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Christa
I drive to the bakery, stressed to the max. I know how particular Taryn is. She didn’t tell me what the cake was supposed to look like, only that the inside of it was supposed to be pink or blue according to the results.
I park and get out, heading inside.
“Hi, can I help you?” an attendant asks with a smile.
“I’m here to pick up a custom order,” I reply.
“Name?”
“Taryn Lockwood.”
She said she was going to pick this up herself, but I don’t trust her ass not to cheat and peek. Though, how could you? It’s not like I can cut into the damn thing to make sure it’s blue or pink.
“Be right back,” she says.
She quickly returns holding a large pink box. She sets it on the counter and opens the lid carefully. It’s a round white cake with pink and blue piping along the edges, and Baby Lockwood written in the middle, the baby in blue and the Lockwood in pink. It’s adorable. I verbally confirm the correct color is inside, and the baker eases my mind by pulling out her phone and showing me a video of the cake as it’s being frosted, and then the end result.
Wow, very classy, and awesome.
She informs me it’s already paid for. I thank her, leave, and then head to the party supply store.
A pink and blue pinata the shape of a baby rattle waits for me at the customer service counter, and I gently pry my finger into one of the seams to see the appropriate-colored candy inside and then squeeze it back together, hoping none leaks out. It’s the same color as the body of the pinata, the trim being the other color, so nobody’s going to notice anyway.
With my supplies, I drive to Taryn’s, nervous as hell but so excited.
I park in the Lockwoods’ circular driveway and retrieve the items from my backseat. Carter greets me and takes the large pinata from me.
“I better string this up before people start arriving,” he says. “Thanks for picking it up.”
“Sure, no problem,” I reply, closing the door with my hip.
“If you could put the cake on the kitchen island, that would be great.”
“Sure,” I say, carefully carrying the giant pink box into the kitchen.
There’s a ridiculously huge spread of food on the island and some on the dining room table. Geez! How many people are they expecting?
I shove a plate of cold cuts aside to place the box.
“Oh, good, you got it!” Taryn says, coming into the kitchen wearing a long beige strapless maxi dress. She’s barefoot, and her bump sticks out a little.
“You look adorable,” I say, hugging her.
“So do you,” she replies, pointing to my red floor-length spaghetti-strap dress. It’s a casual type, so I paired it with black flats. I was tempted to wear pink or blue, but thought that would have given too much away.
“I think this should probably stay refrigerated,” I say, pointing to the cake.
“Good point.” She opens the fridge and begins to make room for it.
The front door alarm softly beeps and I hear, “Hey, sis.”
I freeze and my stomach turns over.
Turning around, I see Eric coming from the entryway hall and into the kitchen in a light-blue button-down and black jeans. “Where should I put—”
He holds a bottle of whiskey and stops talking when he sees me. My heart lurches in my chest as we lock eyes.
Oh, my God. He looks amazing. So sexy. I want to launch myself into his arms and kiss him everywhere.
Of course, I don’t do any of those things.
Beautiful blue eyes that haunt my dreams stare back at me. Sandy hair in a nice, neat haircut. The hint of a beard trying to grow in, a little gray peppering the light-brown graces his face.
We stand in silence, so long and so heavy in the air, that even Taryn turns around at the tension cutting the air like a knife.
“What...” She eyes the both of us. “Oh.” She forces a smile. “Put the booze on the table.” She inclines her head at the dining room table.
He doesn’t look at me again as he goes into the dining room.
I suck in a breath I’d held, and say, “Excuse me.”
I speed-walk into the guest bathroom and close the door. I slam the toilet lid down and sit, my face in my hands.
What I really want to do is scream. My body reacted to him immediately, and then I froze up because I couldn’t think of a single fucking intelligent thing to say. Would “hi” have been too difficult, Christa?
My head swirls with so much emotion. Seeing him was harder than I thought. I didn’t think he could still have this effect on me, but he did, and now I don’t know what the hell to do with it.
I take in deep, slow breaths, telling myself it’s okay. That I merely have to get through today and then I can go back to my silent wallowing.
A knock sounds at the door, and I freeze. “What?”
“It’s me, Chris. Let me in.”
I get up and unlock the door, opening it far enough to let Taryn in. I plop back onto the toilet lid.
“You okay?” She bites her lip.
“I don’t think so,” I answer honestly.
“He asked where you went, you know,” she confesses.
I look up at her. “He did?”
“Yes, he asked if you left the party. He seemed... upset.”
“What did you say?” I ask.
“That you didn’t, and you probably were in the bathroom. And I was right.” She folds her arms across her chest. “Go out there and talk to him. At the bare minimum, he needs a friend.”
I want to cry, but I hold in a sob. “I can’t just be his friend. It’s impossible to be around him and not want him. You understand we’re like magnets? Drawn to each other by force. The air is electric when he’s anywhere near me. It’s horribly painful and I don’t think I can do this.”
She blows out a breath, takes a step toward me, and grabs me by my upper arm. “Christa Marie Alvarez, get the fuck up off this damn toilet and face the music. You’re not gonna die if you have to be in the same room as him. Just. Fucking. Talk. I’ll slap you if I have to. In fact, I’ll slap you both.”
