Page 97 of Illicit

“You’re late. We’ve only been waiting for two hours. Can you get in the house and shut the door? It’s hot. Some of us are creating brand new humans. We’re tired and want to get this over with.”

That last one was Sammie.

But it’s the other woman creating a human who beams at us and wraps her arms around me quickly so she can move onto Rocco.

“You’re home! I missed you so much. I’m sorry I missed your graduation.” Landyn goes on and on before letting me go so she can wrap her arms around Rocco. “I didn’t think this day would ever arrive. Quite literally the best day ever. I might cry.”

Rocco hugs her back as best he can while carrying my things. “Don’t cry. That’s got to be some bad juju for my godchild.”

Landyn beams.

Sammie rolls her eyes.

My mom moves in and takes Landyn’s place. “You’re home. You’re both home. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this happy.”

When she lets me go, I realize the party isn’t small.

It’s not just Brax and Landyn. Micah, Evie, King, and Goldie and all their kids are here too.

Everyone is here.

Mom juts her arms high in the air. “It’s a graduation party slash welcome home party slash birthday parties since you both turn another year older in the next couple weeks. With two babies on the way, I figure if we can get everyone together once to celebrate everything, all the better.”

“Three birds, one stone,” Rocco states. “Efficient, Annette. I like it.” Then he turns to me. “Will you be here when you turn twenty-three, or will you have to celebrate by yourself in the Big Apple?”

I open my mouth to answer, when really, I’d rather kick him in the shin, but my dad interjects. And he does it with a margarita. “Your favorite. We couldn’t stay long enough to celebrate, but this is your party. Drink up, food is in the kitchen, and the table is set. Let’s eat!”

“I’m starving,” Sammie spouts.

I turn to my sister and take her in. Sammie is taller than me with more curves when she’s not pregnant than I could ever hope for. My mom always said it wasn’t our height that made us completely different children, it was what’s on the inside.

I haven’t seen Sammie in months. As grumpy as she is, she’s beautiful. She might be frowning, but she’s doing it while glowing. And her hair might be thrown into a messy bun, but it shines bright. And if someone saw her from the back, you’d never know she was about to give birth. She’s all belly. Her dress is a bodycon from two years ago.

I move into my sister and cup her swollen belly in my hands. “You look beautiful. Just beautiful.”

She chomps a bite from the stalk of celery she’s holding. “That’s good to know, because shit’s about to get ugly.”

Evie gives me a hug before turning to Sammie. “It won’t be ugly. It will be beautiful. At least, that’s how you’ll look back on it.”

Sammie rolls her eyes. “I’m about to push a watermelon out of a bagel. If that’s beautiful, then I have zero desire to be even remotely cute.” She holds her hand up and makes an O with her fingers. “Zero!”

Well, Sammie has officially ruined bagels for life. Even thinking about a schmear of cream cheese makes me want to gag.

Evie looks contrite as she bites her lip, but she doesn’t try to convince Sammie that anything else is beautiful.

Goldie comes in, wraps her arm around Sammie’s shoulders, but turns to me. “If you want to work while you’re home, I’ll always need you at The Pink. Consider it an open offer.”

I worked at The Pink the first summer I was home from college. It’s an enormous mansion and venue on Biscayne Bay, and it’s all Goldie’s. I was a server for parties one summer. It was a great job.

“Thanks, Goldie. I’ll see if I have time before I have to leave. I’ve been saving for my place in New York. It will be smaller than the studio I just moved out of but four times the rent.”

“And to think she could live here,” Mom butts in. “I’m just saying.”

“Well, look at that,” Evie says and motions across the room to the men. “Rocco has been in town approximately two-point-three minutes and the guys are already monopolizing him and talking shop.”

I’m grateful for the excuse to gaze across the room. Rocco is holding a beer like the rest of the guys, but they don’t look like they’re talking about work. None of them look like they’re enjoying their topic of conversation. And I’ve been around them long enough, when they talk DEA, they eat that up. They could talk about cases day and night.

This is not that.

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