“It’s a boy,” Asher says, his hand moving to her waist. Trevor starts laughing, along with Cash and Nico. “I made sure to do it on the right side,” Asher says deadpan, glaring at his brothers. I start laughing so hard that tears slide down my cheeks.
“We know, honey,” November says, patting Asher’s chest.
“Well, whatever it ends up being, congrats, guys. That’s awesome,” Trevor says, hugging November, and then patting his brother on the back. When Trevor looks at me, he smiles, making a knot form in my stomach. The look in his eyes says a lot more than I want to hear. I try to shake myself out of the feeling.
“That’s so exciting,” I cry, clapping my hands. “Let’s have a drink. I mean, you can’t drink because you’re, you know, but I—um—I’ll be back,” I sputter out, needing to get away from Trevor and the look on his face.
“Are you okay?” Nico asks, leaning on the bar next to me.
“Yeah,” I say, signaling the bartender. When she finally gets to me, I ask for a shot of tequila.
“Tequila?” Nico asks, his eyebrows drawn together.
“Yep.” I tip the shot back without salt or lime, then tap the glass, signaling for a refill. I start to lift it to my mouth, when it’s taken from my hand from over my shoulder, and given to Nico. “That’s mine.” I pout as Nico takes my shot.
“We’re going home,” Trevor says, wrapping an arm around my waist.
“No, I’m spending time with everyone.”
“You were, then you ran off; now we’re going home.”
“Can you not be a jerk?”
“We have plans tomorrow morning, so we need to leave anyways.”
“I can have Nico drop me off at home if you’re leaving,” I suggest.
“No, you can’t have Nico drop you off at home,” Nico says, laughing.
“Fine.” I walk back to the table, grabbing my purse. “I guess we’re leaving,” I tell November, who looks at my face, then at Trevor, and starts laughing.
“That’s fine. We need to leave as well,” November says, getting off her barstool. “But we will see you this weekend for the party, right?” she asks, looking at me, and I have no idea what she’s talking about.
“What party?” I ask, then look around when I notice that everyone has gotten quiet.
“Oh, it’s not a party; it’s a—um—Bar-B-Que,” Asher says, cutting in.
“We’ll be there,” Trevor says, glaring at everyone before pulling me out the door behind him.
“I didn’t know we were going to a Bar-B-Que this weekend,” I tell him, as he lifts me up into the truck and buckles me in.
“It slipped my mind,” he tells me, kissing my forehead.
“Oh,” I say, laying my head on his shoulder, relaxing into his side once he starts the truck. The tequila is making me feel all warm and fuzzy. I’m such a lightweight.
“Why is it that every time someone talks about kids, you panic?”
I sit up; I knew this day was coming. “I told you before, I don’t want kids.”
“I want kids, Liz, and I know that you do too. I see the longing in your face anytime you hold July, or even when you met Kara and noticed she was pregnant.”
I do want them; deep down there is nothing I want more then to be a mother. But I can’t do it; I can’t have children, and then leave them behind. “I told you before, Trevor, that if that was a deal breaker for you, then you should get out before feelings were involved.”
“Tell me that you never want kids.”
“I…” I can’t say it; the words just won’t come out.
“We are going to make beautiful babies, and you are going to be an awesome mom,” he says, kissing the top of my head. My stomach is in knots, my palms sweating. I want to tell him so badly that I don’t want kids, but I can’t. When I think about having a little boy, with big brown eyes and long dark lashes, who looks just like Trevor, I can’t tell him that I don’t want that. I lay my head back on his shoulder, clearing my mind of everything except the alcohol coursing through my system. When we finally pull up to the house, I go straight to the bathroom, change into pajamas, and get into bed. When I’m almost asleep, Trevor gets into bed, tucking me under him like he always does. I feel him kiss the top of my head, and hear him tell me he loves me, right before I fall asleep.
“Tell me again why I have to wear a blindfold?” I ask Trevor, who is carrying me somewhere. I had gotten up this morning, alone in the house. At first, I thought he was mad about last night and decided to cut his losses, but then I wandered into the kitchen and there was a pot of coffee waiting for me, along with a note telling me that he had gone for a run. I was on my second cup of coffee when he came into the house, his white t-shirt plastered to his body with sweat. He was pulling it off as he walked into the kitchen, without realizing that I was there, unaware that he was putting on a show.