Overtime

“She is,” Jordie agreed, kissing her cheek. “Stupid nickname and all.”


Kacey was about to defend her nickname when the waiter stopped at their table. “Hey, y’all! Sorry for the wait,” he said, bringing everyone’s attention to him. “What can I get y’all to drink?”

“Oh, thank God,” Stacey almost cheered. “Well, first, I want a glass of your best red. And then, Philly, you want a Jack and Coke?”

“Please,” Phil said. Kacey’s hand squeezed Jordie’s, her eyes cutting to his as he looked to her, a little panic in his eyes.

“It’s fine. It’s gross anyway,” she tried and he scoffed. “Kinda.” He smiled as he shrugged, the waiter looking to her. “Water, please.”

“Me too,” Jordie added and the waiter nodded, but Stacey stopped him.

“Also a round of shots. Tequila?”

Phil nodded, but Kacey shook her head. “Pregnant, no can do.”

“What?” Stacey blurted out. “Pregnant?”

Jordie glanced at her, surprised, and she smiled. She was trying to protect him. She knew he was proud of his sobriety, and she was too, but having the attention on her and off him seemed like a good idea.

“Yeah, only seven weeks, but pregnant nonetheless.”

“With your baby?” Stacey asked Jordie and he nodded, his arm snaking along Kacey’s shoulders.

“Yup, we are really excited.”

She made a face as Phil turned to her. “You’ll be a grandma.”

Cold day in fucking hell, Kacey thought, and Jordie’s eyes said the same thing once they met hers.

“Eh, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” she said, and Jordie whipped his head to her.

“What does that mean?”

“It means no telling what will happen between you two,” she said, her lip curved as she moved her finger between the two of them.

“I can tell you, actually,” he said with a little venom in his voice, his hand squeezing Kacey’s. “We’ll get married, have a baby, and live a fucking great life.”

She looked to the wide-eyed waiter—why was he still waiting? She understood the drama was probably entertaining to an outsider, but he needed to go get the drinks. “So, just two shots then,” she said to him, and he realized that she was dismissing him before Stacey stopped him.

Glaring at Kacey, Stacey’s hand curled around his arm before she dragged her gaze to his. “No, three,” she demanded before looking back at Kacey. “Just ’cause you can’t drink doesn’t mean he can’t. Don’t let her start controlling you, Jordie,” she snapped and Kacey’s eye started to twitch. She wasn’t going to make it with this chick.

“Um, actually, still just two. I’m an alcoholic.”

Well, there it is, Kacey thought, leaning back and looking at Jordie, bursting with pride. Was he perfect? Hell no, but he was honestly the strongest man she had ever met, and she loved him, truly. With all her heart. He wore his sobriety like a badge of honor, and he fucking should. He was amazing.

But apparently she was the only one who thought so.

Phil’s jaw had dropped and Stacey started to sputter before she shrieked, “What?”

“Good for you, bro. I’ll get you guys your drinks and just two shots,” the waiter said and she almost asked him to take her and Jordie with him, because one look at Stacey and she knew that shit was about to hit the fan.

“Actually, can you make it just a Coke for me, and no shots?” Phil asked. “I don’t want to wave it in your face.”

“Thanks,” Jordie said appreciatively, and Kacey decided that maybe Phil wasn’t so bad.

“Oh no, I want my shot and my wine,” Stacey said, and she must have missed the way everyone looked at her…or maybe she didn’t. Because, with a snide look, she said, “What? I’m not an alcoholic. And what does that even mean? How do you know?”

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