Текст книги "Forever with You"

Автор книги: Jennifer L. Armentrout

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

“No matter what you choose, no matter what option you’re going to go with, I will love and support you either way,” she stated, and the tears filled my eyes then. “You decide you’re not ready for this, I’ll be right there with you if you want me to be. And if you decide you want to go through with this and have that baby, I’m going to be a proud grandmother—a damn good-looking grandmother, too.”

I laughed shakily as a tear snuck free and coursed down my cheek.

Mom caught that tear with her thumb. “No matter what, I love you and I will always be proud of you.”

Chapter 13

I made it back to Plymouth Meeting by noon on Sunday, and while I was still freaking out every couple of minutes, I had a better grasp on things. Going home to my mother was the smartest thing I could’ve done.

Hearing her and being around her, spending Saturday curled up on the couch watching movies and pigging out, had helped ground me. We had talked about it, that evening over sundaes, going over the . . . the choices I had and their ramifications. There was no doubt in my mind that she had meant what she said. No matter what I decided or what happened, she would support me.

Though when I left a few hours ago, I could tell she had visions of onesies dancing in her head as she stood at the door, holding Loki in her arms.

My apartment was chilly when I stepped inside. