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  “Not until closer to Christmas,” I reply to Melissa’s question, breaking out of my thoughts of Thanksgiving revelry. “I’m going to go to some the houses I wasn’t able to get to on Thanksgiving with some gifts. Maybe I should do what the player from Houston does and take a few kids to the Toys “R” Us and let them have a one-minute shopping spree. He’s the shit for doing that. I don’t know how he just picks a few kids though. I wouldn’t be able to say no to all the others. I’m thinking about maybe getting something big for each group home, like an Xbox or something else they wouldn’t otherwise get.” It’s a shame things most kids have and take for granted are such a big deal for those at the boys’ homes.

  “You really are something special, Tanner. Don’t ever forget it. Maybe you should start your own foundation. Then you could reach more kids than just the ones in the nearby communities.” She gives me a sincere smile.

  “That’s a brilliant idea.” It really is. I’ll have to get Davis on this idea as soon as possible. I can’t believe it hasn’t ever crossed my mind before. It would be the perfect time too. With all the publicity I’ve gotten from standing up for the little boy, Jesse, when the asshole from the open practice nearly got him trampled, everyone has been super supportive of my little “missions”.

  We finish up our dinner and wine with our usual banter before I take care of the check, and we make our way to the car to head back to my house. I spend the ride telling Melissa all about how I plan to have Davis look into the possibility of starting a foundation and find out everything involved. Like the true friend she is, Melissa offers to help me any way possible.

  As we head into the house, I tell Melissa to grab a bottle of wine from the wine rack in the dining room while I grab some glasses from the cabinet. We meet back up at the island with said glasses and a bottle of Bordeaux. I open it, pour us each a glass, and set it aside, giving it a few minutes to breathe.

  I notice Melissa staring at the kitchen island. Her cheeks have a slight pink tinge to them that wasn’t there a minute ago, and her breathing has picked up a little bit. I have a feeling she’s remembering the last time we were here and is looking for a repeat of our exploits. She glances from the counter to me and back to the counter again, before pushing off of it and rounding the island in my direction. I know what she’s planning, but my brain still takes a minute to process everything that’s going on.

  Melissa’s mouth molds against mine, and she rubs the tiny tip of her tongue back and forth over the seam of my lips, waiting to gain entrance. I open my mouth, giving her what she wants. She has herself pressed tightly up against my side as she rubs her hand up and down the plains of my stomach. I wait for the arousal to kick in. Hell, I’d even take a twitch of my dick, anything to tell me the lower half of my body is on board with this. I give myself time to adjust. Maybe it’s just this is a new person and my brain is confused—but Melissa isn’t a new person. When she places her hand on my cock and it doesn’t even flinch, I know this isn’t going to work right now.

  I pull away from her and look down at her pouty lips, noticing they don’t look nearly as irresistible as Ashley’s do after a make out session. As irresistible as Ashley’s? Why the hell am I thinking about Ashley’s lips when I have Melissa’s ready-and-willing, non-betraying lips right in front of me? No wonder my dick doesn’t want to join the party.

  “What’s the matter?” Melissa asks, looking up at me with confusion and sounding slightly put out.

  “Honestly, I don’t know.” I shake my head, trying to get my thoughts as far away from Ashley as possible.

  “Is this about her?” She closes her eyes as she mumbles something under her breath I don’t quite catch.

  “No,” I say, scrubbing my hands up and down my face, trying to gain some insight into what the hell is going on. “Yes. I don’t know. Maybe.” I give her honesty because that’s what Melissa and I have always had together: honesty.

  “I’m sorry.” She sounds more remorseful than angry. “You had said you were ready to move on, and tonight had felt like old times. I miss the old us. I guess I just got the wrong impression.” Her eyes are glued to the floor, and her shoulders are slumped. I think she’s embarrassed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Melissa embarrassed before.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for, Melissa. I am ready to move on, but I guess I’m not ready to go there yet. Let’s just focus on making our friendship about more than just sex,” I tell her, pulling her to me for a hug and kissing the top of her head.

