As Long As You Love Me Part 20

Avery made a sound in her throat, almost a growl. "Men like that should be castrated."

"How many baby daddies is that now, Lauren?" Jillian aimed a sugary smile at me.

"That's enough. I already told you, we talked and it's cool." That was Avery, shutting down the b.i.t.c.hiness before it got started.

But I figured, Why not answer? "Two since I've been home. If the rumors keep spreading, I'll end up with a litter, each from a different sperm donor. I could sell them for fifty K a pop, Rent-a-Womb, Inc. What do you think, awesome get-rich-quick scheme, yes or yes?"

"Speaking as someone who's currently the size of a tuba, I can only say, ouch." But Krista was laughing as she said it.

Avery snickered, and Jillian unwound enough to grin at me. We drove through town and out to the highway; the scenery was pretty much all snowy fields, shadowed by the dark sky overhead. We cracked jokes all the way to Whitney, twenty minutes past Edison.

When I realized where we were, I said, "Jillian. Now you have to tell me what we're doing."

She answered, "Just Jill is fine. And have you heard of the Thunder From Down Under?" At my nod, she added, "Well, it's like that, only low-rent."

"We're going to a strip club? Why didn't anyone tell me? I don't have any singles!" I half thought they were s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g with me until Avery pulled into a gravel parking lot, just off the interstate. There was a whole lot of nothing around this place, but the neon lights that read JOKERS WILD told a fairly compelling story.

"It's usually women, but once a month, they bring in some dudes," Avery told me.

"I'd watch the girls," Jill said.

"I have watched them." A few times, I'd gone out with guy friends in Michigan, and on those weird nights, we ended up in a strip club while they salivated and I drank. But drinking had gotten me into a lot of trouble, so I'd be careful tonight.

"Okay, the only rule of girls' night," Krista put in, "is that we don't talk about guys, other than to admire the ones shaking it on stage. No boyfriend talk, no relations.h.i.+p advice, got me?"

Avery nodded. "I like that plan."

Jill and I agreed to the terms as we hurried across the parking lot, shoulders hunched against the bitter air. Inside, it was warmer, and like a show club straight out of some 80s music video. I stifled a laugh when I realized there were five people in here, not counting us and the staff. Three women and two men. The guys seemed to be together, which couldn't be easy around here. Mentally I saluted them and wondered how Angus was doing back in Michigan; he wasn't just my roommate, but also one of my best friends.

I should call him.

"Let's grab a table near the stage." Krista led the way, giving the impression it wasn't her first time. The music was just cuing up as we sat down and ordered.

Sadly for the man-candy, the guys willing to take their clothes off around these parts weren't much to admire. The first stripper was incredibly thin-to the point that I wanted to bake him some cookies and knit him a scarf. He could dance, though, so that was something, and he did some interesting things with a fire extinguisher. But the point was to joke around with each other, not stare at hot dudes, and we did until Krista bolted for the bathroom.

When she came back, she shook a finger at Jill. "You have to stop it. I don't have any panty liners left."

That only made the rest of us laugh harder. I only had a couple of beers and Krista didn't drink at all. Avery and Jill, on the other hand, slammed back shots until I was impressed they weren't falling out of their chairs. Jill leaned over and put her hand on my arm, waving me closer with the other one. Smirking, I tilted my head for whatever drunken confidence she was about to impart.

"Sorry I misjudged you."

Wow. I didn't expect an apology.

Oblivious to my surprise, she went on, "Avery told me you guys talked. I'm sorry I was a b.i.t.c.h at Walmart, it's just...she hasn't really ever been with anyone...and, well, I thought maybe Rob... f.u.c.k it, I'm not supposed to talk about dudes, never mind."

d.a.m.n. That was just starting to get good. But rules were rules.

So I said, "Don't worry about it. We're good now, right? I could use some people to hang with in Sharon."

"Yep. If Avery believes you, that's okay by me. Oh, my G.o.d, look at that guy."

When the tear-away pants came off, the first thing I noticed was gold lame underpants. It looked like he was smuggling a salami down there. He was extremely tanned and fit, so my gaze lingered on his chest and thighs. I gradually worked my way upward, only to jolt in my chair when I realized the face I was looking at belonged to a guy old enough to be my granddad.

He caught my eye and winked. Pretty much everyone in the club was on their feet, howling in support. I chucked a five-dollar bill onto the stage. His number was campy as h.e.l.l, the most original ch.o.r.eography we'd seen all night. I screamed when he did a little twirl, just like the guy in the song, who was also too s.e.xy for his s.h.i.+rt. Jill held on to my shoulder, staring up in what could've been drunken adulation.

"G.o.d, I hope I'm that much fun when I get old," I said to the table.

"Amen, sister." Krista winced and put a hand on her belly.

"c.r.a.p. Too much excitement? Should we go?" It wasn't that late, but I'd die if we ended up delivering a baby in a strip club. Try explaining that to the paramedics.

