Not About Love (This Love Book 2) (28 page)

At the mention of Boyd, I laughed. “His name is Boyd. You’re right, he does not like you. He didn’t want me to keep working on this case.”

“You’re pregnant with his child, aren’t you?”

I stared at him, confused. I had never mentioned my pregnancy to him or Nars.

“How…?”

“You never had a drink when we ate together, and you’re wearing this.” He pointed at my acupressure wristband. “My wife had to wear that during her second pregnancy. She was throwing up every day. How far along are you?”

“About four months.”

“Are you excited?” he asked with a smile.

“Scared.” I laughed.

“You’ll be a great mom.”

“Thanks.” I looked down at my hands on the table and smiled. He took my hands in his own and that was when I looked outside the bar. I saw Boyd staring at us through the window, just a few feet away.

Crap.

“Boyd!” I yelled as I disentangled myself from Shane’s hold.

Our eyes met for a second, and then he was gone.
Shit
. Shane and I had been holding hands, and he had been cupping my face until a minute ago. It looked bad, even if it wasn’t like that. It wasn’t a rekindling of any kind, just me getting some closure after so many years, but I knew Boyd well enough to fear that his impulsiveness had gotten the best of him. He wasn’t seeing things clearly. I had to talk to him.

I made my way out to the street as fast as I could, but he was already several feet ahead of me. I kept following him, calling his name, but lost him in the colorful crowd of the
Bloemenmarkt
, Amsterdam’s floating flower market.

I called his cell phone, but he didn’t pick up. I headed home, hoping to see him there, but Hedwig told me she hadn’t seen him all morning.

In the meantime, Shane had called twice and sent a text message.

Knock it off, Shane.

Heading to the airport. Hope everything is okay with the hipster.

Not quite. Things were not okay, and I wished he would stop calling him that. He might have looked like a hipster, but that was an empty word when used to describe Boyd.

He was so much more than that.

He had a beautiful soul. He was a hard worker. He was a doer. He cared about his family and friends. He had changed his life around for our baby.

He was funny and sexy, and he made me happy in so many ways.

The warm ache spreading through my chest forced me to admit I cared for him.

I love him
.

I let out a sigh.
Shit.
I was in love with him. Sure, we were having a baby, but I hadn’t expected to fall for him…at least not so soon. We had only been living together for a couple months. We weren’t a real couple. We weren’t
in love
.

Well, I was pretty sure he didn’t love me, especially not now that he’d just caught me all cozy with my ex-boyfriend.

God, it was all so stupid.

It was just a stupid misunderstanding, but I had seen the look in his eyes and I knew…I knew he was suspecting the worst. I needed to talk to him and explain. I called him again, but he didn’t answer. I called the pancake house and asked Helga to let me know if he showed up there.

I texted him a few times, trying to explain. He read my messages, but never replied. I called him again but he didn’t answer.

Fuck this
.

My frustration became anger. I wasn’t going to play some stupid cat and mouse game with him. I was going to talk to him whenever he decided to act like a grown up and pick up my calls. I wasn’t going to sit around and wait for him to get off his high horse. I packed my bag and went to my prenatal yoga class.

* * *

When I got back, I found him stretched out across the kitchen island. Next to him were a bottle of whiskey and an empty glass.

He was snoring.

I almost wanted to laugh—almost.

I touched his bicep gently, trying to wake him up.

Stupid metrosexual mountain man.

He stirred, and when his eyes opened, he smiled at me.

I smiled back, hoping maybe the alcohol or my texts had washed away the whole incident. For a second, I believed everything was going to be okay.

It wasn’t.

“There she is. There’s my baby mama,” he slurred.
Oh, man.
He was
super
drunk.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“I’m…p-perfect.” He stretched his arms out and gave me a sardonic smile. I winced.

“Boyd…you know nothing happened between me and Shane, right? You just caught us at a bad time, and you probably misunderstood. I tried to come after you. I called you. I was going to explain—”

“Sure you were,” he mocked me. “I saw the two of you together, all
cozy
. Do you think I’m blind, Red? Or stupid?” His eyes widened, and he stood up a little too quickly for his inebriated state. He lost his footing but quickly recovered, grabbing the edge of the kitchen island. He tried to straighten himself up, slowly, and I tried to help him, but he pushed me away.

“What the hell are you talking about? I texted you to come there to celebrate. Why would I do that if I was trying to sneak behind your back?” I asked.

“That’s it!” he said, continuing his rambling. He pointed a finger at me. “You think I’m stupid. You think I really can’t see the way Shane looks at you or the way you smile at him. You still have feelings for him, admit it!” He raised his voice, and I narrowed my eyes at him. I locked my jaw, trying to calm myself down. I knew all too well I was able to spit out the cruelest words when I was angry. I waited a few seconds, but the words came out of my mouth anyway, against my better judgement.

“You’re being ridiculous! When you saw us holding hands we were talking about the baby!
Our baby!
”

“Awww yeah! I’m sure you wish it was his kid instead of mine.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Boyd? How much did you have to drink, because, quite frankly, this is the biggest load of shit I’ve ever heard. I’m not going to stand here and listen to you run your mouth like that.” I walked away from him, but he grabbed my arm and turned me around. He reeked of alcohol and didn’t look at all like the funny, sexy guy I knew him to be. The look in his eyes was one I had never seen before, cold and heartless. He stared at me as if he hated my guts. I didn’t like what I was seeing. I didn’t like this side of him at all.

