“You’re being ridiculous,” she says, poking me in the chest before smoothing the spot with her finger. “First of all, he said it would be in the future. He clearly doesn’t mean nine months from now.”
“You sure about that? Because I am not sure about that, and until I get a timeline?—”
“Did you also threaten JT with homicide?” Viv asks, arching a brow.
“JT? My OG bestie? Of course not. Why would I do that?”
Viv makes a humming sound with her lips and I have no idea what she’s going to say next, but I can guaran-damn-tee it’s not going to end well for me.
“I just find it funny, that’s all,” she says, tapping her lip. “I mean, you jump to the conclusion that your sister is expecting, and you start handing out death threats. I’m just saying it stands to reason that you did the same thing when you found out that your best friend had gotten my best friend pregnant. But you didn’t, so I guess that was different somehow?”
She’s got me there.
I open my mouth to explain that I knew JT was completely devoted to Maggie even before I found out they were having a baby. But that argument ain’t worth shit because it’s no longer a secret that Dutton is ass-over-blades in love with my twin sister. Nope. He’s loud and proud and never misses an opportunity to kiss her or touch her or drone on about how perfect she is. And she’s the same way. She’s been happier than ever these past few months. She’s confident and comfortable in her own skin. That should make me ecstatic since I spent a lot of our childhood building my sister back up when other people tore her down.
Until two seconds ago, I’d have said I was over the whole thing, fine with the two of them being together. And I am, for the most part,but I guess I’m not the emotionally mature adult I always thought I was. I have to smile at that. I’m not sure anybody has ever described me as mature, emotionally or otherwise.
“It’s gotta be hard,” Viv says, her voice gentle as she reaches for my hand.
A part of my brain wants to jump in and quip, “It’s always hard for you, baby," but I manage to shut up my inner thirteen-year-old self so we can have a serious conversation. Huh. Maybe I have matured after all.
“Nah,” I say. “It’s all good. I just want Bridgette to be happy.”
“I believe you,” Viv says, turning in her seat so she’s facing me, our hands still threaded together. “But two things can be true at once. You can be happy for your sister, but still struggling with the way things have changed. Think about it. You spent so much time protecting Bridgette, and now?—”
“We protected each other,” I interject. “And our life wasn’t awful or anything.” This isn’t the first time I’ve opened up to Viv about my family, but since I’ve clearly got some issues to sort through, maybe it’s a good thing that we’re talking about it again. “It’s just… they thought we were both too much, you know? Like, my mom and my aunts we’re always on Bridgette about her weight, always trying to put her on diets or keeping track of what she ate. But I was too much in a different way. I had too much energy to burn, too many thoughts racing through my mind. Mom signed me up for every sport imaginable just so my hyperactive ass could settle down and get to sleep when bedtime came. But yeah, I stood up for her. Of course, I did. The way they treated her wasn’t right.”
“The way they treated you wasn’t, either.” Viv says, giving my hand a squeeze. “But you took care of each other, and built each other up. That’s what family does, and I love that you both had that. Enter Dutton Wagner, though, and things change. It’s got to be hard seeing someone else fill that role, especially if it’s a guy you never really liked in the first place.”
It’s crazy how Viv can put into words exactly what I’m feeling. She knows me so well. “Yeah, that kinda sucks,” I say, chuckling because I should probably be over it by now. Duttonand I have made our peace, and all I need to do is look at how he treats my sister to know that he’s a good guy.
Viv reaches up with her free hand and traces the stubble along my jaw. Her touch is soothing. It calms me like almost nothing else can. “Cut yourself some slack,” she says, a smile gracing those full lips I love to kiss. “You’re a damn warrior, Mick, and I love that about you. You protect your inner circle with a fierceness I’ve never seen before. But it’s okay to let a little of that control go. It doesn’t make you less of a protector. And it’s okay to let Dutton share that space.”
Viv’s not saying anything that hasn’t been said before. Hell, I’ve had those same thoughts myself. But when they come from her sweet lips? They click in my brain. They give me a little clarity and some space to breathe.
I’m tempted to tell her what’s going on with my credits and the meeting I had with Ms. Arnold this morning. My head’s still spinning and the decisions I have to make aren’t any easier now than they were a few hours ago. But maybe if I share them with Viv, if I let her in, all of this will start to make sense?
Before I can find the words or the courage to open my mouth, my phone buzzes with a text, so Viv and I look down to read it.
Dutton: Jesus. Calm the hell down, you fucking nutjob. I meant in the future, like the distant future. Okay, not too distant if I’m being honest, but definitely not right the fuck now.
Dutton: I do love her, though. She’s my whole damn world. And how freaking cute will our future children be?
Dutton: Okay, I’ll stop because I’m just making it worse, and I already have shitty news to deliver. Nick got held up so he probably won’t be there for an hour and a half. Want me to come get you so you don’t have to sit and wait?
“Should we take him up on his offer?” I ask, leaving the decision up to Viv because I’m perfectly content to sit here with her all night, but I won’t put up a fuss if she wants full access to a bed, my cozy blankets, and complete control over what we watch on TV.
“I don’t know,” she says, shrugging noncommittally. “A new episode ofDiary of a Killerjust dropped, so we could watch that.”
I nod, because that sounds like fun. Who am I kidding? Everything with Viv sounds like fun because well, she’s Viv.
“But staying here wouldn’t be so bad,” she continues. “I love the hockey house and all the guys in it, but sometimes it’s nice when it’s just the two of us, you know?”
“Yeah, I do know,” I tell her honestly, turning our hands so I can rub my thumb across the smooth skin of her palm.
This is it. This is my opening. I can unload all my issues and let Viv calm my mind and help me sort my motherfucking life out. Or I can find my damn balls and confess my very real feelings for her. I can tell her that I want more. I can ask for the chance to prove myself worthy of her.
I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna take the plunge. It might be the riskiest move I’ve ever made, but the reward will be fucking worth it.
