Afraid to Fly (Fearless #2) (21 page)

Angel was right. I was still too raw with doubt and self-loathing to try to inspire those young minds. How could I anyway? I was no role model. Even without the dark cloud of my past looming over me, they shouldn’t aspire to be some self-absorbed prick that would pretty much fuck anything with two holes. Who the hell did I think I was to even think I could be some type of mentor to young men? At nearly 25 years of age, I didn’t even have my own shit together.

“Kami is already on her way over,” Angel stated, breaking me from my reverie. “Take a long, hot shower. She’s bringing breakfast.”

I shook my head. “Why do you always have her on food runs?”

Angel mimicked my gesture with a shrug. “She insists. She said she misses taking care of us. And now that Blaine won’t let her work behind the bar, she’s bored and feels like she has no purpose. Plus, let’s face it . . . we like to eat.”

She was right. We did always seem to bond over food. Emotional eaters to the core. And if it helped Kami come to grips with slowing down, then who was I to stop her?

I did as I was told and spent a good twenty minutes under the hot spray of the shower. I reeked of dried sweat and two-day-old funk, and my hair was greasy and matted. Angel had given me my space when I asked. She was used to my highs and lows, but she had never seen me this bad before. Calling Kami ensured I couldn’t avoid my problems—my feelings—any longer. It was two against one, and I had a feeling they were prepared for battle.

After I had slipped on a pair of loose sweatpants and towel-dried my hair, I padded out to the kitchen, where Kami and Angel were unpacking Styrofoam trays of food and small bottles of OJ. The aroma wafting from those containers had my mouth watering, and my stomach growled so loudly that I almost blushed with embarrassment.

“Mr. Bradley did me a solid and whipped up something special for us,” she smiled before leaning forward to peck me on the cheek. “He knows how much you love a good southern meal, so we’ve got homemade biscuits and sausage gravy, eggs, grits, country ham steaks and fried green tomatoes. Dig in!”

Everything looked as delicious as it smelled, and considering that I hadn’t eaten more than a few handfuls of dried cereal and a bag of Chex Mix in the past couple days, I was more than grateful for the unexpected gift from both Kami and Mr. Bradley. Their thoughtfulness was overwhelming, and for a second, I felt undeniably full.

We sat down cross-legged on the carpet like we always did, the TV on but muted. It seemed like it’d been weeks since we saw each other instead of days, and I was glad to listen to the girls prattle on about their recent adventures. Besides, we had a lot to talk about.

“And then I told that bitch . . .” Angel trilled, waving around a forkful of scrambled eggs animatedly, “if you don’t shut your damn mouth, I will come through the fucking phone and slap you so hard that your teeth will knock together. And that heifer acted like she didn’t even hear me! Can you believe that?”

“Angel . . . it was an automated message,” I deadpanned. “She didn’t hear you. Because
she
is a machine.”

“I don’t give a damn! I told her my credit card was not closed. It’s a fucking black card. You can’t close a black card.”

I shrugged. “Maybe there was a glitch?” In reality, I was concerned for her. Not because she was cussing out a computer-generated voice over the phone, but because her card had been closed. The card her parents had been paying for. The parents who had ostracized her for being gay. Maybe they were cutting her off for good.

“Glitch my ass,” she grumbled before digging back into her breakfast. She talked a good game, but deep inside, Angel was as soft and sensitive as they come. I wondered if she was as worried as I was. And if she was, in fact, being cut off, what did that mean for her? Was this their way of ceasing all communication and making her disappear?

“Anyway,” Kami began, successfully changing the subject. Thank God for that girl. “Something interesting happened today during my OB appointment.”

“You had an appointment?” I questioned, around a mouthful of fried green tomato. Mr. Bradley was a beast in the kitchen. After going from an Army cook for thirty years to a culinary god who could probably land a job at any fine establishment, I truly admired his loyalty and perseverance.

“Just a routine one, no big deal,” she waved. “Anyway, like I was saying, something interesting happened.”

“And that is?”

“I saw your friend again. Raven, right?”

If the stunned, slightly pained, expression on my face didn’t explain what I felt, surely my jumbled words did. “You saw . . . what? What do you mean? How? Where?”

“At the hospital. She was assisting my nurse. You didn’t tell me she was a nursing student. Makes sense, considering the scrubs that one day in your office.”

I hadn’t told them much of anything, really. But some things were better left unsaid. Like the fact that I had tried to kiss her, only to grossly offend her.

“Yeah,” I shrugged. “Did she recognize you?”

“I think so. I mean, obviously, she didn’t want to say anything since she was working, and Blaine was there. But before we left, I stopped her in the hall.”

“And?”

“And, I said hi.”

“And that’s it?” Why was she being so reticent? She had to have known I was chomping at the bit for answers.

“And I asked her how she was. Honestly, she was a bit standoffish. Like she didn’t understand why I was speaking to her, or she was surprised I was. And once she realized I was trying to be nice, she kinda looked . . . surprised. I don’t know. You didn’t tell her I was a cold-hearted bitch or anything like that, did you?”

“Me?” I snorted and shook my head. “No. Trust me, if I did, she’d probably welcome you with open arms. Maybe even teach you a secret handshake.”

Kami lifted a speculating brow. “Yikes. Jaded much?”

“Sorry,” I muttered. “Look, I really don’t want to talk about her right now. Can we talk about something else? Like, oh I don’t know, your freakin’ engagement?”

