Bait (Wake, #1)(71)

But reality told me I was.

She was going to marry him. I had to figure out how to change that.



Christmas went by fast, and then it was 2009.

Troy didn't have much of a family, so he spent the holidays with us. Since Micah's family lived so far away, she was there, too.

New Year's Day found all four of us lounging around my apartment, watching movies and eating ourselves sick. Micah made every appetizer known to man, even though she could barely eat any of them, having a rather nasty case of morning sickness that seemed to last and last. Her doctor said it should phase itself out, and even though she didn't complain, we could all tell she hadn't felt that great.

“I f*cking love these mushroom things, Micah. I think I've ate twenty of them.”

“That's funny. They're Bla—” Then she cut herself off. “Everyone loves them.” It was no mystery that she and Blake talked often. I'd witnessed it on both ends. Blake and I were together when Micah had called her excited about the first time she felt the baby kick.

When my brother called me on the other line about five minutes later, I left the room to hear the same news. Although baby Moore was a surprise, they both seemed very pleased and thrilled about it. It was interesting that neither of them felt rushed to get married because of it, though. Agreeing that the baby and the marriage, if there were to be one, would be totally separate—not a cause and effect type of thing.

“It's okay. You don't have to pretend like she doesn't exist. Not for my benefit anyway,” I stated. It wasn't as if I called Cory or Troy about what was going on with Blake and me, but when she came up, I talked about it. I never went into a lot of detail, probably because I didn't think Blake would feel comfortable with it, but I didn't have anything to hide.

Micah sat up a little straighter on the couch and leaned into the crook of Cory's arm, pausing the movie. That wasn't a good sign. Yeah, I didn't mind talking about it, but that was totally different than being interrogated about it and that's exactly what it looked like was happening.

“All right, then tell me. What's going on with you two?” she asked. There wasn’t any accusation in her voice, evidence of her neutrality.

I wasn't sure what Blake had said, if anything, but I didn't want to pretend like it was nothing either. Unsure of what to say, I replied to her question with one of my own.

“You talk to Blake, if you want to know what's going on you can ask her.”

Then my curiosity piqued. I tried to play off my interest by popping another heavenly stuffed mushroom into my mouth and talking despite it being full. I asked, “What does she say?”

Micah and Cory shared a knowing look between them and then Cory looked to Troy. It seemed that maybe they'd all had this conversation. Only it was the first time they'd had it with me.

“What?” I asked looking at all of them in sequence. None of them looked like they wanted to go first. “Jesus, what? If you have something to say, then say it. Or ask. Shit. Someone say something.”

“What are you really doing, Casey?” My brother spoke up. Trying not to rattle my cage, his voice was moderately toned. He was using caution. He straightened and leaned forward and steepled his hands in front of himself. “What do you guys have going on?”

I took a few calming breaths, suddenly feeling defensive, and finished the last mushroom on my small plate. I remember thinking that I wished I'd had a few more to buy myself more time.

“Listen, Blake and I are friends,” I said, hating that I used the one word that made me cringe when it came from her mouth. “I don't know why you guys are making such a big deal out of it.”

“Bullshit,” Troy said under his breath, but intentionally loud enough for all of us to hear it.

“Bullshit? What the hell? You don't know what you're talking about.”

I hated that I was denying anything more than friendship and I felt my pulse beginning to quicken. I was frustrated with them, but I was downright livid with myself more for making light of what I really felt.

Troy interjected, “Then why are you getting all shitty about it, dude? I was in Atlanta. I'm not stupid. If that was you two being friends, then I'm doing it all wrong.” He was being a dick. Someone needed to show him how a real friend would act in that very situation. Show him that friends didn't like it when their private business was being judged.

My brother butted in, “Casey, I've seen you on the phone with her, or when you get a text, we're not blind. Tell us what's going on so that we get it.” Micah leaned in toward me, too. It felt like a confess-your-sins kind of conversation.

“What? We talk, we message each other…”

“You hook up in different cities on business trips,” Troy spouted.

My head snapped and I stood, feeling like I needed to get at least a leg up on the scene playing out, but when I stood up I still didn't have it in me to totally lie about it.

“So?” I looked to the couch at my brother and Micah, and they waited patiently for me to go on. I saw concern on both of their faces, which mollified my growing anxiety. “So we meet up,” I said to them. “We see each other out on the road sometimes. It gets lonely out there and we get along.”

Troy, the prick, coughed. “So you’re just f*cking?” he asked.