Yes. I don’t need another ride to the hospital, so don’t panic. But I thought you’d want to know I’m in an early labor, and it really isn’t that bad so far. Although give it a few hours, and you’ll probably hear my screams.
Me
Unlikely. I can barely hear anything in this bar.
It’s difficult to describe the feeling as I hit Send on my last message. All I know is it feels uneasy, maybe even unnatural, and I don’t like it.
Billie
Taking advantage of the single life now that Maria isn’t keeping tabs on you?
Me
Aren’t you in labor?
I let the Maria comment slide. Billie’s conclusions are right even if I’ve no idea how she reached them.
Billie
Apparently, I need to distract my mind and relax so the contractions progress.
Me
And you thought that you’d achieve that by messaging me?
Billie
Right? What was I thinking?
Me
If you must know, I was dragged out by my teammates, and I’m standing by the bar, drinking a soda.
Billie
Party on, old man.
Me
Brat.
Billie
But seriously, you’re standing on your own in the bar? Surely, you have women surrounding you from every angle now that the world knows that Emmett Richards is officially back on the market.
I should probably pocket my phone and ignore Billie’s last text.
That’s definitely what I should do.
Me
What are you trying to insinuate, Miss Quinn? I’m old and a little slow on the uptake.
I chug the rest of my soda, gripping my phone tightly in my palm as I watch Billie type and then stop, and then begin typing again. My heart hammers in my chest, excitement sparking through me for the first time since I can remember.
Technically, I’m doing nothing wrong. Realistically, I’m walking a tightrope.
Billie
