Two Blue Lines (Crossing The Line #1) (24 page)

October 26
th
Continued

Chloe Seymour is a W-H-O-R-E!

Chloe Seymour’s cousin in a W-H-O-R-E!

I knew we shouldn’t have gone to her stupid Halloween party. Everything started off fine. Chloe ignored us, but the other girls there were cool, nothing like the bitches at school who made fun of me. They asked about the baby and if we had a name picked out. (I’ve been thinking of a couple, but I haven’t talked to Reed about it yet.)

Then, the minute Reed isn’t in my line of sight, bam, the skanky bitch has her paws on
my man
, trying to freakin’ kiss him again. Is she for real?

The possessive, hormonal bitch in me came out like some kind of pregnant, girly Godzilla.

I would’ve so kicked her ass if I wasn’t pregnant.

Man Up, Soldier Boy

I
loved this girl.

Freakin’ looooovvvvved her.

That was
all
I could think about as we left the party and slid into my car to head home.

I clenched my hands on the steering wheel as some mournful song murmured from the radio, the green dash lights illuminating her face. I concentrated on driving.

I felt her watching me. “Was that too much?”

“What?” I glanced over. “No. What do you mean?” I was just relieved she didn’t think I was doing anything with Chloe. We were fresh from all of our other misunderstandings and finding our footing again.

She bit her lip, her hand unconsciously rubbing over her belly mound. “Well, I’ve never had to get all psycho girlfriend like that before. It was weird.”

I reached over and grabbed her hand as we passed the boarded up Bennigan’s where we had our first “real” date. The dilapidated building with graffiti and loosely hanging shutters gave me a pang of nostalgia. “It wasn’t weird. And you weren’t psycho.” I grinned. “You were hot.”

Her eyes rounded. “What?”

I trained my eyes on the road. “Yeah. I’ve never had anyone stand up for my honor before. I kinda liked it.”

She slapped my thigh. “Shut up. I’m serious, Reed. I probably looked like the hormonal pregnant girl going all ghetto on her. But she looked like she was about to jump you right there. And . . . I dunno . . . I wanted to kill her.” She sighed. “Maybe it
is
the hormones.”

The memory of Chloe’s glossy lips and the liquor fumes oozing from her slammed into me. “No,” I said carefully. “I think I would’ve done the same thing.”

She processed this a moment then giggled.

“What?”

I glanced into her smiling eyes. “You would’ve told Chloe to get her slutty paws off of me?”

I grinned. “Absolutely. Nobody puts their paws on you but me, baby.”

The smile slid off her face and she turned away to face out the darkened window without a word.

“Mel?”

“Yeah?”

We drove another minute, past our Dairy Queen and the vet clinic where I’d learned who Lettie was. The memory was so bittersweet, I choked back a clump of emotion every time I drove by. But tonight, it was Mel’s emotions that were filling the car like a raincloud. “Everything okay?”

She nodded, silent.

I hated that our banter died a quick death, but I didn’t know what to say to resurrect it, so I drove on in silence until I reached her house. I tossed the gearshift into park and we sat in more accusatory silence, but I wasn’t sure what I was being accused of.

Finally, Mel turned to me. “See you Monday?”

I nodded. Obviously, she was dismissing me for the rest of the weekend. Got it.

She stretched over, brushing a kiss to my cheek, giving me one last whiff of her sweet, sweet, wildflower scent, as if to remind me of the girl I loved so much, before she ducked out into the endless night.

The party at Chloe’s was long, long forgotten that Monday night as I learned what a zoo the day before Halloween was at a movie theater. Especially for a newly promoted shift manager. Which was good, because I’d spent the last couple days missing Mel like a pathetic loser, with only a handful of texts to get me through until I saw her again.

“I didn’t want butter on my popcorn!” the grouchy grandpa grumbled, tossing his bucket my way with a snarl and a frown.

I glanced down at his very embarrassed looking grandkid and felt pity sluice through me. Poor kid. The briefest image of my dad taking my kid to the movies rushed through my brain and I didn’t know what to feel. Would that ever happen? I shook it off and reached for the full bucket. “I’m sorry, sir. My mistake.” Yeah, my mistake that I’d heard him say ‘extra butter.’ Whatever. But I dumped the popcorn in the trash with a smile and got him a fresh tub.

I zipped my way through the mile-long line of customers as fast as I could, even stealing several from a sleepy Aaron’s line.

I grinned when he grumbled under his breath at me at the Icee machine. “Sorry, dude. Shouldn’t have partied so much this weekend. Sucker.”

He shoulder-checked me and put his cup up to the cherry flavor. “Oops.” He peered at me from his left eye as he drew up the frozen drink. “So . . . Melissa is a preggo bad ass, huh?”

I shrugged, secretly proud as hell. “I guess.”

