“I’m not really a fan of babies. I don’t know how you do it. I mean, I like my family’s kids, I love them. But I’m not overly fond of little babies and kids in general. I don’t see that happening for me for a long, long time, or if ever.” I shrug as a matter of fact, my nerves and combined guilt giving me verbal diarrhea, and Arrick’s insistence on carrying on a conversation with Nathan, makes me feel like I should fill the awkward gap between Natasha and me.

“You sound like him.” She prods Arrick in the arm and he looks down at us nonplussed.

“What? What sounds like me?” He’s obviously caught the tail end of what we are talking about and leans in as she repeats it, to hear her over the thrum of music that’s getting a little louder from the dancefloor below this VIP area.

“That you don’t seem too hyped about babies in the near future.” She smiles up at him shyly, eyes not concealing the sheer adoration and infatuation she has for him, and yet his face falters.

He frowns, half smiling, and catches my eye before he looks away. Unreadable, good old Arry. I notice the crushed expression hit Natasha’s face, and the way a blush

him.” I laugh to cover the awkwardness and notice Nathan seems to be peeling his beer label off, shifting from one foot to the other, and I wonder what I’m missing, what exactly they’ve been passing in terms of psychic

new mature niceness towards her has wiped out his need

me the pleading look, the ‘do as I ask and I will explain later’ face that he knows I have no defense against. Seeing Natasha like she is about to burst into a flood of tears makes me hesitate. I scan the women behind her, hoping to God one of her actual friends comes to pull her away, but

overly demonstrative with her, when I’m around, but right now, I’m getting weird vibes from him where she’s concerned. A part of

glazed. It has the same effect as a punch in the gut, knocking me for six with a sharp intake of breath.

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