King of the Causeway: A King Series Novella (King #9.5)(6)

Preppy nods. “That’s right.”

Bo points to the TV. "But Disney movies are motherfucking awesome because behind all the singing and princesses, they’re really morbid. Did you know that Moana is one of the few Disney movies where the parents don't die in the beginning? Although the grandma kicks it, but then, she becomes a stingray, so that’s pretty awesome.”

"Yeah, it is pretty awesome,” I reply. I look from Bo to Preppy. “You know, he might not be your blood, but he is so your kid.” I chuckle. “In every way.”

"Yeah, yeah he is. But, he's smarter than I'll ever be,” Preppy says, staring at his son.

"I think he’s smarter than any of us will ever be,” I add.

Bo takes a handful of popcorn and shoves it into his mouth. “That’s true because my IQ is one fifty six. Technically, I’m smarter than 97% of the population will ever be.'' He turns back to the movie.

“He’s right. We need to work on our whispering skills,” I whisper as low as I can manage. “You know, it’s crazy seeing you as a dad, Preppy. Do you ever miss the way things were before you had kids?”

Preppy frowns. “What? Like do I miss having sex with anyone and anything in any manner of my choosing without giving a fuck if it’s wrong or right or demented?”

“Something like that.”

“Nope. And let’s face it, in most ways, I’m still the same ole me. I’m married, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t find most bitches––I mean, women––sexy as fuck anymore. And it doesn’t mean that I still don’t want to do horrible, deplorable, dirty—”

I cut him off. “I get it.”

“The only difference is that now I only want to do those things with Doc.” He looks to where the twins are both asleep on their stomachs next to the equally passed out Max and Sammy, then back to Bo, who has a notebook on his lap, scribbling in the pages. “You already know I didn’t have a family growing up. Now, I get to be in one. My only goal is not to fuck them up too much and let them be themselves.”

Tears well up in my eyes. I try to hide them by turning back to the tv while willing them away.

Preppy pauses his hands on my foot. “You okay, kid? You seem a bit off, and I’m an expert at sexual frustration, but this seems like something else. You normally laugh when I say stupid shit, and now the laugh either isn’t there or…I don’t know, just not what it used to be.”

Great, another person that’s going to be asking me if I’m okay every twenty minutes. I force a smile. “I’m fine. I really am. It’s just a sweet movie. And you know, hormones and shit.” I sniffle.

Preppy’s frown says bullshit, and I can feel his gaze penetrating my fa?ade through my temple. “It wasn’t that sweet. And I’m not just talking about today either. You’ve been like this for a while now.”

“Like what?”

“Like your best friend died, but I already did that so…what is it?”

I don’t answer because I’m not sure how to answer. The same reason I haven’t explained it to King. How can I explain to them a feeling that I don’t quite understand myself? Plus, I know how heavy the weight of worry feels, and I don’t want to pass it off to them and have them concerned about me when I’m not even sure there’s a reason to be concerned.

Preppy snaps his fingers. “Wait, I know. You didn’t laugh as much because you’re afraid that you’re gonna pee. That happened to Dre when she was pregnant and laughed too hard. A little after she was pregnant, too. She was embarrassed, but I didn’t mind. I actually kinda like it when—”

“It’s nothing,” I blurt, not wanting to hear the end of that sentence although mentally I’ve already heard it all. “I’ve just been a little tired.”

He doesn’t look convinced. “You sure?”

I smile and try to make it as genuine as I can muster. “I’m sure. Plus, pregnancy mixed with exhaustion equals emotional. I’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“I tell you what. You go to bed, and try to rest. I’ll finish the movie with the kids, and I’ll wait for boss man to get home before we head out.”

I’m about to argue with him when he insists. “Bed, kid. Now. If not, I’ll have to consult with that barbarian of a husband of yours, and you’ll be accosted with the Brantley King edition of the inquisition until one or both of you dies from mental exhaustion.”

I don’t want to have the same conversation with King again. I don’t like lying to him, but I am fine. Or, I will be fine.

Or I hope I’ll be fine.

I concede to Preppy’s offer and maneuver my huge belly so I can shift to the side and stand from the couch. “Thank you.”

I’m halfway down the hall when I hear Preppy. Again, Bo was right. He does need to work on his whispering skills. “Okay, kids. She’s gone. Who wants some cocaine?”

I look over my shoulder and find Preppy silently laughing at his own joke. “They’re all asleep,” he continues, pointing to the floor. “And you, of all people, know I’d never give my blow to kids. They ain’t got no money or collateral.”





Chapter 3