  “It’s okay, Tag.” She sighs into my chest. “Our friendship has always more than just sex.”

  I’m slightly alarmed at the way Melissa seems to be hurt, but then again, we’re in uncharted territory here. Neither one of us has ever broken off our arrangement for a relationship and then come back to start things up. I wonder if there’s some type of etiquette for this thing.

  Chapter Two

  Ashley

  The knock on my door startles me from my writing zone. I’m working on an article about some of the upcoming holiday events going on in the city. Christmas here is always beautiful. Watching the decorations being erected on almost every block always puts a smile on my face. I never miss the tree lighting either, which happened two nights ago. I always watch, whether it be in-person or on television. My article about all the festivities shouldn’t even be considered work. Christmas is by far my favorite time of the year, and I love this month. It may also have something to do with the fact my birthday is this coming weekend.

  Setting my laptop down on the coffee table, I get up to answer the door. I don’t know if shocked is the proper word to describe my feelings when I look through the peephole and find Melissa standing on the other side.

  What the hell?

  “Melissa, what are you doing here?” I ask, opening the door.

  “I’d like to have a word with you.” The tone of her voice is cold and harsh.

  Opening the door fully for her to come in, I let out a sigh. I have a feeling this isn’t going to be a friendly visit. By inviting her inside, I’ll save face, and the whole floor won’t hear my business.

  She looks annoyed as she enters, as if she’s the Queen of England and I’m inconveniencing her. I follow her gaze as she looks around with distaste, clearly thinking she’s better than me and Quinn. I wonder if the I-just-sucked-on-a-lemon look is because she’s just figured out that Quinn’s home décor is as high end as hers—if not more.

  “What can I do for you, Melissa?” I ask, moving into the living room.

  She doesn’t follow. She just stands in the entryway, looking at me as if I’m a speck of dirt on her shoe. “It’s more like what can I do for you, Ashley. I’m going to give you some advice and save you some time and heartache. Tanner will never fall for this. You aren’t the first one who’s tried it. There’s a reason Tanner and I have the relationship we do. I understand him in ways no one else can. Why do you think we’ve lasted this long? I was fine letting him play with you, knowing it would never go anywhere. As you can see, I was right. You played your cards too soon. Do yourself a favor and just get rid of that thing. I’ve been by Tanner’s side since you dropped this little bomb on him, and I can assure you, he wants nothing to do with you or your little scheme you call a child.”

  I stand tall, bringing myself up to her level. “Who the hell do you think you are? How dare you come into my home and tell me what to do with my baby?” No way will I let this bitch think I’m beneath her.

  “Well considering you planned on using it to trap Tanner, I have every right. You’re not going to fuck up my life with this baby. I’m sure it’s not his anyway. Do yourself a favor and get rid of it. Try and save some of your dignity. Who do you think he ran to when you pulled this stunt? Me. I’m the only woman he trusts. Just last night, he said what a mistake it was to ever let another woman into his life.” She emphasizes the words last night, obviously trying to rub it in my face she was most likely helping him fuck out his frustration. I
guess it didn’t take him long to go back to his old ways. “It’s been me for almost a decade. It will always be me. Now, thanks to you, he sees it even more. You’ll never stand a chance now.” She sneers.

  “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” I knew it. I’d known from the beginning this bitch wasn’t who Tanner thought she was. Fake fucking twat.

  “I will be the one he chooses in the end, Ashley. We’ve even been discussing him taking over Daddy’s business when he retires. We’re planning a future. Together. And I don’t want your bastard baby destroying my vision. I haven’t stood by patiently all this time for you to come in with your cliché little plan and mess it all up. Get rid of it. Because Tanner will never accept it, and neither will I. You should really think about all that, Ashley.” She turns to head for the door, but I can’t let her leave without making sure she understands nothing will stop me from having this baby, including her threats.

