While We Waited (The Reed Brothers #8) (10 page)

“Eww! Take it. Take it
now
.”

Tag laughs as he holds out his arms, and I pass Benji over. I get up to go and change. “A little puke won’t hurt you!” he calls to my back.

But what worries me more than anything isn’t the fact that I just got puked on. It’s the fact that I don’t mind nearly as much as I should.

Tag

I pace the floor with Benji in my arms. I have no idea what to do with him. He’s hot and his cheeks are rosy and he’s fretful. I haven’t known him that long, but he’s never been this fretful before. I bounce him gently on my shoulder and he just cries and cries. He won’t take a bottle, and he doesn’t need a clean diaper. I already checked.

Wren has been gone all night. I assume she’s out with the others, since no one is here but me. I’m all alone, my son is sick, and I have no idea what to do with him.

Suddenly, the front door opens and Fin tumbles into the apartment. She has a man with her, and he has his hand on her ass. She freezes when she sees me. He doesn’t. He spins her toward him so he can cover her mouth with his.

Rage clouds the corners of my vision. It’s swift and unexpected and I have no idea where it came from. It startles the crap out of me.

The guy who has his hand under her shirt freezes when she covers his hand with hers. “Stop,” she hisses. She lifts his hand from beneath her clothes and presses it away. He grimaces and pushes back. She steps away and adjusts her clothing. “Hi,” she says quietly to me. “What’s wrong?”

I look down at Benji. “I have no idea. He won’t stop crying.” I look toward her for help, but she’s staring at Benji, her brow puckered.

“Who’s this, Finch?” the guy asks.

“Shh!” she hisses at him.

He opens his mouth to speak again and she points to the door.

“You may go,” she says.

“What?” he croaks.

“
Out
,” she says. She walks to the door, holds it open wide, and she makes a quick “move along” motion with her hand. He hangs his head, clenches his jaw, and then squares his shoulders and leaves.

He turns back at the last moment. “Call me?” he says.

She slams the door in his face.

Benji’s cries grow even louder. “I don’t know what to do,” I say.

“Did you take his temperature?”

“I don’t have a thermometer.”

“Where’s his stuff?”

I point toward my room. As I pace back and forth, surely wearing a groove in the carpet, she goes into my room and comes back out with his diaper bag over her shoulder.

“Let’s go,” she says impatiently. She flaps her hands in the air.

“Where?”

“We’re taking the offspring to the hospital, dummy.” She motions me forward again. “Move it.”

My heart leaps into my throat. “You think he needs to go to the hospital?”

“I have no idea what he needs,” she says impatiently. She picks up his carrier and I put him in it.

He doesn’t stop screaming. He cries all the way down the hallway and into the elevator, and his sobs turn into sniffles as we get in the cab. He drifts off to sleep, but it only lasts for a moment. Then he cries again.

“I’ve never felt quite so helpless,” I say. I rub the top of his downy little head. He’s so beautiful. And I can’t even take care of him.

“They’ll get him all fixed up at the hospital,” she assures me. His car seat is in the middle of the back seat, and she’s on one side while I’m on the other.

“They have to see him there even if I don’t have money, right?” I ask quietly. My gut lurches. I hate even asking the question because saying it out loud is like affirming all the bad things my uncle told me my whole life.

I would never amount to anything.

No one could trust me.

No one can count on me.

I can’t even take care of my son.

I am nothing.

“They’ll see him,” she says. She lets Benji wrap his tiny little fist around her finger. “One way or the other,” she whispers, “they’ll see him.”

I take a breath and lay my head back against the seat of the cab.

“It’s probably nothing,” she says quietly.

“You really think so?” I whisper, more to myself than to her.

“Of course.” She smiles at me and covers my hand with hers on top of Benji’s belly. “Do you know where your sisters are?” She takes out her phone and starts to tap.

“No, I thought they might be with you.”

“I left early to come back to the apartment.”

Her face colors ever so slightly and she doesn’t look at me. She left them to come back to the apartment
with a man
.

“Was that your boyfriend?” I know it’s not. But I want to hear about it. It’ll take my mind off Benji.

She snorts. “God, no.”

“Who was he?”

She shrugs. “Just a guy.”

“Just a guy?”

She nods. “Just a guy.”

“Your date?”

She shakes her head and heaves a sigh. “Someone I met tonight.”

“You brought a guy home you just met?” I blurt out. I hate it as soon as it comes out of my mouth.

“Yes. Don’t judge.”

“Why?”

She finally looks at me. Her brow furrows. “Why what?”

“Why did you bring home a guy you just met? And why were his hands all over you, if you just met him?”

“Because you spent two months inside my fucking head, Tag. And now you’re back and I’m ready to move on. So let me move on, will you?” Her eyes stare into mine and I can feel an electric hum move between us like a live wire.

“Oh,” I say. “I see.”

“Don’t judge,” she warns.

I hold up my hands in surrender. “I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. Stop it.” Her voice is biting and cold all of a sudden.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“No, really–” But in my head, I am. I am. I really am. And I hate that I am. I don’t want her to want anyone else. I want her to be mine.

She startles me when she grabs my chin and turns my face toward hers. “I like to have sex, Tag. Get over it.”

I bristle.

“It’s perfectly all right for a woman to like to fuck men. I like sex. I don’t need to defend it, particularly not to you, seeing as how you couldn’t resist me either.” She lets my face go, but she doesn’t stop looking into my eyes. “Don’t judge,” she says quietly.