“No, you are going to listen to me,” he said in a low growl. He held my arm so tight, I couldn’t get out of his hold, as much as I tried. He pressed his fingers into my skin even harder.

“Stop it! You’re hurting me.” His eyes widened, and for a moment he seemed to snap out of his drunken state. Our eyes locked and I tried to find a glimpse of the man I knew, but he slipped back into his drunken idiocy, eyes narrowed, lips in a taut pout, finger pointed at me.

“You…you, Red, are a fucking liar! I
know
what I saw!” he yelled.

“You need to go take a shower; maybe that will clear your fucking head. You’re drunk, and you’ve let your imagination run wild on a fucking stupid misunderstanding! Snap out of it!”

He grunted and lowered his arms to his sides, his fists bunched up. He looked…defeated. He was breathing heavily, his eyes fixed on the floor. For a moment, I was able to look past the drunk, hateful Boyd and I saw the younger man who had suffered a heartbreak bigger than mine.

With caution, I took a couple steps in his direction, and I placed my hands on his chest. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I couldn’t believe I was about to put all my cards on the table. I took his face in my hands and locked eyes with him.

The angry beast seemed momentarily subdued. It was probably the worst time to say it, but I had to try. I had to pull him out of his black hole.

“I want you. I’ve wanted you for a long time, and I’m sick of hiding it. I care for you.” I took a deep breath. “I love you, Boyd Rivers, and the fact that you think I want Shane makes me sick. I love
you,
and it makes me angry that you can’t
see
it.”

He stared at me, petrified. He let out a shallow breath and then looked away. When he glanced back in my direction, I searched for a trace of the madness the alcohol had brought on. He seemed calmer, although his chest heaved under my hands.

My words had shocked him, clearly. I felt like a ringleader trying to tame a lion. I knew it was the worst time to say what I felt, but at least it stopped him from acting like a megalomaniac.

Still, I wanted him to say something…kiss me, at least. Instead, my words had left him dumbfounded.
Well, look at that.
Now I felt like the caged beast ready to snarl. I couldn’t help it.

“Did Portia fuck you up so much you can’t see when a person truly cares for you?” He flinched when I said her name, and I regretted every word I’d said that night, especially the L word. Things were much worse than I’d thought. Not only was I carrying this man’s baby, but as much as he cared for me, there was part of him that was still not over what had happened so many years ago.

“This has nothing to do with me and Shane. This is all about you and your trust issues.” I pointed my finger at him, angry and frustrated by his ridiculous behavior. “Apparently, it doesn’t matter how handsome, important, and successful you’ve become. It doesn’t matter how many women you’ve seduced through the years—you still feel like that naïve twenty-two-year-old who got cheated on. You’re not that young man any more, Boyd.”

There was so much more I wanted to say. It felt like an unstoppable stream of thoughts and feelings. My mind was unraveling, and my heart was beating erratically against my ribcage. I wanted to talk some sense into him, wanted to tell him and make him understand everything I thought to be true.

We needed to work on a real relationship. We needed to try harder, because this baby deserved a loving family. It would have been different if we’d hated each other’s guts, but Boyd and I had chemistry. We were good together. We worked. We had gone from being strangers to living together. The last two months had been so good. He was acting like a pigheaded asshole at the moment, but if I could make him reason…if only I could make him see…I knew we had a chance. Luckily, not even the crazy-ass pregnancy hormones could make me say all those words aloud, and as I went over my own thoughts, I hardly recognized myself.

What had happened to the cynical, practical, take-no-prisoners attorney?

What had gotten into me? I was turning into a pile of mush.

Thanks a lot, baby.

I WOKE UP WITH THE
biggest headache of my life. I lay in the bed for another hour at least, dozing on and off, fighting the urge to get up. My head was pounding as it was, and it was going to feel even worse as soon as my feet touched the floor. As I opened my eyes, I noticed I was alone in bed. The sun shined brighter than it usually did in that room, which meant it was probably later than when I usually got up.

I searched for my phone and found it on the bedside table, plugged into the charger. I stared at the screen: it was ten past twelve. As I looked at my phone, I slowly started to remember how I’d gotten so drunk.

I got a flashback of the day before, when I’d caught Ally and Shane getting cozy in a restaurant. Me, getting wasted. Angry. Feeling betrayed. Hurt.

I got up and used the restroom as my head pounded and the memories kept coming back. I remembered arguing with Ally, lashing out at her, pulling her arm…
fuck.
I had been a total ass. I remembered more details of our conversation…Portia’s name coming up in passing…and Ally saying that she
loved me
. Had she really said that? Had she said that she loved
me
?

I washed my face, trying to wake up. I noticed the bed in the guest room was undone.
She didn’t sleep
next to me, and I couldn’t blame her, not after the way I’d talked to her. The apartment was quiet; she wasn’t around. I found some ibuprofen on the kitchen island with a glass of water next to it.

She had probably been the one to plug in my phone, too. I had been a total ass. My mama would have been so ashamed.