“You mean that Ellie girl?”
I peek through the crack in the door and see two girls standing at the sink, reapplying lip gloss. The blonde is tall and hippy, and the brunette is short and painfully thin. I can’t remember their names, but I met them at yoga once and have seen them around Jackson Brews a few times. I hold my breath, trying to stay quiet. In terms of small-town gossip, I’m never privy to much, but I know Jackson Harbor isn’t immune. It sounds like I’m about to get a taste of it.
“I’m not talking about Ellie,” the blonde says, “but she’d better watch out. Molly McKinley is out there.”
“Blow Job Molly is back in town?”
If they hadn’t used her last name, I’d have thought they were talking about a different Molly. Ava calls Molly Mother Teresa because of all the volunteer and not-for-profit work she does—a far cry from Blow Job Molly.
“I heard she has a four-year-old. Apparently, the Jacksons found out about it when she started working for them, but get this—Amanda saw Molly and the kid when she was in New York last month. She ran into them on the subway of all places. Anyway, she said the kid looks just like Colton McKinley.”
Looks just like . . .
No.
Ava would have mentioned it.
Unless . . .
Oh, hell no.
Nausea punches my stomach into my throat. I put my head in my hands. It’s just gossip. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s probably not even true.
“Her stepbrother? Isn’t that a little gross?”
Through the space at the side of the door, I can see the blonde shrug. “Nah, Colton’s hot, and it’s not like they ever lived together like brother and sister. But you’re missing the best part. The question is, does Colton know?”
“Oh, shit. You think he doesn’t?”
“Why else would she keep the kid a secret? Remember when Colton was thick with that gang from Chicago, and there were all those rumors that he was dealing? Maybe Molly knew he was involved in that stuff and didn’t want him around her kid. Anyway, now Molly’s moving back to Jackson Harbor, and there’s gonna be a shit storm of drama.”
Are these bitches right? I want to laugh off what I’m hearing, but on some level it kind of makes sense. Just over two months ago, the Jacksons found out about Molly’s baby, and it almost ruined Jake and Ava. It all ended up working out for them, but it wasn’t much later that Colton started withdrawing.
“Why’s she moving back now?” the brunette asks. “She’s hardly been here since she left for college.”
“I know, right? I feel like I need to lock up my husband.”
“No kidding. That girl would get on her knees for anyone.”
I hate those girls for talking shit about Molly. Not because I care about her, but because they’re ruining my anger. I can’t think evil thoughts about anyone who gets badmouthed the way they’re doing her.
“And did you see Trin out tonight? Did you see what she was wearing?”
“I know. It’s like she doesn’t even know she’s had two kids in two years. Someone needs to tell that slut her body isn’t what it used to be.”
“Don’t you dare. Seeing the outfits she tries to pull off is the most entertainment I get some days.”
I close my eyes and wait for the catty bitches to leave. I ignore the feeling of my world crashing down around me for a beat to say a small prayer of thanks that somehow I’ve been blessed with friends who are kind and who’d never talk about other women like that. I had some catty friends back in college. A few times I was guilty of laughing when they cracked jokes about other girls, but it always left me feeling dirty and ugly inside. I didn’t know anyone when I came to Jackson Harbor, but it looks like I got lucky when I found my friends.
But as cruel as those women were being, I know part of what they said is true: Molly is probably moving back to town, and she has a little boy who’s four years old and who, up until a couple of months ago, she’d kept a secret from everyone in Jackson Harbor, including her family.
But the rest of it? That maybe the kid is Colton’s?
Then there are the rumors about Colton and the drugs. Colton wasn’t dealing when I met him, but he admitted he used to “do some favors” for a guy back when he was in college, and that’s when he developed and started fighting his own addiction. So it does make sense that Molly would want to keep her child away from that.
I put my hand on my stomach. Why did I have to get pregnant? I wasn’t ready, and everything with Colton on top of this is too much. I feel like if I tell him and he stays, I’ll never know if he really wants to be with me or if he’s just staying for the baby. But I’m terrified of doing this alone.
When I hear the girls leave, I wash my hands, but instead of going back to the table, I cut through the back hallway toward the kitchen. Levi is helping behind the bar tonight, and he might be the only person in the world who knows Colton better than I do.
Levi
“How many years would a girl like me get for castrating an asshole?” Ellie asks. She’s sitting on the counter in the kitchen of Jackson Brews, scowling at the floor as if it’s personally offended her. Like I do every time I see her, I get the combination of a gut punch and a magnetic draw that’s pulled me to her since we met at that party two and a half years ago.
“I guess that would depend on the situation. Is it self-defense?” I abandon my tray of dishes by the machine and cross to her, which, given her mood and the subject matter, might be the dumbest idea I’ve had all night. But let’s face it: this is Ellie. She could be wielding a knife and reciting a recipe for fried testicles, and moving closer would still be my first instinct.
“Not self-defense but totally justified. He’s pissing me off. And we haven’t fucked in months.”
My brows shoot up at that little nugget of information. “Oh.”
She grimaces. “Shit. I can’t believe I just told you that. And I can’t even blame alcohol.”
I carefully put on my best poker face and fold my arms. “It’s cool. Anyway, um, just tell the judge he’d been withholding sex. Castrating a man for not putting out will get you off the hook every time.”
She grunts in a half laugh. “Since he’s your friend, do you want to suggest some castration alternatives so I don’t end up in prison?”
Dump him and be with me.
I force myself to shut my mouth before I answer that question. This thing I have for my best friend’s girl is the worst kind of masochism. The night we met, the chemistry between us flipped a switch I’ve never been able to turn back off. For more than two years, I believed the only thing worse than being in love with your best friend’s girl was knowing your best friend made her really fucking happy. Because he did. Colton McKinley might have been an idiot about half the shit in his life, but he scored a home run with Ellie. He did something for her. She smiled the moment he walked into the room. Checked her phone obsessively when she was waiting for a text from him. She talked about their future together as if it was both inevitable and part of her own personal fairytale.
But something’s changed in the last two months. Colton’s pulled away, and Ellie’s grown increasingly unhappy. I thought watching them together while she was blissed-out in love was hard, but it’s nothing compared to watching him make her so damn miserable.
“Do you want to tell me why Colton’s about to lose his dick?” I ask. “You know, so I can be informed when I suggest alternatives. Or is it just the . . .” I clear my throat. I could go the rest of my days without talking about Ellie and Colton’s sex life and it would be just fine by me. “The dry spell.”