Fighting to Forgive (Fighting, #2)

“Yeah, Rave. Have a drink. Jonah will—oh, wait!” Eve slaps her forehead. “You can’t.” She laughs to herself.

“Eve, shut up.” Raven’s reprimand has little effect on her.

“What’s going on, baby? You sick?” His questions are heavy with concern.

“No. I’m not sick.” Raven places her hand on Jonah’s cheek and runs her thumb along his eyebrow.

Jonah’s eyes get dark and bore into his wife’s. Blake pulls me close, his hand gliding up into my hair. The tension swirls between everyone at the table, and I wonder how long until someone blurts it out. It better be soon or, going by the tense set of his jaw, Jonah may lose it.

“I wanted to tell you when we were alone, but since some people can’t keep their big fat mouth shut…”

We all lean in. Even knowing what she’s about to say, I feel like I’m waiting for a surprise.

She frames his face with her hands. With a kiss on his lips, she moves to his ear and whispers.

Blake’s lips are at my ear. “What’s going—”

“Shh!” I shush him and lean in closer to the couple.

Everyone’s silent. Watching.

She pulls back, eyebrows raised at her husband. He looks at her briefly and then drops his forehead to her chest. She holds him close, her fingers running through his hair as she whispers something private. He nods a few times into her hold, presumably affirming her words. He nuzzles in deeper and she accepts him, cradling his head like she will their newborn baby.

In this beautiful moment between two people who are devoted to each other and connected through their shared love, I’m overwhelmed with sadness. As a witness to the moment that will forever change their lives, I can’t help but feel envy. Being so in love with someone that you don’t know where you start and they end. Joy over the idea of new life, a living, breathing, physical manifestation of the love you share for one another. The support of a soul partner that will protect you, and keep you and your unborn child safe and healthy until they breathe their last breath.

“Layla.” Eve hands me a napkin and motions to her face.

Shit. I dab away the couple of tears that ran loose on me and smile through my somber thoughts.

“You okay, Mouse?” Blake kisses my head, and I nod against his lips.

“Yeah. It’s just really sweet, that’s all.”

“What’s really sweet? I can’t figure out what the hell’s going on.”

I laugh and tilt my head up to his smiling face. “Ask them.”

“Yo, what the fuck’s going on?” Blake yells, breaking up the romantic moment.

I slap his chest. “Shut up.”

Jonah kisses his wife and looks around the table. The most shocking smile I’ve ever seen on a man is etched into his face. “We’re having a baby.”

Blake

Well, fuck me. I knew they were in a hurry, but I didn’t expect that so soon. I don’t get it. Why the urgent need to start a family? If I ever get married, I don’t think I’d be ready to share my bride with a kid. Wait, bride? Kid? What the hell’s wrong with me?

“Congrats, man.” I shake Jonah’s hand. “Happy for you.”

Layla leans into me and her arm tightens around my waist. My eyes roll to the ceiling without her noticing. What is it with women and babies? It’s like an airborne infection that spreads instantly and makes chicks get all weepy.

Just the thought of being a father, having that kind of responsibility over another human… shit, I’m barely taking care of myself. Chances are, I’d end up being a prick dad. One who controls, who sets ridiculously high expectations, who dominates by the sheer strength of my voice. I’m not cut out for parenthood.

But neither was Jonah, until Raven.

When Raven came into the guy’s life, it’s like he saw the world through a different pair of shades. At the time, I thought he was an idiot, but now that I’ve seen him with his girl, I get it. For the first time ever, I get the appeal of being in a committed relationship. Having someone to eat, sleep, and laugh with every day. Someone who asks about your day and genuinely cares about the answer. A best friend who I can share my secrets with, free of judgment.

I look down at Layla while she goes back and forth with Raven about girlie baby shit. Layla’s funny and relaxed, with just the right amount of fuck-you attitude. Gorgeous in a way that makes my chest throb harder than my dick. Now there’s a revelation.

Damn. With all her baggage and her hang-ups, I’m falling for this girl.

“I hate to be a party pooper, guys. But I have to work tomorrow.” The sound of Layla’s voice pulls me back from my head.

“Oh, right. The promo party at Flesh.” Raven’s eyes dart between Layla and me, like she’s waiting for me to blow up and start tossing tables.

But I’ve got other plans.

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