Chapter 29

29

Madeline

A Black family party is rowdy. Having five brothers in the one place ensures this, I guess, but still, it's loud and they're rambunctious. It doesn't help that there are twenty six-year-olds in attendance too.

It's Luna's birthday today, and all family members have taken the mid-week afternoon off work for the party, which I think says a lot about the Blacks.

"Thoughts and feelings?" Olivia asks, coming to stand next to me while I watch Gage and Callan try to wrangle the six-year-olds into some kind of order that will allow them to take part in karaoke. Ethan's photographing all the fun. Bradford's in charge of the food with Kristen. Hayden's busy taking care of one of the little boys who scraped his knee. Ingrid and Edmund are finishing the set-up for the karaoke. And Shayla, Luna's mother, is currently on her phone. Her fiancé is nowhere in sight.

I glance at Olivia. "I have way too many to narrow them down."

She laughs. "Give me the first that comes to mind."

"Are all the Black parties this boisterous?"

"Honestly, this is nothing. Wait till there are no kids around." Her brows arch. "That's when it gets really boisterous."

"Wow. I can't even imagine it."

"Surely you had some wild parties down there in Nashville."

"I never really had anything to do with them. And now that I know my ex was cheating on me the entire time, I know why I never got invited."

Olivia blinks. "He didn't invite you? At all?"

"No. I attended official work things, but not his private parties with his boys. And I didn't care because that kind of party isn't my thing." I gaze out at the Blacks doing their thing. "This is more my style. Family get-togethers." I look at her again. "My family was tiny, though, so this noise is all new to me."

"You'll get used to it."

That thought feels good. Getting used to it means I'll have come to many of these get-togethers, and that's something I'm hoping for.

A few minutes later, karaoke begins and two hours pass in a blur of kids singing, adults laughing, and hearts connecting.

Luna is the sweetest little girl who captures my attention easily. The way she has her father and all her uncles wrapped around her little finger is lovely to watch. These are the guys I've watched tease each other, dish out hard truths to each other, bicker and disagree over all kinds of things, get annoyed with each other, and at times had to walk away to blow off steam. Now? They're like saints, loving on this little girl like she's the most precious thing in their world. They're also doting on her best friend, Sarah, because they know how special she is to Luna.

As the party gets closer to ending, Ethan finds his way to me. "I feel like I just did a triathlon. I'm fucking exhausted."

"It was a lot. Imagine having to do that every year for your kid." My eyes go wide. "Imagine having to do that for five boys like your mom did. Wow. Did you guys have a party like this for each birthday?"

"Yeah." He turns quiet, thinking, probably remembering. "It was a lot, wasn't it? A lot of work for parents to do."

During the last month while I've been living in New York, Ethan has started spending more time with his mom. He's told me they're finally having the sort of conversations he's wanted with her his entire life. There are also the weekly Tuesday night dinners with the entire family; Monday Night Football, which is fast becoming a tradition in Ethan's home; Thursday nights with Callan watching the game while I go to yoga with Olivia and Blair; and the occasional Sunday spent with the family for football and food. His father comes to as many of the football gatherings as he can swing.

One of my favorite things about these get-togethers is watching Ethan slowly find his way with his family, especially his father. I know they haven't talked yet about what went down between them before Ethan left for Europe, but all these pockets of time spent together will hopefully lead to that conversation as they add shared-hour upon shared-hour to their relationship.

It's funny how the stories we believe about our parents and our childhood can change and morph into stories that aren't quite accurate. Or that are accurate but have their origins in a bigger picture we don't know about. Like the story Ethan has always believed about his mother not loving him as much as she loved his brothers.

"Do you know," he says slowly, turning into me so that we're in our own little bubble amongst the hum of the party, "when I turned twelve, Mom and Dad let me invite about twenty friends camping and fishing for an entire weekend. I'd forgotten about this."

"Holy fuck, how? How did they manage that many boys on a weekend away all by themselves? It sounds like hell to me."

He chuckles. "No, Dad asked some of the other fathers to come too. They had help, but shit...that's a lot compared to this party. Fuck, I can't believe I'd forgotten about that weekend. It was one of the best weekends of my childhood."

I give him the space to reminisce, the moment only broken by Luna who races over to us and grabs her uncle's hand, begging, "Uncle Ethan! Sarah and me want to do karaoke with you."

He's immediately crouching to get down to her level. "Yeah? What song will we sing?"

Her eyes light up. "We want "Shake It Off" this time."

"This time?" he asks and I have to contain my laughter.