"No, it's false labor. I'm told it's normal in the last few months or so."

"Wow, so you're about to pop," Jill marveled.

Krista scowled. "I'm not a balloon."

"Could've fooled me," Avery mumbled.

I snickered.

"Screw you guys, especially you, Lauren. You're supposed to be my sister in solidarity."

"Because of my faux gestations? I wonder if I could work up a hysterical pregnancy like dogs do." I widened my eyes at Krista. "Would that make you feel better?"

"Only if you actually get fat and milk shoots out your nipples."

"That would be superawkward to explain at work."

"But think of the credence it would add to the story you told your boss," Avery pointed out. "What are you doing about that anyway?"

"h.e.l.l if I know. I guess I'll lose the baby in a few weeks, and I feel horrible saying that when women are going through it for real."

"It's not your fault," Jill said, surprising me. "If you didn't work for such a complete creeper, you wouldn't even be in this situation."

"True," Krista said. "Somebody should teach that a.s.shole a lesson."

On stage, Gold Lame Grandpa took an impressively limber bow. The guys at the next table whistled as he walked off stage. Avery propped her chin in her hands, an odd and disturbing darkness in her green eyes. With one fingertip she ringed the top of her gla.s.s.

"It's true," she said quietly. "He should definitely pay."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

In early April Rob finished the kitchen and cooked dinner for us, which we ate in the gorgeous dining room. It was amazing how much progress he'd made on the house-and how much I'd actually helped, if less so in the past month since I started at the dealers.h.i.+p. Though I missed lending a hand, it was good to have money coming in.

But we made sure to record weekly vlogs, and his views just kept increasing. At last count, he had an incredible number of subscribers. Rob didn't seem to realize how much promotion I was doing at night after I went home. He also didn't know about the ads I'd purchased for him, promoting his business. He was adorably excited when the furniture orders starting coming in. Not a ton, one or two a week, but it was more than he'd expected.

Maybe one day, he can make a living at this.

That night, I mentioned buying a car, but Rob shook his head. "That makes no sense. Just drive the truck, it's not like I'm using it. Save your money for tuition."

I started to argue, then I decided it was smarter to keep quiet and do as I pleased. Since I'd never owned my own car, I wanted one, end of story. But I couldn't think of a way to explain it that didn't end with us arguing and me yelling, You're not the boss of me.

The week after, he went back to working construction full-time. The weather had warmed enough to make that possible, and I paid for my first round of cla.s.ses. With no other living expenses, I didn't give up on the idea of my own wheels, however, no matter what Rob said. So six weeks after I started at the car lot, I got one of the salesmen to make me a deal on a trade-in. My credit was nonexistent, so he took $500 down, subsequent payments to be deducted from my paycheck for the next eighteen months, after which point I'd own my car outright. So working for Davies had some perks after all.

After work, I drove home to meet my mom. Rob had a longer drive since he worked outside of Sharon, and I'd felt a bit sneaky enlisting my mom to help me return his truck on the sly. But she approved of untangling our affairs because "it's a bad idea to be dependent on someone you're dating." Based on what I'd seen when her life disintegrated, she wasn't wrong.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" she asked, parking behind me in Rob's driveway.

"He might yell at me. I'll get over it." Truthfully I couldn't picture it. I already felt like a b.i.t.c.h, as if I was chucking his kindness back in his face.

"If you say so."

The back door of his garage wasn't 100 percent secure if you knew how to jiggle it. I let myself in and hit the b.u.t.ton on the garage, then put Tessa Green-tea safely away. Pondering for a moment, I tucked the keys inside the visor. Should be safe enough. After checking to make sure the place was secure, I pushed the panel and ducked out the front to my mom's waiting car. It wasn't cold, so she had the windows down, and the air smelled damp and green, the trees all around just starting to bud.

"He's really got some gorgeous property. The house needs some work, though."

From the outside, I agreed. He'd been focused on the inside, making it beautiful and livable, so the paint was chipped and peeling, the gutters needed to be cleaned after the long winter and the roof would probably need to be replaced in the next year or so.

"Let's get out of here before he catches us."

Laughing, my mom drove us to the dealers.h.i.+p, and we didn't see Rob's red truck along the way. I was beyond excited when we got there. The final paperwork was ready, so I signed off, took the doc.u.mentation and the keys and practically sprinted out to claim my beautiful, pre-owned Honda Civic, nicely nondescript in charcoal-gray. But the garage guys promised me it was reliable, and if it turned out they were lying, well, I knew where to find them.

My mom circled around the car once and gave an approving nod. "This is a really sensible purchase."

"Dammit. Now I have buyer's remorse. I knew I should've bought that old DeLorean on eBay instead."

"If you want, I can ask Stuart about car insurance for you."

"That would be great, thanks."

