Page 21 of Breathless

“Not now, Green. Weren’t we talking about violence in television and writers with strange fetishes?”

“Yeah, not now, Green,” Jake echoed, ignoring her attempt at deflection. “It’ll be better to have this conversation in a few months. When the real reason she came back early is obvious to anyone with eyes.”

Fiona stiffened, glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention to this end of the bar. “It’s only been two weeks. Wyatt is just now getting to the point where he can take a shower without needing a breathing treatment and a nap. And he and Thoreau are finally able to be in the same room without snapping at each other.”

“They snap in texts,” Jake corrected. “But you’re right, they’re not physically snapping at each other.”

That didn’t mean they’d decided to be friends. No one had been more surprised than Fiona was when Thoreau volunteered the Wayne-plex for Wyatt’s recovery. Or more shocked that Wyatt accepted. She’d been so tired at that point, and everyone else had seemed so relieved, that she hadn’t taken the time to consider what it meant.

Both of them. Together under the same roof. She and Thoreau taking turns nagging Wyatt about his medicine and taking him to the doctor. All three of them arguing about dinner and sharing a bathroom. All three of them going commando while their underwear shared a spin cycle in the washing machine.

It was heaven. It was torture. It was almost perfect, and she didn’t want it to end.

She shook her head. “Now is not the time to throw a live grenade into the mix.”

“A baby is not a grenade, Fiona,” JD scoffed, pushing his longish hair out of his face impatiently and adjusting his glasses. “It’s a gift. You know that better than anyone.”

She folded her elbows onto the bar and pressed her forehead against the cool wood. “I do know that. Of course I know that.” She looked up at him. “But these last few weeks I’ve seen hints of how great it could be to have them both right there with me. Even if they are texting passive aggressively. It won’t last. It can’t, and I know that. Wyatt would never be okay with this for the long haul and I have—well, you know what I have. I just wanted to enjoy it while I could without adding any complications. Is that so horrible?”

“You don’t know that it can’t last. You’ve just decided it can’t. That’s not the same thing. And you’re making it a self-fulfilling prophecy because you haven’t given Wyatt and Thoreau the whole carrot.”

Fiona took a breath and counted to ten. “JD, I love you and your giant brain, but if you give me the carrot and stick speech again, I might ban you from the pub forever.”

“The whole carrot,” he repeated stubbornly. “And in this scenario, the carrot is the truth and you’re still giving them the stick. You have a master’s degree in psychology. I know you understand the importance of communication.”

Fiona’s throat tightened at the idea of having a conversation like that with Wyatt and Thoreau. Total honesty.

He was right. If anyone had asked for her advice, she would have said the same thing. If they wanted their relationship to stand a chance, they all had to be honest and up front about everything.

Who she was now—Fiona Howard, perennial student and nosy bartender with a penchant for sexual adventures and an air of magical mystery—that was all she showed to the world.

When she’d applied to work here, taking over for the owner’s sister—known to all the regulars as Little Finn—she hadn’t expected to stay too long. But she’d been drawn to Seamus, the stressed-out father of four and his large, delightfully intrusive family. She’d been drawn to Jake, the smart, quiet boy who seemed to carry the weight of the world’s happiness on his shoulders—especially his father’s.

She’d been here for more than three years now, and they’d all gotten under her skin in one way or another. Into her heart. If she was going to break free, she’d better do it soon.

And she would. She had to. Just as soon as she told them.

Is that why you’re hesitating? A little selfish, don’t you think?

“I’ve finished my whole beer just watching you spiral in silence,” JD said, snapping her back to reality. “Let’s talk it out before you disappear into a pile of extra gooey anxiety and traumatize Jake before he’s even had sex.”

“How did you—” Jake’s jaw clenched and Fiona was taken aback at how much he reminded her of Wyatt when he was frustrated. “Fiona, I think JD has hit his limit.”

“You can’t do that. Can he do that?” JD looked at his empty glass before turning to Jake apologetically. “I’m a horrible, nosy know-it-all and I’m sorry I snuck that in there when we should be focusing on telling Fiona how to live her life. Can I please have another beer, Prince Jake?”

Jake gave him a nod and Fiona opened a bottle of stout, pouring it into his glass as she stared him down.

“You want to talk it out?” she asked, lowering her voice as she got herself a glass of water. “You want me to just tell them that I lied about why I left and that I’m pregnant with Wyatt’s baby, but I’d still like to fool around with both of them when he gets better, so I hope they forgive me and we can move passed it? You think that would go over well?”

Jake set his phone down and stared at her with wide eyes before taking the water glass from her hand and drinking half of it down in one go. “When you put it like that, I might actually be too young for this conversation.”

“Please. You’re nineteen,” JD said, his concerned gaze glued to Fiona. “And yes, that’s what I want. Maybe not exactly like that but… I’m sorry, you’re my best friend and I’m willing to do many humiliating and potentially illegal things for you, but it’s my turn to tell you to stop being an idiot. The men currently vying for your affection have a right to know. Especially about the baby daddy portion of your little reveal.”

Fiona gasped when a gorgeous purse plopped down on the bar beside them, accompanied by its equally stunning owner, Natasha Finn. “Did someone say baby daddy?”

Damn it!

“Is Little Finn pregnant again? No way,” Tasha answered herself swiftly, pushing the riot of curls off her face. “I saw her this morning and she always tells me everything. Sometimes too much, hard as it is to believe.”

---