"Yes, silly." She yanks his hand, pulling him up out of his crouch. "Her mom's running late, so we can sing all the songs until then! And you have to twerk. And you're in charge of the rap. We've got pom poms for you!"

By the time Luna and Sarah get Ethan up onto the makeshift stage Gage built for the karaoke part of the party, I've almost got tears running down my cheeks thinking about him twerking that gorgeous ass of his all over the place and performing a rap with pom poms.

Luna, looking super cute in the unicorn tutu her father got her, hands her uncle a mic and bosses him and Sarah to stand in a line with her. As she motions at her grandfather to start the music, Ethan winks at me and grins. He then proceeds to thoroughly entertain me, and everyone else. This man has no fucks to give when it comes to putting himself out there. He sings his heart out, twerks his ass off, and raps like a pro while shaking his pom poms. He doesn't care that by the time the song's finished, he's got a captive audience of parents who've arrived to collect their kids. All he cares about is making this birthday and this party the best it can be for his niece.

Luna convinces him to sing two more songs, and during those, Sarah's mother arrives to collect her. My attention is pulled from Ethan for two reasons. Firstly, Sarah's mother is drop-dead beautiful. With her long brunette hair, high cheekbones, flawless porcelain skin, and toned figure, this woman must stop traffic. Like, literally.

Interestingly, she's unlike every other woman I've seen come to pick up their child. There are no designer clothes here, no Botox or filler, no cool detachment. There's a mother dressed in jeans and a simple white T-shirt, her long wavy hair a little messy like she quickly brushed it this morning and called that enough, long bangs that look like she maybe missed her last hair appointment, and lipstick that's barely still there. And instead of cool distance, she greets Ingrid with a warm smile and waves at her daughter to let her know she's arrived.

The second reason my attention stays with Sarah's mom? I catch Gage's reaction when he sees her and then I see her reaction when he walks over to her. He's talking with Bradford close to where she enters from and I swear he checks out of the conversation. Bradford's still talking but Gage's eyes are firmly on Sarah's mother. When he goes to her, she's suddenly all cool detachment. She doesn't ignore him. I mean, their daughters are best friends, so that would be impossible. But she certainly seems immune to the Black effect. Gage has the kind of charisma and sexy looks that I've witnessed in action while Ethan and I have been out with him. He's the kind of man who only has to walk into a room and his presence alone has women fighting over him. Sarah's mom? She looks like she wishes he'd go away.

She doesn't have to stay long. Sarah finishes singing a few minutes after her arrival and they leave soon after that. And Gage? He stares at her until she's in his elevator and on her way downstairs.

"Have you met Sarah's mom?" I ask Ethan when he joins me after he's finished with the karaoke.

He's got his camera with him again and is fiddling with it while I ask him this. Glancing up at me, he says, "Amelia? Yeah. Why?"

"What's the story with her and Gage?"

His brows pull together. "Huh? What story?"

"Seriously, do men miss everything?"

He finishes with his camera and gives me his full attention. "You're gonna have to elaborate, Miller."

"Have you ever known Gage to stare at a woman?"

"No." He frowns again. "Why?"

"Okay, so Amelia came in and was all sunshine-y and warm. She's a Heather. Gage's eyeballs are glued to her from the second he sees her. When he approaches her, she's no longer a Heather and treats him like he's one big red flag. I seriously hope you can give me the scoop on their story."

"Right, so if I knew what the fuck you just said, I could maybe help you out, but since I'm confused as to whether or not there are one or two women in this story, and about how a human can be a flag, you're gonna have to hit up someone else in the family for this scoop."

I grin because how can I not. Then, I pull his face down to mine so I can have his lips for a few seconds.

After I let him go, he looks confused by everything that's just occurred and mutters, "One of these days, women will make sense to me, but I don't think that's going to be this day."

I move into him and rest a hand on his hip. "Don't ever change, Black. You're too much fun exactly how you are. Now, I do have another question for you."

"Jesus, is it one I'll understand?"

"How the heck did I end up with the only Black brother who can't sing?"

Amusement fills his eyes and then I've got a possessive, demanding hand around my waist, pulling me tightly against him. His mouth comes to my ear and his voice is so fucking hot when he growls, "Did I, or did I not, tell you that your smart mouth would get you into trouble one day?"

I grip his shirt, my core feeling every word he just uttered. "Will that day be today?" I'm leaving to catch a flight to London soon but we could be quick. God knows Gage has enough floors in this condo that we could find a private spot far away from everyone.

