Every December [Soon to be Self Published]

Chapter 17

Austin

Lydia was half asleep and on pain killers while releasing me from the lies I told her. Not entirely sure that counts as forgiveness, but the way her mouth was soaking up my mistakes I wouldn't take it back, even now, with fresh memories of sneaking into her room last night, heat springs through me wishing we could be alone again. Which is another reason why I had stopped before it went any further, Brielle was asleep in the guest room upstairs. That would have been an all-time low, even for me.

The sound of footsteps and luggage thunders above and Brielle appears at the top of the stairs, pounding the luggage over each hardwood step. She's probably scratching every last one until she stops in front of me. Puffy red eyes. Mouth set in a firm line. "This isn't how I expected things to turn out," she says coldly. "I thought a trip here would change your mind."

"Me neither. The damage is done, Brielle. Go home." I'm not mean about it. "You should be with your family and after the holidays, I'll talk about the paternity test." 

She stomps her foot. A melodramatic wave of her hand. "This isn't what I want. Guess I'll have to tell my side of the story and see who wants to listen." 

"Think carefully before you go to the press with anything-even something as false as more rumors about the baby. I will only use against you in court if it comes to that. If that's my child. I want his privacy protected starting now."

"I wasn't going to run to the press." She straightens her back and drums her nails on the luggage handle. "When is Lydia going home?"

"I don't know." I walk over to the coat closet and grab her puffy pink coat with the fur-trimmed hood. "Here you go."

She snags it out of my hand. "Don't you think you should know that? She's not your responsibility. It's a broken ankle."

Who cares if it was a sprained ankle? I don't care if she didn't have an ankle. A thump catches my attention from the guest room. Don't come out yet, is what I want to yell. Wait until Brielle is gone. It's too early for cat fights when I already have picked the winner. Brielle notices, too. She straightens her posture. Her gaze is meant to be punishing, but right now it makes her look unattractive. She twists her hair and flops it back over her shoulder.

A car rumbles up the driveway, saving Lydia from another awkward encounter, and me too. "Your ride is here."

"Call me the second your back home, okay? We're going to have a baby and I need to trust that you will be there for me." She gives me one more longing look. "This is our baby, Austin." 

At one time that would have been good news. At one time I would have done anything to get Brielle to stay, but I can't do that anymore. Betrayal is in her every breath, her every movement. The baby does complicate everything and the situation deserves my full attention, but not right now when I am not even certain it's mine.

Closing the door, my forehead presses against it, breathing in and out slowly, liberated suddenly and unafraid of anything else. The lies are out there. They are over. "She left," I call out to Lydia's room. 

The door opens in my face as if she had been waiting on the other side for the green light. The startling blue of her eyes takes my breath away when mixed with the golden morning light, heightening the vibrancy of her deep auburn hair, evoking heat from slipping into her room last night, my shoulder casually propped in the doorway. 

She maneuvers in front of me and leans against the opposite doorframe. "You have all this room in the house and we're going to hang out in the doorway?"

I would hang out anywhere with her, but there's no way I'm going to say that out loud. How can I when I've shipped my pregnant ex-possibly with my baby-off to the airport and I'm staring at the woman who makes me want to crowd her bed? "Come on, let's talk." We both go over to the couch. "Brielle is on the way to the airport."