Crushed - Pamela Ann Page 0,1

him? Couldn’t I have chosen someone at least worthy of my affections, someone who wasn’t obsessed with someone else the way I was overpowered with my love for him? I wasn’t one to voice my problems, but I was the doomed one out of all of us. My family couldn’t care less if I was dying or dead in a ditch somewhere. That was just how my life was, and I had accepted that.

My disheartening thoughts had to wait for a little while longer because Emma took that moment to join Trista and me while we were eating our dessert. Emma, who was basked in the infamous pregnancy glow, seemed a little distracted as she sat next to me, sighing before she decided to take my glass of iced water and gulp it down as if she was dying of thirst.

“It’s so hot. I feel as if I’m melting out here.” Her airy comment made us both glance at her as she lifted her head towards the sunset, partially fanning herself.

She made even pregnancy look glamorous. Emma Anderson was one of those women people envied and loved. Whatever circumstances I found her in—whether it be crying, laughing, making silly faces, seductively dancing, hysterical—she was always gorgeous. Not only that, but she also had a heart of gold, and even though she had come into our group a little later, I loved her just as much. She was a good friend, one who didn’t judge me and was always there to count on, and I wouldn’t have her any other way.

My gaze dropped to her protruding belly, finding myself whimsically smiling right as I heard Trista clear her throat.

“You sure it’s the balmy weather, Ems?” Trista teased.

I cocked my head towards her, raising my brow. Leave it to dear old Trista to stir the pot.

Emma made a face, sighing as she addressed Miss Redhead. “Shut up, Tris. Now’s not the time to mess with me. It’s Lindsey’s wedding, so let’s just enjoy that, shall we?”

Confused by their odd exchange, I directed a pleading look at both of them. “Umm, can someone fill me? In case no one noticed, I’m sort of lost here.”

Trista’s eyes glittered before she snorted a laugh, as if I was the most amusing thing she had seen today. “Fucking Hell, Amber, where the hell have you been? Haven’t you seen the way Carter’s been throwing looks at her?”

Carter Mason, Lindsey’s big brother. Right.

“He was?” I frowned, beyond confused why Carter was, well, being plain ol’ Carter. “But Emma’s married and pregnant…” to Mister Bass freaking Cole.

“My thoughts exactly.” Trista snickered before plucking her champagne flute to toast to against my empty one.

“Ugh. Men are a hopeless bunch.” If Carter was that way, I didn’t have to imagine what Brody would be like once he saw Lindsey again. Pregnant or not, their hearts were spoken for, and there was nothing I could do to make that go away. God knew I had tried.

Emma was in the throes of a mini panic attack, glaring at both of us since we were talking about her as if she wasn’t even there. “Will you guys hush it?” she whispered in a hiss. “People will hear, and the last thing I need is gossip. Bass has been through enough with my Carter drama. I don’t want him to think this baby isn’t his, and with the way you two are going, people might think I’m having an affair with my ex.”

“It is Bass’s, right?” Trista raised her brow, unperturbed.

“God, Trista…” My mouth hung ajar, stunned at her audacity to ask such a direct question, while Emma froze, probably insulted by the damning question.

Trista innocently blinked at us. “What? It’s a valid question!”

Emma’s cheeks were painted beet red as she tried to hush Trista down.

It was valid, but this wasn’t the place to discuss it. Why couldn’t she have waited until we were back in Santa Barbara, back in our place, to open this discussion with coffee and ice cream while all of us argued our case like we normally did on girl’s night?

“Trista! You can’t just blurt shit like that. What the fuck!”

Trista merely shrugged, giving me a penetrating look. “Oh, come on, don’t tell me the thought has never occurred to you?”

“I’m right here!” Emma grunted out, losing her temper. “It’s Bass’s, okay?” she harrumphed as calmly and as dignified as she could.

Trista nodded, beaming at her. Of course, her being Trista, she just couldn’t let one slide when she could