Forever (This #5) (32 page)

“Bill and I never spoke after the affair other than at work. He moved up the chain of command quickly. The fact you both ended up at the same school and became best friends was…fate, I guess.”

“And even after fate brought us together as adults, you didn’t think to tell me. To give me a choice at deciding the paternity issue. At giving me a chance to get to know my brother and sister?” Bradley’s eyes go wide and fix on mine. His lips curve upward at the same time as mine. We start to chuckle, then it turns to laughter…hysterical, delirious laughter. He bangs his hand on the table as I hold my stomach.

Words evade me, but not Bradley. “Family. We’re all really family.”

“Yeah.”

“Christmas should be real fun, then, huh?”

“Good thing your brother owns a bar. I’ll supply the booze.”

Mom picks up our trash. “I’m going to check on your other brother. I’ll leave you two to it.”

I sigh. I’m sick of hearing her voice even though I desperately wanted answers from her. After she walks away, I study Bradley’s features. We both have high cheekbones. Our square jaws are practically the same. Our hair color’s the same. We really do look alike. “So…”

“So…”

We both start to laugh again. But it’s not a hysterical, funny laugh. Once, a girl in high school made me sit through the chick flick,
Steel Magnolias
. It’s the same kind of laugh that happens at the ending when everyone has held it together for so long, and they finally start to unravel.

Bradley stands, pushes his chair under the table, and holds his backward hand out to help me up from my seat. I put my hand in his and he pulls me up and embraces me. “People don’t typically get to pick their family. They are put with them from their very first breath, forced to love them even if they hate them.” My thoughts exactly. “We did it the opposite way, man. We picked each other. We loved each other. I picked you.”

I pat his back as tears threaten the backs of my eyes because that may be one of the most sincere things anyone has ever said to me. “Yes, yes, we did.”

Joe and I exit the elevator on the floor of the critical care unit. My mind is swirling, trying to figure out when and how to tell Gabby I have a new brother. Of course, if anyone is able to understand having news of a long lost loved one being found sprung on you, it’s her. It wasn’t even a year ago, after leaving Emory visiting Veronica, I accidentally spilt the beans I’d found her abusive father owned her favorite coffee shop. Gabby eventually forgave me, but I’m not sure Sam has. Gabe is not the man he used to be, and I hope Sam will give him a chance. “Hey.” I nudge Joe. “What’s up with you and Samantha?”

“You’re the only person other than me who calls her that, you know?”

I grin. “So…”

“Nothing happened.”

My face scrunches. “Dude, she was wearing your shirt yesterday.”

A small smile forms on his lips, but quickly fades. “Something may have happened, but it was over before it started.”

I stop in the hall. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean while we were getting it on, my brother…” He pauses and rolls his eyes and points his thumb down the hall. “The other one…was being run over by his Land Cruiser.”

I stop in my tracks. “Wait. What does that have to do with you and Sam?”

“I made the biggest mistake.” He shakes his head. “I broke bro code. I took what was his, and I have to give her back.”

“Dude.” I lower my head.

“What?”

“It’s not like you stole a toy on the playground. Love doesn’t work like that.”

His face turns to stone. “My mind’s made up.”

“Remember when I said you don’t get to pick your family when we were downstairs?”

He nods. “The same thing goes for the women we fall in love with, marry, and allow to mother our children. We think we get to pick because we ask them to marry us, we choose to have sex with them…” He grimaces and rubs his brows. “We have no more control over our hearts than we do our dicks, man.”

He pats me on the shoulder. “Aw. This is sweet.” He squeezes it and moves me back and forth.

“What’s sweet?”

“You trying to play the big brother card already.”

I swat his hand away. “Your birthday is July 16, mine’s June 12. We’re practically twins. I mean, just look at us.” I’d never really thought much of the resemblance. They say everyone has at least one twin. Besides, our eyes are different colors. We weren’t adopted. It’s not like we had any way of even wondering if it was possible we were related.

He chuckles and starts walking. “Even with twins, one is always older than the other. You’re the oldest. I’m the baby.”

Pfft. “I’ll remember you’re the baby and remind you of it constantly when you act like a brat, kay.”

He throws me the bird.

“If your mother were here, she’d tell you to not do things like that in the hospital.” Both fingers go up in the air right before he walks into the waiting room.

Before I follow him, I decide now isn’t how or where I want to give Gabby this news. But we need to have a serious talk when we get home because if this experience hasn’t done anything else, it’s made me want to have babies with her even more than I already did. I hope she’s thinking about what we discussed in the car last night.

Mr. Adams said Joe and his mom had gone to get food downstairs. Bradley wanted to go see him. He hasn’t said so, but I really think he’s worried about his best friend. Joe definitely hasn’t been taking the situation well, and rightfully so. Gabby rests her head on my shoulder, and I rest my head on hers. She seems to be asleep, and I don’t want to bother her, so I sit still with my eyes closed.

Last night I barely slept. Every time my lids close, visions of Joe appear. Joe with those jeans hanging on his hips. Memories of him standing with my legs around his waist pounding into me. Images of his head between my legs. The stampede of horses trot on my stomach. Heat radiates throughout my body, my face feels like it’s under a broiler, and desire nestled in my core nearly bubbles over the edge. Something about having those thoughts in this waiting room with his dad cools the flames burning within me.

Maybe because my thoughts go to Ryan. His brother. My ex-lover.

We did this to him. This is our fault.

I hear Mrs. Adams walk back in. She looks like she’s been punched in the face a few times. Her eyes are red and swollen. Her cheeks are tear-stained and splotchy.

Mr. Adams gets up and embraces her. “Where’s Joe? Did he make sure you ate like I told him to?”

She nods. “He’s with Bradley. They’ll be up in a few minutes. He wasn’t quite finished. You’re already done giving blood?”

“Yeah. What did you eat?”

“Don’t worry about me, Don. I got plenty.” She releases him and walks over to me and Gabby. “Girls, it’s good to see you both.” Her lips curve up slightly. It’s always been hard to gauge whether she likes me or not. Mom once told me that mothers of boys aren’t usually nice to girlfriends because typically the mommas are the first loves of the boys. The girlfriends steal their babies away. If she didn’t like me before, she’s certainly going to hate me when she discovers Joe and I are responsible for her beloved Ryan’s situation.

“Hi, Mrs. Adams,” I say. “I’d get up to hug you, but I’m pretty sure my sister is zonked on my shoulder right now. She’s not drooling, is she?” I point to Gabby.

She smiles. “No drool.”

I make an effort to grin back at her. The tightening of my face intensifies the splitting headache that’s consumed my forehead, and my eyes are saggy, my lids heavy. Right now, her affection or approval doesn’t mean much to me. However, I would like to hug her because I’ve watched enough cases to know no matter whether your baby is three or thirty-one, the aching a mother experiences when her child is in pain is universal. Well, mostly universal. There are always a few lunatics. I’ve seen my fair share of those cases too.