"Not a problem. Don't make any plans for next weekend, all right? Stuart and I are hosting a...thing. It would mean a lot to me if you came."

My gaze flew immediately to her left hand, which was ringless. I raised a brow. "Oh, yeah? Something you'd like to tell me?"

"There might be an interesting announcement." She glowed at me.

I couldn't remember ever seeing her look that way, even before my dad went broke. "I'll be there. Just tell me where and when."

"Thanks, honey. It's next Sat.u.r.day at eight. We rented a private room at the Grove. Are you coming home or...?"

"I'd better stop by Rob's. I'm not trying to hide this from him, I just didn't want to have the 'returning your truck-it's fine, keep it,' discussion. This way, it's a done deal."

"Okay, good luck."

He was home by the time I got to his place, just climbing out of his truck. Usually he'd showered by the time I arrived, so I sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of him sweaty and dirty after a hard day's work. His hair was a little s.h.a.ggy, grown out for the winter. Rob was the kind of guy who got, like, three haircuts a year, two of them during the warmer months. At the moment, he had the beginnings of a beard, and I was inclined to encourage him to grow it.

I swung out of my car. "Hey, you."

"Hey, yourself." His gaze went to the Civic. "Can I figure Tessa's back in the garage?"

I nodded and told him where to find the keys. "Thanks for letting me borrow it."

"Not a problem." Maybe he was too tired to argue; that could be good for me. "You want to come in?"

Huh. That was a decidedly cooler greeting than I usually got from him. By now he'd ordinarily have grabbed me and kissed me, said something adorable, sweet or both. Before, you said I didn't need to call before stopping by.

"Not if you're busy." Pain splintered outward, starting with a weird, awful tightness in my chest.

"It's fine, come on." He headed for the door, unlocked it and wiped his boots on the mat outside. Before stepping onto the polished hardwood, he pulled them off and left them outside.

My shoes weren't as filthy, but I took them off and left them on the rug just inside. Holy s.h.i.+t. The living room was done, completely finished, painted and furnished. Rob's taste ran to simplicity, but he had phenomenal style. A soft ecru rug centered the room, allowing the floors to s.h.i.+ne in darker contrast. He'd added a chocolate-and-caramel-striped sofa and a plain brown love seat. Clearly he'd made the coffee table himself, and it was a gorgeous piece with flat surfaces above and below for magazines and remotes, then drawers below, likely for hiding stuff, like afghans or snacks. I'd picked out the paint for the walls, but I couldn't have imagined how nice it would look all pulled together. No pictures yet, but the whole downstairs was done.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me. The place looks fantastic."

He folded his arms, unresponsive to my praise. "We're just full of not telling each other things, huh?"

"Is this about the car?" I tensed, gearing up for our first real argument.

Before now, I never stuck around long enough to have these awkward moments, where we stepped on each other's feelings and then had to figure out how to make it right. My instincts told me to run. Huh. So maybe it's not just guys who bail. Somehow I kept the awful swirling in my stomach from driving me out of the front door.

"You're the smart one. Figure it out."

That p.i.s.sed me off for, like, ten reasons. "Maybe I should let you cool off."

He let out a sigh. "No, we have to settle this. It's been a long, c.r.a.ppy day, and it's harder than I expected at work without my dad. And then I come home to...this. You want the truth? This hurts, Lauren. I mean, you didn't talk to me or ask me to inspect the car before you bought it. That's the one thing I know about-fixing things. I can't do a lot for you as a boyfriend, and it makes me feel like a worthless sack of s.h.i.+t when you cut me out. It's not that I don't want you to have a car, I just want to feel like my opinion matters."

I never thought about it that way; I only saw it as a.s.serting my independence, taking care of myself so Rob didn't have to. The ache in my chest intensified. It would be better if he were mad, but the look-a raw mixture of pain and sadness-in his eyes said I'd made him feel just like everyone else, as if he wasn't smart enough for me to solicit his input.

"So...you just wish I'd taken you with me to look, is that right?"

"Yeah," he said quietly.

"But...you said it was a waste of money. I didn't want to argue."

"You think we're never going to b.u.t.t heads? That's not how this works. If you've made up your mind, it doesn't matter what I think. It's your money and your call."

"I'm sorry. In hindsight, I should've asked you. But...that seems like a super couple-y thing to do, and...I didn't know you were my boyfriend."

He actually flinched like I'd smacked him in the face. Oh, s.h.i.+t. You made it worse. "What the f.u.c.k do you think we've been doing? I went to your work, remember, and set your boss straight, made it really clear that you're off-limits."

The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt Rob. Tears threatened, and I hadn't cried in front of anyone besides Nadia in years. I chewed on my lip, trying to control the meltdown. This time, though, it wasn't panic. I'd thought an anxiety attack provided the worst feeling in the world, but nope. Knowing I'd trampled all over his feelings like a thoughtless a.s.shole-that was the pit of h.e.l.l.