Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 74956 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74956 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
There’s a moment of silent communication between them, the kind that makes my chest ache with a longing I’m not ready to examine too closely.
It also sets my “something’s up” detector to beeping.
“What’s going on with you two?” I ask, glancing between them. “I smell secrets.”
“I think that’s the vegan feta cheese,” Tank says. “I told her to leave it out of the salad. It smells like feet.”
“It does not,” she says, swatting his chest with a laugh. “It’s fantastic. Especially with fresh tomatoes. You’ll see.” To me, she adds, “And yeah, we do have a secret. We weren’t planning on telling anyone just yet, but…”
“But you’re special,” Tank says with a teasing roll of his eyes. “And we won’t be able to keep it a secret for long, anyway. I’m sure someone as tiny as Steph will start showing sooner rather than later.”
My eyes dart between them, landing on Stephanie’s still-flat stomach, my heart skipping a beat as I connect the dots.
“Holy shit,” I breathe. “You’re pregnant?”
Steph nods, her eyes bright. “Yes, but just barely. We just found out on Friday.”
“Guys! Bring it in!” I pounce on the happy couple, wrapping them up in a slightly damp hug, making Tank stiffen and Stephanie giggle. Stepping back, I add, “Congratulations. I’m so happy for you. What amazing news. Put me down for a crib or a stroller or something. Whatever you need.”
“Slow down, we aren’t anywhere close to buying baby stuff yet,” Tank warns, but the happiness radiating off of him is a beautiful thing to behold.
“But we appreciate it,” Stephanie says, leaning into his side, giving him a quick hug. “Now, let’s eat! Apparently, if I don’t consume something every hour on the hour, I get sick.”
We settle back around the table, the mood lighter now. Stephanie nurses a bottle of water with her food, while Tank and I work on our beers. We discuss their baby plans— they still need to set up the nursery in their new apartment, find more help for Stephanie at the yoga studio before the due date, and figure out the best timing for their impending marriage to make sure Steph and the baby are covered by the best health insurance possible.
Each subject feels more intimidatingly adult to me than the last, despite the fact that I’m older than both of them. It makes me wonder if I’ve Peter Panned too long and am about to find out what happens when the grown-ups leave Neverland—and me—behind.
“So,” Stephanie says as we reach a lull in the conversation. “Now that we’ve shared our big news, want to tell us what’s really bothering you? Might it have something to do with Remy and whatever we interrupted on Friday afternoon? Are things getting serious between you two?”
Tank lifts his hands in surrender. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to tell her. It just kind of slipped out.”
“But we won’t tell anyone,” Steph rushes to assure me. “Not ever. We’re a safe space for anything you want to disclose or discuss. Remy does come to hot yoga sometimes, but I rarely see her at the stadium. And no matter where I see her, I promise to keep my mouth shut.”
Great. Now I’m imagining Remy at hot yoga, all sweaty and bent over in tight spandex.
That’s not helping the sad at all.
I sigh. “It’s fine. No worries. But sadly, there’s nothing to discuss. She put me in time out for the foreseeable future. Said she needed to focus on work and everything else she has going on. Which I get, I totally do… I just…”
“You’re just into her,” Tank says, direct but not unkind. “Really into her, if you’re willing to keep risking Coach finding out that you’re banging his daughter and gutting you like a big blond fish.”
“Yep, looks like it.” I take another swig of beer. “But it doesn’t matter. She doesn’t feel the same way. She’s made that clear by telling me to buzz off. Multiple times. This is only the latest installment in the ‘Go Away, Stone, No More Remy Kisses for You’ saga.”
Stephanie exchanges a look with Tank that I can’t quite decipher. “I mean, maybe that’s the case,” she says carefully. “But maybe not. Sometimes people push others away because they’re scared.”
“Remy’s not scared of anything,” I counter with a snort. “Except maybe germs. She’s kind of a neat freak.”
“Everyone’s scared of something,” Stephanie insists. “And if she keeps coming back for more after she’s pushed you away…”
I drain the last of my beer. “Maybe,” I finally admit. “But if she were going to change her mind and decide I’m worth keeping around long term, it would have happened by now, right? At this point, continuing to hope would just be sadistic. Or masochistic? Which one means I’ve got a hard-on for pain? I always forget.”