Bed Buddies: Puck Buddies, Book Three Page 15

  “I love you, Sami Ford.” He says it like it might be the most important detail in his world.

  He’s mine.

  Chapter 19

  Neanderthals and shit

  April 11, 2016

  Natalie

  Brady staggers through the door in the middle of the night, drunk as fuck, and starts eating leftover pizza from the fridge as if nothing’s wrong.

  His eyes are puffy and his nose is red. He sniffles and opens the fridge, clearly missing the fact I’m sitting on the sofa in the dark, annoyed. I hate that I’m pissed but it’s been hours with nothing. No call. No text. No fuck you, nothing. He hasn't told me he’s safe or back in New York.

  But I can’t be that girlfriend.

  Matt’s lost half his family and technically Brady’s the other half.

  Matt needed him.

  Matt who I’m trying so hard not to hate.

  But I can’t help it.

  He didn't even want her there to console him or care for him. He didn't even care that she came all that way. His father, who he hated, died, and he couldn't even let her help him grieve. I can’t imagine Brady not wanting me there or not even calling, just once.

  These words have wrestled in my brain for hours, keeping me awake.

  I don't even have a response for this shit.

  And then for Brady to not bother calling, I’m done with the both of them.

  But I can’t be that girlfriend.

  So I sit in the dark, watching him, waiting to find a single redeemable trait.

  He wipes his nose with his hand and then wipes his hand on his pants. He chews too loud and cracks a beer, as if he needs more, guzzling and burping.

  I grimace, wishing I’d missed it all, until he puts the beer down and starts crying. It's sudden and not what I expect. He slinks down to the floor, still sniffling and chewing.

  I get up, hurrying to him.

  We don't speak. I wrap myself around him, letting him be sad.

  He drops the pizza to the floor, pulling me to him. His body tightens as silent sobs leave him. He grips me, crying until he finally calms again. Then he takes deep breaths like he wants to speak but he doesn't know how.

  Brady doesn't cry.

  Brady doesn't ever cry.

  He’s probably in pain from years of pent-up tears. The only ones his brother has ever seen him cry were when he scored his first goal in the NHL and he gave his mom the puck. But that was a tiny cry compared to this.

  This is something else.

  “Do you wanna go to the bed?” I mutter, stroking his hair.

  “Yeah,” he groans, sniffling and wiping his face. His eyes don't meet mine, and I hope it’s not that he’s embarrassed about crying in front of me. I cry in front of him all the time.

  I get up, trying to help him but he weighs a ton. Finally, he helps himself and stands up, swaying a little. Leading him to the bed isn’t easy but when I get him there, he sort of flops so I have to roll him until he gets to a spot that's close enough.

  He lays on his back, staring at the ceiling and not moving. I pull his shoes and pants off and climb on the bed, dragging his hoodie and tee shirt off.

  I fold his side of the blankets over him, strip down, and climb in on my side, snuggling up to him and resting in the crook of his arm. I place a soft kiss on his cheek.

  Within seconds he’s sleeping.

  It’s the weirdest night we’ve ever had.

  I fall asleep lying on him and hoping Matt’s okay.

  When I wake, Brady’s gone. I blink in the little bit of daylight filtering in and check my phone. There’s a text from him and Sami. His says Matt needed him and he’ll call me in a bit.

  Sami’s asks if Brady made it home.

  My heart aches but I force myself to call her.

  “Hey?” she answers too quickly.

  “Hey. Yeah, Brady came home in the middle of the night, drunk as hell. He was a hot mess. I put him to bed and he was gone before I woke up.”

  “Matt hasn't called at all. Not once.” Her voice sounds funny, strained.

  “Then he’s kind of an asshole. I’m sorry, I get it. His dad and brother just died, but he talks about wanting to spend the rest of his life with you, and yet can’t even check in? Can’t even tell you he’s safe or that he’s fucking sad? It’s bullshit, Sami.” I wish I hadn’t said it, but I needed to.