  I let her have it as I approach her. “As much as I wish he wasn’t, Tanner is this baby’s father. There’s nothing you or I can do about it. Get over it.” Fucking bitch.

  She stops to face me once more, giving me an ‘oh please’ look, which vanishes quickly as I continue toward her. Each step I take causes her to take one backward.

  “Oh, and if you were really with Tanner last night, you would know I want nothing to do with that asshole. I’m glad you think I’m competition, but you can have him. I’m too good for him.” I feel proud of the nasty look she’s giving me and decide to share another piece of my mind with her as she backs through the open doorway. “And by the way, desperation doesn’t look good on you, sweetheart. Coming to a pregnant woman’s home and telling her to abort her baby is pathetic. Please tell Tanner not to send any more messengers over. I won’t change my mind. My baby and I are no longer his concern. We don’t accept him, and he’ll never be a part of our lives again!” I want to scream the last part in her face, but I refuse to sink to her level. “Get out of my house, you stupid bitch.” I slam the door in her face, wishing I had gotten a picture of her shocked expression before I did.

  Who the hell do these people think they are? I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried, and I’m a writer! I won’t let her get to me though, because it’s what she wants. I don’t know if I should believe her claims about Tanner, but my gut’s telling me I should. Of course, he has run right back to her. And why wouldn’t he? He thinks the sun shines out of her ass and has no clue what a nasty snake she really is. If he’s going to be with her from now on, I’m glad I’ve made the decision to keep him as far away from my baby as possible. I don’t need that bitch anywhere near the baby either. I can only imagine the horrible things she would do and say the minute Tanner turned his back. No, thank you! Those two really deserve each other after all. They both hide their true colors well. Lucky for me, I seem to be able to bring the truth out.

  I turn on the stereo and scan until I reach the local radio station that plays Christmas music twenty-four seven. No one can be in a foul mood when Christmas music is playing; it’s truly impossible. Then I get back to my writing, picking up where I’d left off in my article and immersing myself in the land of Christmas. I stay there until I finally glance at the clock and realize it’s time to shower and get ready for my shift at my new second job. I’m the new waitress at a local sports bar called Legends.

  After Tanner ripped out my heart, I went looking for a second job immediately, and I was hired on the spot. For obvious reasons, a sports bar isn’t exactly an ideal work environment for me, but they were the only place I found hiring short-term and willing to let me stay on past the holidays. I finished my training last week, and this is going to be my first night on my own. Everyone there has been great so far, and they’re aware I’m pregnant. Marshall, the owner, said I’m a perfect fit for right now since I won’t be able to work at a bar for very long. They only need temporary help because of the extra rush from the Jets having a great season. Marshall also said after a while, I’ll be a liability because of the nature of the job, so at least he won’t feel bad letting me go in a few months. I’m set to stay through March Madness, and then I’m leaving. He did tell me, if things work out and I like it there, when he needs help here and there in the future, I’ll be his go-to girl.

  I’ll be working four to five shifts a week for the time being, three of which are during football games—Thursday nights, Sunday afternoons or nights, and Monday nights. I’m doing Fridays too since it’s a busy night in Hoboken. The bar is on the opposite side of the city from my condo, but it’s only a ten-minute drive with no traffic.

  I’m stoked at the possibility of squirreling away a decent chunk of money each week between my four shifts. Bella, the girl who trained me, also told me to take advantage of Thursdays while I can because after football season, they’re kind of dead. Apparently not all the cable companies carry the channel the Thursday night games are on, so anyone who doesn’t have the channel and wants to watch them heads out to local bars. That’s the only thing shitty thing about this job: football. How can I escape Tanner when four times a week, I’m hearing all about him on five different big-screen televisions? He’s everywhere.

  I hear the door slam just as I turn off the hair dryer, alerting me my darling best friend, Quinn, is home.