Now it was Kami’s turn to squirm with discomfort. Even Angel gave a co-signing
Mmm Hmmm.

“Engaged? Who said I was engaged? Don’t you think I would have told you guys something like that? And do you see a ring on my finger?” She wiggled her fingers in front of her face to emphasize her point.

“So you told him no?” Angel asked, reaching over to steal a chunk of Kami’s country ham off her plate.

“No. I had nothing to say
no
to. He didn’t ask.”

Angel and I gave her a skeptical look. She was bullshitting. Everyone knew Blaine was insanely in love with Kam and couldn’t wait to give her his last name.

“We both agreed it wasn’t the right time,” she tacked on. “And when it is, we want it to be on our terms. Not because someone spilled the beans and we’re obligated to.”

Angel dropped her gaze to her plate, reliving the regret of ruining Kam and Blaine’s special moment. She had apologized a hundred times, and they both forgave her, of course. But she still felt bad. So did I, for telling her.

She also hadn’t told us what happened that day when she came into Dive in tears, and now I had to wonder if it had something to do with her parents. Or the straight, married
friend
she had been spending all her time with.

I lifted a hand and brushed her cheek, causing her to look at me. “Speaking of that day . . . what happened? You were upset about something. Talk.”

She shook her head, but spoke anyway. “It’s just . . . Gia. She keeps telling me what a massive dick her husband is, and how it’d be so much easier if she could just leave. And how she wishes she
was
gay, because she loves me, and I’m her best friend, and it’d be so much better, and
blah blah blah.
I’m just so sick of hearing all the ways she wishes she could be with me, yet won’t. She keeps going back to him.”

Shit. She told me she wouldn’t get involved with a married woman. She knew Gia was married
and
straight—two things that Angel couldn’t and shouldn’t fuck with.

“Have you two . . . ?” Kami asked, her voice soft and comforting.

Angel shook her head. “We kissed once. We were both drunk, and she said she had never kissed a girl before. So . . . you know.” She let out a pained sigh, prompting both me and Kam to reach out to touch her.

“You don’t need to be anyone’s experiment, Angel,” I told her and meant it. “You are not some chick’s guinea pig, you hear me? If she can’t see what an incredible human being you are, then fuck her. Leave her to be with her shitty ass husband. That’s not your concern. And if she cared anything about you, she’d stop
making
it your concern.”

“I know,” she nodded through a tight smile. I really hoped that she did.

We finished off our plates, and Angel popped a bottle of champagne to make mimosas for her and me, hoping to lighten the mood. Kam looked into her pathetic little glass of juice. “God, I can’t wait to have this baby. I miss tequila. And sushi. And sleeping on my stomach.”

“And sex?” I asked, wriggling my brows.

“Why would I miss that?” she blushed. “I think we do it more now than ever. Hormones . . . they’re something else.”

“Ew!” Angel squealed. “Doesn’t his dick hit the baby? Is little Baby B going to be born with a huge dent in his head?”

“No!” Kami chuckled, leaning back onto a mound of throw pillows. We were all stuffed and sleepy. “The baby doesn’t feel it at all. Actually, my doctor suggested that we keep doing it. It’ll help when it’s time for delivery.”

“But isn’t that weird?” I asked, genuinely curious. “I mean, I get that pregnancy is a beautiful part of life and all that, but your belly is right there . . . And the baby can hear you . . . you know.” For all of my whorish ways, talking to Kami about sex was just something I couldn’t do. She was delicate to me. A sweet, delicate flower. Angel was another thing. I could pull my pants down, show her a mole on my balls and ask,
“Does that look weird to you?”
and she’d drop to her knees and thoroughly inspect it.

Of course, even this made Kami’s face turn beet red, even though she was accustomed to the plethora of freaky shit that had gone down under this roof. “Actually . . . it’s better. And before it was . . . you know . . . amazing. But now . . .
oh my.”

“Really?” It was surprising to admit that I had never done the baby bump thing. I thought I had pretty much covered the entire spectrum when it came to women. Hell, I’d slept with a lesbian.

“Really,” she deadpanned with sincerity.

Somehow, the three of us ended up falling asleep right there on the floor, and when I came to, Kami was gone and Angel was getting dressed for AngelDust’s performance tonight at Dive. AD had become local celebrities, and the place was standing room only when the all-girl band took the stage on Friday and Saturday nights. I was proud of them. Every one of those girls put their all into the music, especially Angel. It was the one thing that brought her pride and purpose, and it showed.

“I’d think you’d be sick of sleeping, considering that’s all you’ve done for three days. You gonna make it tonight?” Angel asked, slinging her guitar case over a shoulder.

I sat up and stretched the soreness out of my joints. How long had I been sleeping? “Yeah. What time is it?”

“Almost 5. Better hurry before CJ tells everyone you contracted Ebola and starts up a GoFundMe to raise money for your medical expenses.”

I chuckled and shook my head. He would totally do something like that.

“All right. I’ll meet you there.”

Just before Angel hit the front entrance, she paused and shot over her shoulder, “Don’t think you’re off the hook about Raven. We
will
talk about it.”

I nodded in response, anything to get her to leave the subject alone, even if only for tonight. I just needed to get through tonight.

I
T WAS FRIDAY NIGHT
, and the unthinkable had happened.

I had the night off.

I always worked Fridays, so I hadn’t thought to check the schedule. But there it was, in black and white. Other than tomorrow night, it looked like I was off for the rest of the weekend, which meant I would be losing some major tips.