We both turned, but he mumbled under his breath, “Well, Chloe had it coming. She was acting like a slut.”

I stifled a laugh and rang up my customer.

“Young!”

My head snapped around at Mr. Ross’s bark, suddenly worried I’d been busted messing around with my buddy instead of working. “Sir?”

“Finish up that last customer then meet me in my office.” He strode away without waiting for me to acknowledge him.

I glanced at Aaron and his wide-eyed stare had ‘Oh, shit’ written all over it.

I finished my line, washed my hands, then walked what felt like the Green Mile to Mr. Ross’s office. This time the door was closed so I knocked, and at a terse call, I opened the squeaky door. And stopped in my tracks.

Mr. Ross had his feet propped on his desk, his face totally relaxed in an uncharacteristic grin with the phone pressed to his ear. When he spotted me, he waved me in, the smile never wavering from his face. He indicated for me to shut the door, so I did and sank into the chair across from him, still in awe at this jovial version of my boss. Um, where was the real Mr. Ross? This was kinda freaky.

“I know, baby,” he said, his grin nearly splitting his face in two. “Your mother and I are so proud of you. It’s gonna be great.” His eyes briefly flitted to mine. “It’ll be awesome.” He slapped his feet back to the ground, his head tilted as he continued to listen. “I know. Listen, doll, I gotta go. I’ll call you later. Okay. Bye, baby. I love you.” He listened a moment longer, his face softening visibly before he hung up, his hand pausing over the phone before he met my gaze again.

“My daughter,” he said. “Meghan.”

I nodded.

“She’s getting ready to go off to college and she’s excited, but she’s also a nervous wreck.” He smiled again, pensively this time. “Pre-med. I can hardly believe it. My little girl. A doctor.” He shook his head.

“Wow,” I said. “You must be so proud.” I only wished I saw an ounce of that in my father’s eyes anymore. But it was gone. Like a puff of smoke; a shooting star. I’d glimpsed it once, but it was an elusive memory. I wondered if there was any way to get it back.

He cleared his throat. “I am. We are.” He pointed out the family photo I’d noticed my first time in his office. “My wife is having a lot of trouble letting go.” His grin doubled, if possible. “So I’m taking her on a surprise second honeymoon to Barbados.”

“That’s nice.”

He studied me a moment. “You know, Reed . . .”

My head shot up. He’d never called me by my first name.

“I understand exactly the position you’re in. Been there myself. And you might think I’m just an old man with kids your age. Maybe I am. But time passes in the blink of an eye, Son, and it won’t be that long until you’re in my shoes with a kid going off to college, and a wife wondering if she’s old, wondering where the hell your life’s gone.” His eyes lingered on his family photo. “And if I can offer you any advice? Don’t waste time wondering ‘what if?’ What’s done is done, know what I mean?”

I nodded dumbly.

“Good. Just take the bull by the horns. That’s how to do it, kid. Love your girl. Make it work if you can. Love your kid. Do the best you can. Be a man.”

“How?” I asked in a croak, realizing this man sitting across from me probably didn’t grow up wanting to manage a movie theater, but he’d made a life for himself. And he was happy. An honorable man, who I’d misjudged.

But was his life a glimpse into my own future?

He clasped his hands and leaned forward on his desk, capturing me with his eyes. “Son, that’s a day to day battle. Just keep fighting it.”

I ducked my eyes. “Yes, sir. Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me. Just do right by your baby and don’t shirk your responsibilities like I’ve seen half of the punks I hire do, and we’ll be fine.”

I bit back a relieved smile. He had no worries there. “Okay.”

“Now,” he said, his voice back to business, “I appreciate you working hard since I made you shift manager.”

“Oh, thanks . . .”

“And I know you’re supposed to be off tomorrow, but I need you to work two ‘til eight, and man the projector. I’ve got it covered until you get outta school, but Jose called in. His mom died.”

So that’s why he’d called me into his office.

I nodded automatically. I’d never turned him down. “Sure . . .” Shit. Mel’s appointment.

“Good.” He stood and brushed some crumbs from his pants. “I’ve gotta get. I’m meeting my wife for dinner.” He tossed me a smile, grabbed his keys and slid out the door. He turned to me one last time. “Don’t forget what I said, Young, and you’ll do fine. I promise.”

I sighed.

Somehow, I didn’t think I was off to a good start.

October 30
th

Thank God I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow. This is the worst I’ve felt and I’m really scared. I hope he can give me some medicine or something. I’m puffy, my head hurts, my chest is even starting to hurt just under my right boob—like massive indigestion or something. Ick.

Chris must’ve sensed something was up, he tried really hard all night to make me laugh, but I’m just not up to it. I didn’t feel like calling Roxanne either.

I don’t even have the energy to worry or obsess about my mistakes today.

I need to go to bed early. (Yawn.)

I just wish Reed was here. He always makes me feel better.