He looks at me, his eyes heated. "Since you've got places to be, and since my niece has begged for another photo shoot, it won't be today." His voice still holds sexy gravel. "But next week when I see you will be another story."

My phone sounds with a text, interrupting us. I try to ignore it, but when two more come in straight away, I know I can't. I've got a team working in the background, ensuring my week in London goes off without a hitch. I can't ignore them.

"Shit," I murmur.

"Yeah," Ethan agrees roughly. I know he's feeling my impending five-day absence as much as I am. "Okay"—he lifts his chin at me—"go handle your business, Miller, and I'll go handle a six-year-old."

"Kiss me first."

His eyes crinkle and then I've got his hand in my hair and he's giving me what I want.

I turn back to him as I walk away and say, "One last question, baby. Do you even know what the word ‘hella' means? You rapped it so good while shaking your pom poms with the girls, but is hella actually in the Ethan-Black dictionary?"

He holds his grin on the inside but I see it. "You should be hella concerned about your ass being so red next week that you won't be able to sit on it."

I stand rooted to the spot for way longer than I should, and we both just watch each other. Communicating so much without saying a word. When I finally turn from him and go in search of a quiet spot to check my texts, I already miss him.

The messages are all from Leigh who has also moved to New York. She packed herself up and moved here last week, and she's flying to London with me today while the rest of my team will meet us there. I lock myself in one of Gage's bathrooms and read her texts.

Leigh: We need to delay this entire trip.

Leigh: I just got my period.

Leigh: I hate flying with my period.

This girl never fails to make me smile.

Me: Me too. I'll leave now and go home and collect my period kit for you.

Leigh: I have a period kit I'm packing.

Me: Right, but what's in it because mine might have more things.

Leigh: Pads in all various absorbencies, tampons in the same, period underwear, wipes, pain relief, heating pad, essential oils, big granny undies like the pair I gave you, dark chocolate, herbal tea, a face mask, foot mask, hand sanitizer, stain remover wipes, small trash bags, five romance novels to choose from, a deck of positive affirmations, a "Do Not Disturb" sign for the restrooms that I am not afraid to use, fuzzy socks that say "Don't Talk To Me", my inflatable uterus punching bag, and my copy of "How To Be A Functional Adult When Your Uterus Is Trying To Escape."

Me: Wow. Will all that even fit in your suitcase?

Leigh: Yes. Do you have anything not on my list? I feel like I don't have everything I could.

I actually laugh out loud while reading her last text. Leigh is always the take-charge one of us. The one who is scared by nothing. Except periods, it seems.

Me: I think you're covered, babe.

Leigh: WHY MUST WOMEN HAVE TO TAKE PERIODS FOR THE TEAM?

Leigh: I hate my period app for letting me down this month. I wasn't supposed to start bleeding my lifeblood away today.

At her mention of the period app, a thought teases my mind. I can't quite catch it, but there's something there.

Me: Is your period clockwork?

Leigh: No. Maybe I need a better period app. Is yours clockwork? I'm always jealous of women who have regular periods.

Yes, my period is regular as heck.

Always.

Holy. Fuck.

I catch that thread of a thought floating around in my mind and quickly find my period app on my phone. I'm not sure I've ever tapped my phone faster for anything.

My heart starts beating so fast and hard I swear I can hear it in my ears.

Fuck.

I'm late.

Two weeks if the app is to believed.

I collapse onto the toilet seat lid.

This can't be happening.

No, no, no.

I tap out a fast text to Leigh.

Me: Do you know the reliability rates of these period apps?

My brain races, trying to figure out when exactly I had my last period. The problem is that the past nine weeks have been a whirlwind and my memory is hazy.

Me: Like, your app fucked up, right? Mine could have too.

Leigh: OMG

Leigh: You're late, aren't you?

Leigh: I knew I should never have left you alone with Hottie McHottie. I bet that man has super sperm.

Me: I swear I never missed a pill.

Leigh: How late?

Me: 2 weeks.

Leigh: Shit.

Leigh: Do NOT go and buy a pregnancy test. I'll do it for you. God knows you don't want that shared on social media.

It's at this point that I realize it's not my career that I'm even thinking about right now. It's Ethan. Being pregnant at the nine-week mark in a relationship must surely be categorized as jumping too fast.

Oh, god.

I feel sick.

Everything was going so well for us. Everything. And now it's going to be all fucked up.

He's a guy who doesn't want to jump too fucking fast anymore and I'm a girl who won't ever abort another baby.

My stomach cramps, I feel dizzy, and I quickly stand and vomit into the sink.

This cannot be happening.