Page 11 of Pumped

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. Um, okay, I’m on my way.” I pause a beat before continuing. “You’ll stay until I get there, right?”

“Yes, I’ll stay,” Adeline says like I’m the dumbest person in the world. But I don’t know how babysitters fucking work, okay?

“’Kay, I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

She sighs and her breath blows directly into the phone’s mic. “Fine. Bye.”

The call disconnects so abruptly, I don’t realize it’s dead for a moment. Not until the cutie who’s been waiting for me speaks.

“You’re leaving?” His arms are crossed over his chest, hip thrust out to the side. He’s giving me the stinkiest of stink eyes.

“I think so?” I’m still not entirely sure what just happened and a part of me wonders if I can bring him with me. Like, maybe Eden and Jeremy are just running late, and they’ll show up by the time I get there, and I can still salvage the evening.

But the cutie rolls his eyes hard enough to out-roll Adeline. “Figures. I always pick the wrong ones.” He stalks back toward the club, leaving me standing on the sidewalk, alone and cold.

My buzz is gone, but my head isn’t quite on straight just yet. Where the fuck are Eden and Jeremy? And why the fuck aren’t they picking up their phones?

I try Eden’s cell on the way over to their house. It goes directly to voicemail. I try Jeremy’s. Same thing. My thumb hovers above a number labeled “The Asshat” in my phone.

Owen.

He probably knows what’s going on. And even if he didn’t, he’d know what to do. He’s so “responsible” and “reliable” and really goddamn boring.

I can imagine it already. The condescending voice. The irritated expression. He’ll barge in and take over, leaving me standing on the sidelines like some kind of loser.

No. I lock my phone. I don’t need to give Owen any more ammunition. He already thinks I’m useless, I don’t want to prove it to him by calling him for help. I’m an adult. I’m resourceful. I can take care of this myself.

Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? Maybe both their phones ran out of battery. Totally weird, but it could happen. Ivy’s probably asleep by now. I’ll just check in on her and then crash on their couch until they get home. It can’t be more than a few hours, right? They’ll be back by morning, for sure. Everything’s fine.

A teenage girl, who I assume is Adeline, is waiting in the foyer when I get out of the rideshare. She opens the door as I jog up the stoop and starts talking before I can even say hello.

“I tried Eden and Jeremy again, but nothing. I fed Ivy dinner, helped her with her bath, and got her into bed. She woke up once, then fell asleep again without any trouble. Questions?” She already has her coat on and one foot out the door.

She rattled all of that off so fast, I could barely follow her. But I’m pretty sure I caught the important stuff—Ivy’s in bed, I just have to stick around until Eden and Jeremy get back. “Uh… I don’t think so?”

“Good. Eden can Venmo me when they get home. Bye.” She skips down the steps and disappears into the night before I can offer to get her a car to take her home.

I’m left holding the door, blinking at the empty street in front of the house. A gust of cold air rushes in, knocking me out of my daze. Quickly, I close the front door and lock it, then I head upstairs to check on Ivy. Her bedroom is on the second floor, along with Eden and Jeremy’s home office.

I crack open her door. The heavy shades are drawn, blocking out the night lights of the city, but a softly glowing lamp sits in the far corner. The pink walls are decorated with rainbows and unicorns. Gauzy fabric hangs from the ceiling above her bed in a canopy.

Ivy is nothing more than a little lump in the middle of the mattress, her blonde hair spread in a halo on the pillow. She’s hugging Zuzi, her favorite squishmallow, a pink unicorn with a gold horn. I got it for her a couple years ago and she takes it with her everywhere. Owen’s gotten her other plushies since but she always goes back to my unicorn.

Take that, Owen.

My chest warms at seeing my niece sleeping so soundly. She’s the reason I decided to give up my nomadic van life out west and settle in New York instead. I hadn’t planned to initially, but after a few visits when she was a baby, I realized how much I was missing. Kids grow so fast at her age and FaceTime just doesn’t cut it.

So I sold off Betsy, my van, couch-surfed for a few months, then landed at Mars Fitness as a personal trainer. I run their classes, mostly boot camps like the one modeled after the training FBI agents have to take. And recently, a super dope skipping class. I’m working on a drumming class based on traditional Japanese drumming and yoga stability balls. I really want to do goat yoga, but my bosses, Beau and Gavin, won’t let me bring goats into the gym. Shame.

Quietly, I close Ivy’s door and cross the hall to the home office. Both Eden and Jeremy have desks in here. But there’s also a futon against the far wall.

It takes a bit of wrangling, but once the futon’s flat, I toe off my shoes and collapse face-first onto the cushions. I’m out before my head hits the throw pillow.

CHAPTER

FOUR

OWEN

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