  “Oh thank God. I’m not being needy?” She sighs and breathes heavily.

  “No. He gave you a promise ring and then the first challenge in your lives hits and he’s not letting you be part of it? That's fucked. This is a weird William thing to do. I don't like it.”

  “Me either.” She sounds better. “But I can’t call him. He’s with his family and shit’s hitting the fan, you know it is. His mom is a mess, for sure. She’s demanding all his time and that he take care of everything, I bet you. Meanwhile, I could help. I could actually organize a lot of these things that need taking care of. Not only do I know every good event planner, but I’m detached from the whole thing.” She sighs. “But he doesn't need me or he would ask.”

  “Maybe—”

  “Don't.” She cuts me off. “Don't do that. I did that to you with William, always playing the devil’s advocate and all it did was make you think I liked him. I was trying to stop you from hurting and I made him seem like he wasn't shit.”

  “For the record, I don't think Matt’s shit. I just think he’s not the best. Not that Brady’s better but—”

  “He is. He might be a Neanderthal in some ways, but he’s loyal. Look at him this morning. They have a game in two days, and he’s been getting drunk and helping as much as he can. He isn’t saying anything, he’s just there.”

  “I guess.” I wish Matt were better for her than he seems to be.

  “Speaking of being there for someone, I have something to tell you. I need you.” She sounds funny again. “Can you come over?”

  “Yeah. I’ll be right there.” I hang up and get dressed, even more worried now.

  Chapter 20

  This changes everything

  April 10, 2016

  Sami

  Swirling my fork in the plate, dragging the egg yolk into the syrup and making a design, I’m overcome again with the sour taste in my mouth. The subtle nausea is worse than getting sick. At least then it’s over. Not this dragging it out nonsense.

  I shudder and push the plate away.

  Nadia scoops it up. “Waffles are your favorite. Try a couple of bites. Can I get you some fruit?”

  “No. This stomach thing’s driving me nuts. I’m not hungry, at all.” I pause. “Actually, can I have a PB and J with butter on sourdough?”

  “Another one?” She winces. “It’s the only thing you’ve eaten for days.”

  “Just get it,” I growl.

  “Fine!” she snaps back. She’s grown some serious lady balls this last year. I actually like her better this way. She’s kinda mean back. It's healthier.

  A couple of minutes later she slaps a box and a plate down. “Here!”

  “Pregnancy test?” I scoff. “I’m on the pill.” I roll my eyes. “There’s no way.”

  “You were traveling and busy and stressed, and you should have had your period a week ago. I think you should check.” She points at the terrifying little blue box. “I bought this the other day when you started to feel sick. It’s always in the mornings and you feel better by the afternoon.”

  “There’s no way.”

  “Did you have a period last month? I don't think you did.”

  “What?” I grab my phone, frantically checking to see when the last period was.

  My fingers tremble as I scroll the calendar, gasping when I see that I didn't mark one down in March and the one in February was at the beginning of the month.

  “See!”

  “Shit!” Shivers cover my body.

  “You need to test it.”

  “It’s the stress.” I shudder as a wave of something bad hits me. I
jump up, leaving the box behind and running for the bathroom. When I fling open the bathroom door, the unending nausea is crushed by the heaving and puking taking over my body.

  The box slides across the floor to me as I wipe my mouth and groan.

  “It’s not that,” I shout at her through the door as she closes it.

  “Then check, just to be sure,” she shouts back.

  “Fine!” I grab the box and sit on the toilet, ripping the cardboard open and snapping the lid off. It takes a second to get the pee to come out, but when I’ve coated it in urine, I push the lid on and leave it in the sink.

  I haven’t puked since December. My stomach hurts and my mouth is sour.

  I put off finishing up and wash my hands in the other sink, refusing to check the pee stick.

  There’s no way I’m pregnant. There’s no way. I’ve slipped up on pills before and nothing happened. There’s no way.

  I glance at myself in the mirror, scared that the haggard-looking face is lying to itself.

  Deciding to check and not be a pussy, I turn and walk to it, almost closing my eyes.