At that, I laugh. Taryn’s so docile, she’d never lay a hand on anyone. I stand on shaky legs and smooth down the cotton dress.
She envelops me in a hug and I return it, feeling calmer now. “I’m sorry I’m being a baby.”
“You’re not. Now, let’s go have a party. I’m dying to find out if this little one is a boy or a girl.” She rubs her bump, and I put my hand on it as well.
“You’re gonna be so happy.”
As we leave the bathroom, I lift my chin up and hold my head high. I see Eric in the backyard holding a water and talking to Carter.
I bravely approach him—because I can’t not be near him when the universe is magnetically pulling us together—and put on a smile. “Hi, Eric. How have you been?”
It’s polite, considering I would rather say, “Why the fuck did you ghost me?” But, of course, I don’t.
He squeezes my arm and kisses my temple and I want to melt into a puddle. “I’m good, Christa. How have you been?”
I’m dying inside, thanks for asking.
“I’m okay,” I say instead. “How was Kenya?”
Oh, my God. I did not simply ask him that.
“It was... eye-opening,” he replies.
“I’d love to hear about it sometime,” I reply honestly.
“I’d like that,” he says, gazing into my eyes.
Really?
Carter’s voice breaks us out of our stare-off. “Okay, everyone, gather ’round. We’re going to beat the shit out of this thing until it explodes, so we find out if our baby is a boy or a girl.”
Carter and Taryn stand next to the pinata, and Carter holds a baseball bat. “Who wants first the try?”
“Me,” Eric offers quickly, heading toward them.
Wow, he sure wanted away from me quickly.
Asshole.
Eric recaps his water bottle and throws it to the ground before grabbing the proffered bat. He winds it up and does a few practice swings before he slams it into the pinata. It sways aggressively, but doesn’t break.
Carter stops its momentum and steps back. “One more try, bro. Make it count.”
I peer around to see Taryn and a bunch of other people I don’t recognize, probably coworkers and acquaintances of Taryn and Carter. They all look on with smiles while I’m literally dying inside.
Smack!
The pinata explodes, blue candy flying everywhere, and I smile and clap with everyone else.
“Oh, my God! It’s a boy!” Taryn squeals, hugging her husband.
I’m happy for them, even if I do think this whole thing is a bit cheesy and over-the-top, but I rush up to hug her.
“Congratulations. I’m so happy for you!” I tell her honestly.
I pull back from the hug to see Eric watching us closely, a look of what can only be described as longing in his eyes, and he’s not looking at his sister or best friend. His gaze is narrowed in on me.
I offer him a small smile then look at my friend again.
“C’mon, y’all, food and cake inside!” Taryn calls.
I load up a plate with all the food offered and sit on the sofa while I eat.
“Hey,” Taryn says, coming to sit next to me holding a sparkling water and cake.
“Hi. How stoked is Carter getting a son?” I ask with a smile.
I’m acutely aware that Eric is in the kitchen talking with someone, but I refuse to look his way.
“He’s very stoked. Now the fight over names begins,” she says with a laugh.
I cross my legs and grab a handful of cheese cubes from my plate. “Really? Why?”
She shrugs. “He hinted at wanting a junior. Not sure I want to deal with that confusion.”
“Carter’s a nice name,” I comment.
“It is,” she agrees, bringing a piece of blue cake to her lips and taking a bite. “This is so good. Did you get any?”
I look down at my food. “No, I’ll try some later.”
We chat some more, and when someone calls her over, I get up and throw my plate away in the kitchen trash. My eyes—more like my heart—scans the room, but there’s no sign of Eric.
Whatever.
I head to the restroom to use it for real this time.
No more crying, Christa, I tell myself as I lock the door and handle my business.
After washing my hands, I exit the bathroom and hear voices down the hall. I freeze when I hear my name.
“You don’t get it, dude. Christa was in the Mile High Rooms. We fucked.” Eric’s voice.
I gasp, slapping my hand over my mouth, and my eyes fill with tears. Oh. My. God.
“What? How did she not know it was you, man?” Carter’s voice.
“It was dark, I wore a mask. I just... I don’t know what to do. I feel like shit. I want to tell her, but I’m afraid she’ll hate me for keeping it from her.”
“Why did you even go there? You could have called her instead.”
“I have no reason except that I’m stupid and just wanted to take my aggressions out on someone—not her. Also, I didn’t think she would want me. Afraid of rejection and all that bullshit.”
Carter sighs. “I told you, man, that she did and does still want you. Jeez. You’re a just a pussy.”
It sounds like he chuckles. “I guess I am. I made a mistake, but it turned out. Sort of. Since she doesn’t know it was me.”
“So, what, she just walked in there and didn’t disguise herself?” Carter whispers.
“No, she had on a party mask, but come on, dude. Those tattoos and honestly, that body. There was no mistaking her. Then, when she opened her mouth and spoke, I knew it was her. I should have told her right then, or at the very least, walked out and left, but I couldn’t. I was weak. What do I do?”
Carter literally chuckles. “You’re so fucking immature, Eric. Just go out there and tell her. Y’all are ridiculous. I swear to God.” I hear the door open and I bolt down the hall toward the front.
So I do the only logical thing I can think of: I snatch my purse from the entryway table, bolt out the front door, and get into my car, zooming off in the early evening Colorado sunset.