“I wasn’t judging,” I say again. I groan inwardly. I shouldn’t say this out loud, but I will. I can’t help it. “I’m…jealous.” I squeeze my eyes shut tightly.

She startles. “Why?”

I might as well be honest. “It bothers me.”

“What bothers you about it?” Her words drip venom and ice.

I choose my words with care. “Because once will never be enough.”

The cab stops at the emergency room entrance and I get out, taking Benji’s car seat with me. She grabs the base and follows me into the hospital. We go to the desk, and very quickly they have us in triage and then they take Benji from me completely, promising that it’ll only be a moment and I’ll be with him again.

He’s gone, and I’m left with Finny and she’s looking at me like I’m going to shatter. And I think I might. But she’s also looking at me with a question in her eyes. And I don’t know the answer. I know nothing except that I’m scared senseless.

“Come on.” She takes my hand and pulls me toward the bathroom. She glances furtively left and right and then pulls me inside. “Sixty seconds,” she says.

She opens her arms to me and I don’t even think before I pull her against me. I need this. I need her. I need for someone to take away the helpless feeling I have.

This time when I hold her, my dick doesn’t get hard. But I do use her. I use her warmth and her softness and I listen to her sweet voice as she counts to sixty. It’s over too soon. She steps back from me and I’m at a loss.

“Let’s go wait for Benji,” she says. She threads her fingers through mine.

“I wasn’t judging,” I say quietly as we sit side by side in the waiting area.

She sighs. “Okay.”

“I really wasn’t. I was thinking that I can understand why you get so many flowers.”

Her brow puckers. “What?”

“Because you’re pretty awesome,” I say quietly. “If you were all the way mine, I wouldn’t want to give you up either.”

She strokes a hand up her arm when goose flesh erupts. “I don’t do relationships.”

“I don’t do one-nighters.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’re really good friends, isn’t it?” she says.

The nurse comes out and calls my name. We get up and walk to her. “Are you the mother?” she asks Fin.

Fin starts to shake her head but I say, “Yes.” I don’t want to go back there alone. Not right now. I want her with me to soften the blow of whatever is wrong with Benji. I can’t lose Benji. And I need Fin to help make it all right.

I want to explore why sixty seconds holding Fin was better than a single moment I ever spent with Julia, but I can’t do it right now. Now I have to find out what’s wrong with my son. When he’s better, I’ll deal with the rest.

Finch

He looks absolutely helpless. Tag, I mean. Not Benji. Benji actually looks comfortable. He’s not crying right this second. They hooked him up to IVs and gave him some medicine to bring down his fever. It was just an infection. A simple one. Antibiotics should clear it up. They did a bunch of blood work and pronounced him okay.

Tag is a little bit more of a problem.

“Would you stop pacing?” I say.

“I’m not pacing,” he argues. But he doesn’t stop walking.

“Okay, then stop walking briskly back and forth. You’re causing a draft.”

He stops and stares down into the bassinette. “In my head, I’m trying to plan,” he says quietly.

“Plan for what?”

He shrugs. “Plan for his life. Plan to take care of him. Plan to be a good father who can fulfill his needs. I don’t even have a job, Finny.” He heaves a sigh and then scrubs the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“It’s late,” I say. “You can think about all that tomorrow.”

“I have to find a job.”

“Tomorrow.”

“And someone to watch him while I work.”

“Dude, you have two sisters and they have three sisters and a mother. I think you’ll be covered.”

He snorts. “I can’t ask my family to watch him. I can’t keep taking advantage.” He grips the edge of the bassinette so tightly that his knuckles turn white. “Don’t you see?” he bites out. “What if I caused this?”

“What do you mean?”

He stands there with his eyes closed tightly. “I was angry when I came back from my mission trip and found out Julia didn’t want to be with me anymore. I did some things I regret. Said some things I regret.”

“To her?” She probably deserved it.

“To God,” he says. “I said it to God.”

Oh. Now I get it. “And you think God’s mad and he’s punishing you?”

“I think I wasn’t grateful for the gifts I’ve been given, yes.”

“Bullshit.”

His head jerks up. “What?”

“Bullshit,” I say again. I hold up my hands when he starts to speak. “Oh, wait, I cursed. You think something terrible is going to happen to me?”

“That’s not amusing.”

“When I’m trying to make you laugh, you’ll know it.”

“I’m just worried that my doubts could cause a ripple effect,” he says quietly.

“You still have faith, right?” I don’t fully understand faith. Not now. But I respect the fact that he has it.

He nods. “Of course.” He winces. “But I was angry. And I said some things I shouldn’t have.”

“So, unsay them,” I tell him with a shrug.

He looks confused. “What?”

“God’s not a vengeful dude, dumbass. He’s benevolent. He’s all-knowing, too, so he knows your heart. Unsay whatever it is you said and you can be done with it.”

“You believe in God?” he asks me. He stares into my eyes.

I drag my finger up and down a crack in the wall. “I used to spend a lot of time with the preacher and his wife in our small town. When my mom would go off the deep end, they took me home with them. So, yes, I know who God is.”

“Will you think I’m stupid if I believe?” He watches my face closely.

“Dude, I already think you’re stupid.”

He grins. “When everything else was taken from me, my faith sustained me. If I abandon it, I feel like I’ll be abandoning a part of myself.”

I shrug. “So don’t.” My phone chimes and I look down at it. “Your sisters are on the way.” I get up from where I’m sitting. “I should probably go.”

“Don’t,” he says quickly.

“What?”

“Don’t go. Please.” He tilts his head and smiles at me. “
Please
,” he says again.