Don’t I feel like a shit? I should be angry at Royce for never saying he was dating someone, not this poor girl who was just as clueless as I was.
“I thought you guys would get along wonderfully. I guess I didn’t take into account the Jen monster.” He points his thumb toward Jen.
I smile and, thankfully, Campbell steps in and offers Hannah a drink. Vivian folds an arm through hers and together they pull the sweet girl to the deck where the others are.
“Let’s go, Jen,” Campbell shouts from the kitchen.
“I’m watching you,” she tells Royce, backpedaling into the kitchen. “One wrong move and I’ll have you out on your ass.”
Royce doesn’t answer; he simply salutes her before bringing his attention back to me.
“What’s all this about?” he asks, waving his hands around my face. “You look…different. Good,” he stutters, “just different.”
“I made the mistake of allowing Jen to do my makeup,” I explain with an embarrassed smile. “Hannah seems nice,” I add, trying to change the subject.
He laughs and scratches the facial hair that lines his chin. “She’s a bit of a pain in my ass, but I’m kind of stuck with her,” he finally says. He pulls me close to him and rubs my cheek where Jen went a little wild with the blush. “I like Carly just the way she is, no additives needed,” he whispers in my ear before moving past me to meet the others outside.
What in the ever-loving hell?
We hit it off, hang out, and even kiss in Vegas. We’ve been texting and talking since we got back, then bam! He shows up with a date, but then tells me he likes plain old me.
No thank you, I’m too old to play games. High school love triangles lost their appeal in high school. I’m happy to be his friend, and if one day he was capable, maybe more. For right now, I don’t need what he’s offering in my life. I have enough complication and crazy for the whole group without groupie girl drama added to the mix.
I take another drink of my beer and follow the same path as the others to the backyard. My friends have made a circle in the grass and the guys have stationed themselves around the barbecue grill. The older kids are playing on the swing set while the babies crawl in the grass and play with a small pile of toys. This is what group get-togethers always look like. There’s only one major difference today; Royce and Hannah have joined us.
Instead of immediately joining my circle of girls, I hang back on the deck. Even though I’ve placed Royce in the friend column, I can’t help but still watch his interaction with Hannah. The two of them are friendly and close, but not touchy feely, not how I would imagine Royce would be with a girlfriend. I’ve had years of half-assed affection from Jack, I guess I dodged a bullet by not pursuing anything with Royce.
Then suddenly, Jen’s screams for Casen break through my stalking moment and all attention is focused on Jen’s panic as she picks up Ryker from the grass. Tears stream down her face as fear paralyzes her. The guys rush to them, Casen leading the pack, and as I get closer, I see what the commotion is about…Ryker is choking. His little eyes are watering from trying to expel whatever is stuck in his throat, and his red face is strained from the lack of oxygen.
Before Casen even has the opportunity do anything for Ryker, Royce grabs him from Jen’s arms. He turns the baby on his arm and pats hard on his back. I cringe watching, idle, useless to help. It feels like forever, but within seconds, Royce pulls him back up and swipes a finger through Ryker’s mouth.
There are gasps all around when Ryker’s cries pierce the silence of the moment. Royce then pulls the baby close and tenderly pats him on the back, whispering to him.
He hands him back to Jen who grabs ahold of him tightly and caresses his little head as she rocks him. He turns to Casen and hands him the small pebble that had been wedged in Ryker’s throat. Everyone’s jaws are hanging open in surprise. This was an extremely tense moment, and the last person anyone expected to save the day was Royce.
Casen shakes his hand. “Thank you, man,” he says. He pauses, looking down at the rock in his hand. “I don’t know what to say,” he stammers, emotion filling his voice. “Thank you.”
“I have a nephew who we lovingly refer to as the vacuum. From the age of six months to eighteen months, if it was on the floor, that kid was putting it in his mouth. My poor sister was constantly scanning the floor for anything he could get his hands on, but it didn’t matter; he would find it and choke on it.” Royce tries to make light of the situation, easing the tension. We all know, though, if he had not acted as fast as he had, this could have ended very badly.
Ryker’s cries have softened to nothing more than ragged breaths, and Jen paces around with him as Vivian follows behind offering motherly support. She is paying no attention to Royce’s family stories or his reasoning for how he knew what to do. She is focusing on her child.
My heart aches for her. Liv has never had more than an ear infection or a scraped knee; the possibility of losing her would bring me to my knees. I love all of these people so much; their pain is my pain.
Royce is still rambling on about his sisters and their kids when Jen marches up to him and bear hugs him. Ryker is smashed between the two, but she continues to hold tight to Royce’s neck.
“I’ll never be able to show you how thankful I am for what you did for us today,” she tells him. Her voice breaks, but unlike Casen, she allows her emotion to show. “I’m so sorry for every mean thing I said to or about you.”
He soothingly rubs her back before pulling way to stroke Ryker’s head. “It was no big deal, really,” he says before turning his attention to me. “I’m sure I’ll think of something, though,” he adds with a wink.
Carly
“Hurry, Liv, we are so late!” I shout from my bathroom. “Grab your shoes and jacket, and meet me at the door.”
My voice echoes down the hallway, and I know the lack of response means I will find a child with neither shoes nor jacket when I finally emerge from my room. I’m supposed to be at work in thirty minutes, and I still have to take Olivia to Vivian’s. I hate being late, and I think this day will prove to be one big smelly fart ready to crop dust me at every turn.
Brushing and curling the last segment of my hair, which looks like a whole colony of mice could live in, the door bells rings, distracting me from my styling mess. “Great,” I mutter, throwing the brush onto the counter.
I grab my shoes and teeter back and forth from foot to foot, cinching them on. “Hurry, Liv,” I shout once more as I race down the hall and through the living room to the entry door.
“Look, Jack, now’s not a good time. I’m running late this morning,” I say as I swing open the door and bend down to finish buckling my sandals.
“Um, sorry, wrong guy,” my visitor smoothly responds, forcing my head up to meet him.
Well, crap on a cracker…Royce.
“Sorry,” I say, standing and holding the door open for him. “He’s been calling and showing up a lot lately now that the divorce is in full swing and getting closer to being finalized. I just assumed it would be him here to bother me.”
He steps through the door, and I catch a whiff of his cologne as he passes. It’s enticing enough that I find myself leaning in momentarily to take in just a little more of the inebriating smell. Sweet baby Jesus, he’s delicious.
It’s early morning; yet, he has this look that says, ‘I’m a rock star, and I don’t keep hours. Besides, I look good no matter the time.’ I don’t think he even tries to be sexy, he just is. His beard, tousled hair that can be pulled into a knot, and tattoos are the qualities that Jen, or even Campbell, would drool over, not me. However, here Royce is, and I can’t seem to help myself. I want to just lick him up.