What’s the rest of the story?
Oh, wait.
I have orders.
I clear my throat.
Feel the burn on my tongue.
Feel the fizzies in my brain.
I can do this. “Whaa—aat’s the rest of the stoooooooooory?” I sing.
Like Ryan Reynolds would.
I honestly can do a killer Ryan Reynolds impression. It’s a gift.
Grey makes a choking noise and reaches for his own drink.
Theo looks me dead in the eye without cracking a grin. “Why are you herenow?”
“Oh, that,” I start. And then I remember my orders. “Should I dance too?”
“No,” Grey says. “We don’t want to scare the wildlife.”
“Or have them mistake your dancing for a mating ritual,” Theo agrees. “Sing. Why are you herenow?”
Yes. That. I squeeze my eyes together, and the dots behind my eyelids crisscross until they tell me I should answer with a real song.
A Bro Code song. Like Ryan Reynolds would sing it. “Because she’s my everything sweeeeeeetheeeeaaaart,” I bellow. “My dreeeeeeammy swweeeetheeeaaarrt.”
“You just woke up one morning, remembered she exists, and decided she’s your sweetheart?” Theo isstillnot cracking a smile.
Grey’s like,whimpering. The man can’t hold his laughter. Just can’t.
I havebrokenhim.
Hear that sizzle?
That’s the sound of my burnt tongue making a checkmark in the sky.
Jonas, one. Grey, zero.
I mean, Grey forty-three billion, because he was there to see Emma pregnant. To watch Bash grow. To be part of their family.
And I just have one.
A measly, measly one.
“Was she—” I clear my throat.Orders.I have orders to perform. “Waaaas sheeee beee-yooo-tiful when sheeee waaaas carrrrrying my baaaaaaby?”
A bug flies in my throat, and I choke. Gag.
Spit.
Cough.
“Donotgive him another kombucha,” Grey orders Theo.
