HOW TO CATCH A BAD BOY

“Emily,” Elena warned. “You paused. Why did you pause?”

She scrunched up her face. “Did I?”

Elena sat forward. “Oh my gosh, what is it? Are you moving out of town? Are you leaving? Are you sick?”

“Slow your roll, crazy,” Emily said on a laugh. “I’m not sick, good grief.”

Her heart settled back into a normal rhythm. “Well, it’s something.”

“I didn’t want to say anything with all the feelings and everything that’s been going on.” Emily gestured to Elena. “But…. I’m pregnant,”

“What?” Elena shrieked excitedly, and hugged her sister tightly. “Congratulations. You should have told me since,”

“Well, I was going to… But then I screwed up so I had to fix things first,”

Elena beamed at her, “You and Daniel are going to be so happy, and I’m going to be the best Aunt ever,”

“So you’re coming right?”

“Do you really have to ask? Of course I am coming.” She hesitated for a while, then added, “Will Chandler be there?” she asked carefully. “It’s not that I’d … I don’t know, avoid going if he was, but I don’t know if that’s the place I want to see him for the first time.”Belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

Emily gave her a squeeze, and her heart gave a weird hiccup thinking about Chandler doing the same thing. “I’ll check with Elijah. I’d honestly like him to come. If you don’t mind, but if you do, then I can easily uninvite him,”

Elena shook her head and grabbed her hands. “It’s alright, Emily. It’s your party and you can invite him. Whether he shows up or not shouldn’t be my business.”

Emily wrapped Elena up in a tight hug. “Nothing we need to worry about right now. Let’s get some of that alcohol that will make you feel better, okay?”

_________

“Well, that was stupid.”

Chandler rolled his eyes at Paul’s tone, wincing as he poured hydrogen peroxide down the road burn on his calf. It hissed and bubbled, and Paul leaned in to look at the damage.

“It wasn’t stupid,” he told Paul . “I’ve biked that trail many times.”

Paul’s eyebrows, bushy and out of control, rose incrementally on his forehead. “A few days after a monster snowstorm just melted down, and they’re covered in mud?”

Chandler straightened his leg, satisfied when the muscles stretched without further pain.

“You’re lucky you didn’t break a bone, you moron.”

“Who invited you here again?” he muttered.

Paul walked out of the kitchen, waving his hand at Chandler like he was a lost cause, only stopping when he saw the empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s sitting on the floor next to the trash can. He shook his head but didn’t say anything.

Which was good, because for six days, he’d been one hair shy of snapping at anyone who came too close. He felt like Agnes.

“Thanks for checking on my cat while I was gone,” he said as he sank into the leather chair next to the loveseat. He always took Chandler’s chair. He really needed to stop inviting him over.

“Oh, it was my pleasure.” His tone was caustic, and he couldn’t stop it. For six days, long and endless and horrible, he’d done his very best to ignore everything that had preceded it.

Eventually, he’d be able to get the thought of Elena out of his head. Eventually, he would be able to drink enough that he wouldn’t dream of her. Eventually, he would work himself hard enough that all the blood in his veins would be focused on keeping his heart working instead of screaming at him that he was the biggest fucking idiot in the entire world for how he’d acted.

But it wasn’t happening yet.

He’d been in this situation before over her, and although his plan to get over her had not worked, this time it had to. It had to because he’d blown it for real this time.

When he ignored Elijah’s calls all week, he hadn’t felt the slightest shred of guilt.

When Paul’s went unanswered too, he showed up at his doorstep, and now guilt was all he felt.

“You’re a peach today,” Paul said. From the end table next to him, he picked up a dirty plate and grimaced at what was left on the surface. “What happened while I was gone?”

Chandler slammed the kitchen cupboard closed once the peroxide was back on the shelf. “Nope. Not talking about it.”

He hooted. “Oh man, whoever she was, she did a number on you, didn’t she?”

Coming around the corner, he pointed a finger at him. “Look here man, did I just say I didn’t want to talk to you or anyone about it?”

“Tough shit, bro.” He held up his hands. “I don’t see anyone else lining up to help you with your problems.”

“You sound so much like Elijah, and I don’t have any problems, except that I left half my leg on the road.”

Whistling under his breath, Paul folded his arms and gave him that stare that he hated so much. It was a stare he reserved for moments when he thought Chandler was being unnecessarily stubborn, when he wouldn’t work on a project that he thought he was ready for. When he wouldn’t push himself as hard as he knew he could be pushed. Normally, it took a while, but he’d begrudgingly admit that he was right.

But this time, Chandler met his stare with his own. He knew this man as well as he knew anyone, and when he saw the disappointment in his eyes, he was the first to look away. The screen on his phone lit up on the coffee table, and Paul leaned forward to squint at the screen.

“Golden Boy,” he read. His eyes lifted to Chandler’s. “Says four missed calls.”

Chandler leaned his head back against the couch and closed his eyes. “Yeah, he’s been a real pain in my ass this week. Not the only one, I might add.”

“Oh geez, people are worried about you. How rough you have it.”

Opening his eyes, he pointed at the phone. “He’s not worried about me. He is trying to cover his ass because if it weren’t for him, I’d actually be …” He stopped himself before he blurted it out. If it weren’t for him, he’d actually be happy right now. He’d be with Elena. He could’ve spent the past six days with Elena, getting to know her, talking to her on the phone, seeing her in his bed.