  When I lift the stick, I have to focus and then grab the box because I don't actually know how to read it. After a moment of staring, I drop the stick, spinning to the door. “Do you have another one of these tests? This one’s broken.”

  “What does it say?”

  “JUST GET ME ANOTHER ONE!” I scream.

  The door opens and another box falls in and the door slams.

  “Fuck!” I grab the box, ripping it open. I sit back on the toilet and wait. I don't have to pee, but I force it for so long a small trickle comes out. I manage to land a little on the stick and snap the lid back on.

  This one I stare at, terrified.

  The little line, the second line, comes instantly.

  I slump and reach for my phone, not even caring that my hands are holding a piss stick.

  I phone Linda, but I hang up and call Nat and hang up before she can answer. Then I press Matt’s number but then I hang up again. I call Carson, pacing the bathroom.

  “What’s got you up so early?” He yawns into the phone.

  “It’s eleven, Carson!” I snap.

  “Stop yelling,” he groans, obviously hungover.

  “What would you do if a girl you really liked and possibly wanted to marry was having a baby, your baby?”

  “Asking for a friend?” He chuckles.

  “No, dick, I’m late.” This is impossible.

  “Oh Christ, Sami. You get that taken care of quietly and don't tell a soul. You cry on the inside like a winner and move on. Jesus.”

  “Carson!” I can’t believe his first thought is abortion. “Honestly, that's what you’d expect a girl to do? Even if you really liked her?”

  “He’s just started with the NHL. His dad has him double-timing at work to learn the business a little to impress your dad and his. He spends what little time he can with you. It’s been a brutal fucking six months. I would know, I never see the guy. And when I do, he’s always tired. You really think having a baby right now while you two aren’t married is the best plan?” He yawns. “You would both be disowned.”

  “I can’t do it.” I close my eyes and slump back on the toilet. “I thought I was pregnant one time, a long time ago. And I thought about abortion and I can’t do it. I’m not some rape victim from a third world country or a poor girl with no money. I’m not some high school student or a kid. My dad or creepy uncle didn't get me pregnant. I’m an adult who got pregnant with a guy she loves and can afford to raise this kid, even if it means I get disowned and only get my trust fund. I could live a normal life, just no Fifth Avenue. I already own two houses and I’m buying the third this week.”

  “Then I guess you better come up with an adult answer that sounds like clan but starts with P. Ask Nat what she would do. She’s smarter than both of us put together.” He clears this throat. “Speaking of Nat, did I mention that Will has been stalking her?” He chuckles a little.

  “No. What?”

  “He’s been asking around about her, says he misses her and he’s a changed man. He loves her and wants to win her back.”

  “Oh good God, keep him away. She doesn't need to break up with the one good guy she’s ever dated so she can go back to the Douche.”

  “Oh, I’ve been covering. I think a lot of this is that his family is incredibly disappointed in him. Rich and I were at dinner the other night and he said he let it slip to his mom how Nat and Will broke up. She was less than pleased he was so disrespectful. And now since Nat’s made something of herself, she’s even more sought after.”

  “You and Rich?” It’s really the only part of the story I care about. Nat is never getting back together with Will. I’ll keep her in Matt’s cellar before I allow that.

  “Well, we became closer last summer during Operation Sabotage Will the Douche. I was with him when he made the decision to tell you.”

  My jaw drops. “You and Rich?”

  “Stop! It’s nothing. We’re just friends.” He’s smiling way too hard.

  “Oh my God, that is adorable. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own shit, I didn't even notice. I’m sorry.” I feel bad but the fact I’m pregnant is a bit overwhelming. “I’m stealing the spotlight from something wonderful.”

  “It’s nothing. Don't jinx it. I don't want to talk about it. Call me when you make a decision.” He hangs up before I can grill him more.

  I shiver from the cold floor and cold water I wash my hands with as I avoid seeing myself in the mirror. I throw out the pee sticks and grab my phone. When I open the door, Nadia offers me a sad smile. “Congratulations.” It comes out as more of a question.

