My sister begins to round the table toward him, cocking her fist back, but I intercept her before she gets within arm’s reach. “Dil…”
“You’re lucky I feel sorry for you.” Her teeth are clenched as her gaze penetrates Elliot.
“I don’t need your fucking pity,” he slurs.
“Maybe you’ve had enough,” Rhonan says, reaching over to take Elliot’s glass from his hands.
Elliot pushes his arm away, draining the last of his beer. “I’m not a fucking child.”
“Then stop acting like one,” Dilynne snaps.
Laney clears her throat. “Look, Elliot, I think you should go cool off for a minute. Let me take you back to my dad’s office.”
Elliot wraps his arm around Laney’s neck, stumbling slightly as she leads him away. “I wish I had a sister like you,” he mumbles just loud enough for all of us to hear.
Fletcher pushes a hand through his hair. “Is he always like this now?”
“Well, while you were at training camp, he mostly drank at home. Now, he’s making a sport out of it,” Rhonan answers. “I don’t know how long we’re supposed to let this go on until we intervene.”
Dilynne scoffs. “Maybe you give him some Everclear or tequila next time, and then when he’s so hungover he feels like he wants to die, he’ll stop.”
I shake my head, glancing back at the baby just as her eyes start to flutter open.
Blue eyes as dark as the ocean meet mine and my chest twists.
“Oh my God,” Dilynne whispers. “She’s awake.”
“What do I do?” My eyes dart over to Rhonan and my heart begins to race in my chest.
“Did Meghan leave you any formula? Diapers? Wipes? She’s probably going to be hungry and need a diaper change soon.” His eyes drop down to the diaper bag.
I push it toward him. “I haven’t even opened this thing yet. I don’t know what any of that shit is.” Clutching my hair between my fingers, I pull it up until it’s standing on end. “Fuck, I can’t do this.”
Fletcher rounds the table and puts his hand on my shoulder. “Just breathe, Henley. Rhonan, maybe you should go home with Henley and walk him through a few things. Tomorrow, you can wake up with a fresh mind and tackle this thing head-on, okay?”
“Yeah, if the baby even lets him sleep,” Rhonan mutters as he digs through the bag.
“What do you mean?”
He glances up at me, and then to Dilynne and Fletcher as Laney comes back from her dad’s office, minus Elliot. “She’s only three months old. She probably doesn’t sleep through the night yet.”
“Jesus Christ.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I can’t fucking handle this right now. I have a job, a life. I have interviews tomorrow…”
Rhonan shrugs. “Welcome to parenthood. You have to juggle that and take care of another human being. That’s why I hired Joanne.”
Joanne is the nanny Rhonan hired to help with his daughter right after she was born. Unfortunately, Rhonan’s wife, Sarah, died during childbirth, so if there’s anyone who understands an ounce of the responsibility I’ve just been given, it’s him.
“Can I take Joanne from you?” I ask, a little too desperately.
Rhonan laughs before growing serious. “Fuck no. I can’t survive without that woman. Find your own nanny, Clark.” Returning to the bag, he finds a canister and pulls out an empty bottle. When he popsthe lid and looks inside, he winces. “There might be enough formula to last you another day or so, but I could be wrong. It’s been a long time since I’ve had to worry about this.” Ellis is almost five, so I can imagine he’s rusty with the baby stuff. But he still knows a hell of a lot more than I do. “Even still, you need to get more supplies—fast.”
Sighing, I stare back at my daughter, inhaling her scent, absorbing just how small she feels in my arms, and wondering for the hundredth time what the hell I just got myself into. “You’re stuck with me now, Remy.”
“Remy?” Dilynne asks.
“Yeah, it’s short for Remington. That’s what Meghan named her.”
With a lift of the corner of her mouth, my sister glances up at me. “Well, at least she has a badass name. It almost cancels out the fact that her father doesn’t know what he’s doing.”
