thigh from between my legs, pulls me closer to him, and nuzzles his head closer to mine. It’s intimate, but not one part of me zings with excitement. I might as well be dancing with Hayes.
My gaze goes to where Foster and Stephie were, but they’re gone. Probably in a cab back to his place.
Well, that’s good anyway because I need to put him in a box. A box labeled baby daddy, and that’s all. And if he doesn’t want to be a part of our lives, then I’ll happily do this on my own. I do not need his help. I just need to tell him so I can move on and tell everyone else who will support us.
Now I just need to come up with a plan.
By the time Decker and I are done dancing, I’ve convinced myself that I’ll be raising this baby on my own.
In my head, Foster has already left us high and dry to fend for ourselves, and I’ve put a protective bubble that’s more like a shield around myself and our baby. He won’t hurt us. I’ll never allow it.
Decker leads me through the crowd with my hand in his, and when we get to the VIP section, we find Foster drinking on one couch and Easton on the other, drilling him with questions.
“What the fuck? One more song, and I was going to ask her back to my place.”
“Sorry. She wasn’t for me.” Foster finishes his drink and waves at the server for another.
“Wasn’t for you? She was a hot blonde with an amazing ass.” Easton looks at Decker. “I’m on your side now.”
“I thought you always were.” Decker motions for me to go in first, and we end up sitting between the two of them.
“Did Hayes and Leighton leave?” I ask, still not seeing either of them. She’s going to hear it from me after getting me to come out and then bailing to go bang my brother.
“I think so,” Decker says.
“Help me understand why I’m going home alone tonight after I had a woman ready and eager to sleep with me five minutes ago?” Easton isn’t letting it go.
Foster waves toward the crowd. “Go get another one. They’re all the same.”
I can’t help the way my stomach plummets. That’s what Foster Davis thinks of women. Disposable, interchangeable, and only good if he’s in the mood to bed one of them—otherwise they’re of no use. That’s exactly what I was to him. A warm, wet pussy to slip his dick into for a few minutes.
I hate how much it hurts.
Foster downs the drink the server brings him in one go.
Surprisingly, Hayes and Leighton rejoin us in the VIP section, looking disheveled and definitely freshly fucked.
I raise my hand. “Ready to go now?”
Leighton tilts her head, and I stand, turning back to Decker. “Thanks for the dance. If Dancing with the Stars ever asks you to be on the show, go for it. No one else stands a chance.” I wave goodbye to Easton as I’m passing Foster. “Sorry about your lady. Maybe next time.”
He doesn’t hear me because he’s rehashing the story to Hayes and Leighton.
As I’m stepping through Foster’s open legs, he locks mine between his, causing me to stop. I turn toward him. Neither of us says anything as we stare at one another for an uncomfortable beat.
“Sorry it didn’t work out with Stephie.” I glance at his lap. “She not into whiskey dick?”
He doesn’t spit out a sarcastic response. Instead, to my surprise, he says, “I’ll get you home.”
I lean down and pat his chest. “That’s okay, big guy. Go find another girl on the dance floor to warm your bed tonight. They’re all there for the taking, right?”
I straighten up, and he narrows his eyes at me. I step dramatically over his legs.
“Ready?” Leighton asks.
“Yeah. Let’s go.”
She swings her arm through mine, and we walk out of the VIP section.
Leighton leans close and says directly into my ear, “So it’s totally the bad boy of baseball, right?”
I almost tell her. I’m sure that little stunt Foster and I just pulled gave us away. My brother is going to ask questions.
“Thank fuck, I think I’m too old for this place,” Hayes says as soon as we’re clear of the crowd.
Guess not.
“How would you know? You were in the alley fucking Leighton the majority of the night.”
He doesn’t say anything, and once we’re outside, I take a big, cleansing breath. I just want to get home, but at least going to Saffire helped make my decision easier.
I’ll do my duty and tell Foster, then the baby and I will move on with our lives.