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CAITLIN
“Ican’t tell you how much I appreciate you fitting me in today. This outfit is fierce. Really, it’s perfect, Caitlin.” Lilah holds the black garment bag up as I walk to Callen’s front door.
“I’m happy to do it. The clothes are already starting to not fit me, so at least one of us can get some use out of them.” I sigh, already longing to fit in my jeans again. I’ve only gained five pounds, but it’s definitely in my hips and belly. A tiny little bump, but there’s no way I’m buttoning them all the same.
“Come on, you don’t look like you’ve gained any weight at all.”
I lift my oversized cashmere sweater and turn sideways to show off the tiny little bump hiding under my black leggings.
Lilah’s face melts in the sweetest way. I guess she’s a baby person. The kind who goes all gooey every time they see an adorable baby. I wouldn’t exactly call myself a baby person. I fully expect to melt for my baby, and I love my friends and family’s babies. But I’m not going to stop someone on a plane to tell them their kid is cute. Lilah seems like she’d be a plane stalker.
“I still can’t believe you and Callen are having a baby. It’s so exciting.”
You and me both, sister.
You and me both.
“You’re coming to the game tonight, right?” When I don’t answer, she pops her hand on her slim hips.Ugh. I used to have slim hips too.“You’re coming. You have to. Today was Grandpa’s last treatment, and it’s the first game he’s going to since he announced his retirement. We’re all going to be there supporting him. Plus, it’s the playoffs,” she pleads. “If they win tonight, we’re going back to the Super Bowl. Don’t you want to tell little baby Beneventi-Sinclair they were there to watch their daddy cinch the Super Bowl bid?”
I hate that I can’t argue with anything she’s saying, so instead, I go with the easy mark. “You mean Sinclair-Beneventi?”
“Come on, Cait. At least come watch me sing in this outfit. I mean, you could wear a matching Sinclair jersey if you really wanted to,” she teases... at least, I think she’s teasing.
“Umm... No. I won’t be doing that. One of us wearing Callen’s jersey is enough. And it’s only acceptable because he’s your cousin, and it’s your grandfather’s former number too.” I’ve worn Callen’s jersey to the Kings’ games for years. A few of my cousins who are close with him and I have all worn his while the twins wore their dad’s. But it feels like me wearing it tonight would be different. It would mean something different.
“Think about it,” she adds, and I open the door, bracing for the cold.
“I’ll think about it,” I placate her with no intention of doing it. “I’ll see about the game. If I’m not there, I’ll be watching it on TV, cheering you on.” I hug Lilah and watch her walk to her car. But it’s not her car that has my attention. It’s my brother’s car pulling up next to hers that’s making me hesitate.
What the fuck?
I haven’t spoken to Maddox in months.
He tried at Christmas, but I never called him back.
And I don’t want to speak to him now.
I consider closing the door and locking it, but if he really wants in, the asshole will just pick the lock. Damn it.
I wait until he’s halfway to the door, then step outside in the cold. “Stop.”
“Get back inside, Cait. It’s fucking freezing out, and you don’t even have a coat on.” High-handed asshole.
He’s not wrong. It’s bitterly cold outside. But I will make Elsa look like a summer Sunday at the beach before I admit I’m cold. “What do you want, Maddox?”
“I want you to go inside and hear me out.” He blows on his hands, and I watch the cold air float off him before he shoves them into his peacoat. “Don’t be stubborn, Cait.”
“Don’t be a dick, Maddox.” I will outlast him if it’s the last damn thing I do. He hurt me. He hurt Callen. He could have been upset and handled it like an adult instead of throwing a temper tantrum. Yeah... I’m holding on to this grudge. “What do you want?”
“Fine. You want to do this out here?” He walks up the steps until we’re standing toe-to-toe on the porch. “We’ll do it out here. What do I need to do to fix this shit?”
“Not that,” I snap and go inside, letting the door slam shut behind me. But the asshole follows me in anyway. “I didn’t say you could come in.”
“Didn’t say I couldn’t either... What do you want to hear me say, Cait? That I’m sorry? I’m fucking sorry. Is that better?”
“No.” I spin on him, ready to scream, but that’s when I see it.
And damn him for letting me see it. He’s hurting too. Fucking asshole men.
