Alcohol You Later (32)

Suddenly my heart aches for my own sister, who I’ve been gaslighting like it’s my job the past few days because I just don’t feel strong enough to relay to her my current situation. I’m not ready to tell her just how wrong I was about Nick and me. I can’t tell her about the babies, because as much as I love the girl, she has a big fucking mouth. She’ll confide in her husband and my mom and her best friend, and the next thing you know, it’ll be front page news.

“Well…” I cover his hand with mine and give it a little squeeze. “Thank you.”

“Not necessary.”

“It is,” I say, meeting his eyes. “And if he’s not gonna say it, I will.” I give him a tender smile. “I appreciate you more than you could possibly know. I didn’t realize when I agreed to nanny for Nick that it was going to turn out to be a twenty-four-seven gig…” I blow out a long breath. “Anyway, I don’t mind all that much. The kids are great. I just worry about the regret he’ll have for letting this opportunity to get to know them pass him by.”

The conversation stalls, and the sudden silence, filled with sounds of chewing and babies humming along to nursery rhymes, starts to feel awkward.

“Oh, and this teething business is no freaking joke.”

“Seriously,” he says, chuckling uncomfortably following my rambling praise. “I don’t mind. It’s nice to have something that really matters to focus on.”

“Well, you’re a better friend than he deserves.”

“Right back atcha, pot.” He winks. The boy is effortlessly gorgeous, and about my age. Why couldn’t I be attracted to this one? Fall head over heels for this one?

Guess you really can’t help who you fall in love with. The closer I get to his children, the more I find myself dreaming of a future together—for the four of us.

Jesus, I really am sleep deprived.

I’ve got to stop living in fantasyland. He’s not keeping these kids. And apart from his comment about skinny dipping in my love canal—“someday”—he’s given no indication he even plans to keep me as anything more than a friend and fuck buddy.

“Good morning,” I sing to the little tots, getting a whiff of maple syrup and chocolate milk as I lean in, planting kisses on the tops of their little heads. I stare at Lyle as I fold myself onto the empty stool beside Ava. “You put syrup on their eggs?”

“That shit’s good.” He licks the remnants from his fingers before wiping them on a napkin and pushing a plate my way. “Don’t knock it till ya try it.”

“Thank you, really.” I stare down at the gooey concoction. “But I’m not eating that.”

And I mean it. That is, until the little cherub beside me loads my fork and makes airplane motor noises as she waves the food around haphazardly in the air heading straight for my eyeball. Without time to process what I’m doing, I wrap my hand around her fat, sticky fingers and redirect her landing.

“Yay!” Both babies clap and cheer while I choke on the conflicting flavors mingling in my mouth. With great effort, I manage to force it down.

“Good job, Ray-Ray!” Lyle joins in on the celebration, choking on his laughter at what I can only imagine is a frightful look on my face.

“Goo jah Way-way!” My heart nearly explodes at Alex’s encouragement. I hadn’t thought of what they’d call me. Way-way will do just fine.

“Did you hear that?” Pride swells in my chest. “He just said my name!”

Lyle nods, beaming from ear to ear. “You’re a smart little dude, ain’tcha?”

“Well, isn’t this cozy?” Nick observes, his footfalls heavy as he clomps his way back onto the bus.

“Where have you been?” My question is more of a formality. The man reeks of pot, a smell I used to find comforting that’s currently only adding to my shitty mood.

“Out.” He rests his elbows on the granite beside me, eying Lyle, then me, then my plate. “Mind if I have a bite? Looks like someone forgot I live on this bus, too.”

His mood is off. His tone is vexed and tight.

“Sorry, man,” Lyle answers. “Wasn’t sure when you’d be back, you know? Seeing as you’ve been making it a habit to disappear without a word, leaving Raven here to tend to your responsibilities.”

Oh shit. I have to fight the urge to clap for Lyle for standing up for himself. Good on him.

“And you’ve been more than happy to jump in and lend a hand, haven’t you?” Nick’s chest puffs up, his eyes narrowing. He’s spiraling fast.

“It’s fine.” I shoot Lyle a pair of warning eyes before gesturing to the babies, who do not need to witness a pissing match. “Here,” I say, pushing my plate in his direction. “Wasn’t eating it anyway.”

“I’m not taking your food.” He pushes it back. “Just wanted a taste.”

The hell he’s not. After that little tantrum, he damn well better eat it all. I load the fork and playfully tease the prongs against his lip until he opens up. “There. Good job, Drummer boy.”

His dimples pop while he chews and swallows. The tender act of my feeding him seeming to cool his misplaced jealousy.

“Yay!” Ava cheers, clapping wildly.

“Goo jah! Goo jah, boy.” Alex looks so proud, showing off his new vocabulary.