  Tears flood my eyes when I see hers. “Thanks. Can you throw those out? I don't want anyone to see.”

  She nods and hurries into the bathroom to tidy up.

  When I get back to the kitchen, I sit and start eating my sandwich. I’m not hungry but the whole thing makes me feel better.

  “Sami!” My mother rushes in. “Did you hear?” She appears flustered.

  “What?” I can’t possibly guess what has her this worked up.

  “The Brimleys have had a terrible accident. They’ve crashed and people on board the jet are dead. I don't know who was on board. It’s awful. Where’s your Matt?”

  “Home!” I panic and call his apartment.

  “Brimley residence.”

  “Benson, is it true?” I don't greet him or anything.

  “Yes, Miss Ford. I’m sorry but it is.”

  “Is he safe?”

  “Yes, he’s here. He’s about to leave for Boston now. His father’s being taken to the hospital there. He’s walking out the door now as we speak to get the helicopter on the roof.”

  “Okay. I’ll call him in a bit.” I hang up and send a quick text to Matt telling him that if he needs me I’m here. But he doesn't respond.

  “Well?” She’s still exasperated.

  “Yeah, Matt’s okay.” I sigh, not feeling at all better.

  “This is a disaster.” My mother slumps into the chair next to me. “I don't even know what to say.”

  Thankfully, she doesn't say anything else.

  We sit in silence and I try not to cry.

  Chapter 21

  I’m pregnant

  April 11, 2016

  Natalie

  She sits across from me, scowling and lost in the pattern on her white bedspread.

  “What is it?” I ask again, hoping she kills the suspense and just tells me.

  “I have a problem.” She swallows. “And I don't know what to do.”

  “Holy shit, Sami. What’s the problem?” I can’t even guess what could be this dire.

  “I’m pregnant.” She drops the biggest bomb of our lives. Matt’s dad dying is nothing compared to my shock of this.

  It takes me a minute to say anything but when I do, I regret it immediately. “Matt’s?” I blurt, hating that I’ve asked, but the timing stuns
me, that and the bad luck.

  “Of course.” She’s offended, not that I blame her.

  “Holy shit.” My whole body gets cold and numb all at once. “Pregnant?” The word feels like poison on my lips.

  “Yeah.” Her eyes flicker from me to the bed again. “Major holy shit.”

  “When did you find out?”

  “Yesterday, right before—” She doesn't add the last part, she doesn't have to.

  “Oh God.”

  “Yeah.” She wipes away a silent tear.

  “I’m so sorry.” I bite my lip. I don't know what else to say.

  She leans in, pressing her body into mine and forcing a hug. I wrap around her, closing my eyes and wondering how the hell this could possibly be happening. “What are you going to do?”

  “Why does everyone think there are options?” she mutters and sits up.

  “Sami, it's your body—”

  “Have it. I can’t kill a healthy baby for no reason. It might ruin my life, but it might not.” She blinks another tear out.

  “Shit.” I blink a tear out too and realize I’m crying.

  “What would you do if it were you and Brady?”

  “Have it.” The question isn’t even debatable for me.

  “Exactly.” She says it flatly.

  “How are you going to tell him? His dad—”

  “I’m not.” She shakes her head. “Babies in new moms don't always make it past the first three months. So I’ll wait. His family doesn't need to know. His dad’s dead. His brother’s dead. His mom’s a mess. My mom said they’ve had her sedated since it happened. They brought her home from Boston in the helicopter and she was unconscious and had doctors with her. So there’s no reason to tell him or his family. They have enough on their plate.”

  “Has he even texted you?” I kinda hate him right now.

  “No.” The word comes out of her lips like she’s lost some hope. “I don't want to be that girl. The one who’s needy and demanding. His family’s in crisis. I don't understand why he doesn't want me to be with him.” Another silent tear trickles down her cheek. “I’d want him. I wouldn't want anyone but him.” She blinks and they flood her face. “Except you.”