Page 85 of Meet Hate Love
“That’s understandable.”
“We kept saying it wasn’t serious. Just fun. And it was fun. The sex was really fun. And now…” She glanced down at her still flat stomach, then burst into tears again. “And now the fun is over!”
What was I supposed to say to that? She’d just said the sex was fun, like that had been the highlight of her relationship with whoever this guy was. And a baby was a lot of responsibility.A lotof responsibility. God, I was not good in those situations.
“The guy’s a complete disaster.” She pushed out of the beanbag, tissues in hand. “You know how he makes his money?”
Grace had a penchant for bad boys and players. The guy was probably a drug dealer or some obnoxious frat boy who called everyone “bruh.” “Selling weed?”I offered.
“No. He has a Lonely Fans account.” She rolled her eyes, then she disappeared into the bathroom.
Lonely fans? So it seemed a lot of people did Lonely Fans…
The sink cut on. “And he must make good money.” Water splashed, muffling her voice. “I haven’t looked at his page because he charges forty bucks a picture.”
My pulse sped up. That specific amount sounded uncomfortably familiar, but maybe forty bucks was the going rate on that site. “Forty dollars.” I swallowed, telling myself I was snowballing. “That sounds like a lot…”
“He posts pictures of his dick in front of world monuments. I don’t know why anyone would pay that much to see a dick in front of the Alamo.”
And there it was.Crash. Boom. Ka-pow.
The guy I’d stupidly fallen head over heels in love with had knocked up my little sister.
* * *
After Grace had mentionedMy Dick Travels as the name of the Lonely Fans account, I hadn’t had much of an appetite, either. I’d heated up some canned chicken noodle soup and tried to convince her everything would be okay while, simultaneously, trying to convince myself the same thing.
It wasn’t until I’d checked in for my flight to Kansas and sat down in the terminal of La Guardia, texting Margot, that I even allowed the idea of tears to come to mind.
WTAF?! Blake???
Did you tell Grace you’d been sleeping with her baby’s daddy?
No. She’s dealing with too much right now.
She’d obviously been there first. And what would have been the point? It’s not like Vance had known we were sisters. It’s not like my telling her I’d been pining after him for the eight months and fucking his brains out for the past week would change anything.
Did you tell the double-dipping dick swindler?
No. That’s not really an over-text conversation.
I will drive down to Alabama and cut off his dick.
Right now.
And that was something else that didn’t need to happen. Because he was dealing with enough, too.
I’ll handle Vance when I get back tomorrow.
But it absolutely would not be at Junoon. I refused to ruin that restaurant experience.
By handle, you mean murder, right?
Because she found out she was pregnant BEFORE you went to Europe. Which means he knew he had a bun in the oven before he fucked you in the Pope’s restroom. He knew he had gotten someone pregnant before he told you he wanted to be with you.
Damn, that had stung.
He should have had the decency to tell you. Oh, by the way, how do you feel about kids? Because if you get involved with me in a few months, I’m going to have a screaming newborn every other weekend.
