Maybe Just One More

Chapter 30. Hormones

Stormie's POV

A few hours after Avery left, I went outside to sit on the swing that was on my front porch. When I made it onto the porch, I stopped dead in my tracks. 

There in my driveway was a black Plymouth. 

"What?" I hissed. I waddled down to the car and threw the door open. There was the key to the car in the driver's seat. Underneath the key was a folded piece of paper. "Ugh," I grunted. I bent down slowly and grabbed the paper and key. The letter was addressed to me in Avery's handwriting.

Stormie,

I knew that you wouldn't agree with this, so I left it in your driveway before I left. Take care of the car. You need it more than I do. Don't argue either. I don't want you falling from the truck and the babies getting hurt. So, please, drive this vehicle only or at least until they are born.

Love, Avery

"Awe," I cooed. "What an asshole." I smiled at the key. I pulled my phone out to text him.

Me: Thanks for letting me borrow the car.

Avery: I'm not.

Me: What do you mean?

Avery: I'm giving it to you.

My eyes widened in shock. I dialed his number and put the phone to my ear. 

"Hello?" he answered.

"I'm not keeping the car," I snapped.

"Yeah, you kind of are. I already signed and dated the title. I also took the plates. You have no choice but to put it in your name," he said.

My jaw dropped. Wow, he knows me so well. "You..." I trailed off. "You're such an asshole."

"You're welcome," he said. "If you go to get rid of it, though, I'd like to buy it back."

I rolled my eyes. "Like I would ever do that."

"Good," he said. "I wanted to give it to our son anyway."

"What about our daughter?" I asked.

"She can have any car her little heart desires," he said.

"What if she wants this one?" I asked.

"I guess they'll have to fight for it," he chuckled.

A giggle bursted through my lips. "Avery!"

"What?" he asked. "They will have to learn to fight for what they want."

I rolled my eyes. "Thank you."

"Bye."

"Bye," I smiled and hung up.

***

The men brought in the last few boxes. I turned to stare at the mess that used to be my living room. My living room wasn't small by any means, and it was filled with boxes.