  “Ash?” she yells from the entryway.

  “In my bathroom.”

  “What’s up, slut?” she asks when she reaches the doorway between my bedroom and the bathroom.

  “Such a lovely greeting, my dear.” I smile at her.

  “Blow me, bitch. How was your day?” She plops herself down on the closed toilet and grabs her copy of Cosmo off my counter.

  “Fine, until bitch-face Melissa showed up to inform me it’ll be best for everyone if I kill my baby,” I tell her, rolling my eyes as I wrap a section of hair around my curling wand.

  “Shut the fuck up. No, she didn’t!” Quinn actually looks shocked.

  “Yup.” I unwind my hair from the wand and turn toward Quinn, giving her my full attention. “She also informed me she and Tanner were together last night, discussing their future, and my baby doesn’t fit into it. Oh! And she also admitted she’s totally in love with him and swears they’ll wind up together now that I’ve ‘played my cards too soon,’” I explain, making air quotes.

  “Fake fucking twat,” she says.

  I can’t help but crack up, laughing so hard, my eyes tear up.

  Quinn gives me a weird look, as though she doesn’t understand my reaction. “Not that I don’t love seeing you laugh like this, but care to share what’s so funny?”

  “I called her the same thing—a fake fucking twat,” I say while I settle myself down from my laughing fit.

  “No, you didn’t!” She gasps.

  “Well, not to her face, but I did in my mind. When I figured out she was basically telling me what I knew all along, my first thought was ‘fake fucking twat.’” I pick my curling wand back up and finish my hair for work.

  “Well, she is. She’s got some balls, though. Might even give mine a run for their money,” she says, going back to flipping through the magazine.

  I stop, curling wand midair and give Quinn’s reflection a pissy look in the mirror. “Who cares about how big her balls are?” I snap before proceeding to replay every detail of the conversation back to her.

  “Good for you, bitch. It’s about time you started hardening your spine. You’re going to need to make it bulletproof soon,” she says with a sad look in her eyes. We both know she’s right though. The road ahead isn’t going to be easy, and I know people are going to be criticizing me left and right, the same way they do to every other single mom out there.

  I smile at Quinn to let her know it’s okay. I’m prepared for it.

  “So, tonight’s your first shift by yourself, huh?” she asks with her nose still in her damn magazine. That thing is like Quinn’s Bible.

  “Yup. And Bella said you can make a killing on a busy Friday night. I’m rea
lly hoping it’s packed tonight.”

  “Me too. You better use your ass to make a few extra dollars before it gets all fat on you.” She chuckles.

  “Fuck you, bitch. My ass will not get fat.” I turn around, checking out my ass in the mirror, and toss her with a nasty look in the process. “You’re just jealous my ass now looks better than yours.”

  “Yeah, sure. That’s what all preggos say before they get as big as a house. You’re lucky the bar has a lax dress code. You’re not going to fit into those jeans much longer.” She laughs again, sounding way too much like a hyena. Glad she finds herself so funny.

  “Go fuck yourself, Quinn. I’m going to look amazing and that’s a really mean thing to say to your hormonal, emotionally vulnerable best friend. You’re lucky I’m controlling my urge to slap that stupid smirk off your face. I know you’re just trying to get a rise out of me so beat it. I need to finish getting ready for work, slutbag.” I growl at her.

  She leaves the bathroom, laughing to herself but not before slapping my ass with her stupid magazine. Some best friend she is.

  I plop onto my bed, exhausted. Tonight was grueling but oh so worth it. I didn’t sit down once from the minute my shift started at seven until the bar closed at two—seven straight hours of non-stop running. The three hundred and twenty dollars in my pocket make it more than worth it. Bella hadn’t been kidding when she’d said you can kill it on Fridays. I’m sure it wouldn’t have been as bad if I hadn’t already been tired simply from being pregnant, but I won’t complain—not out loud anyway.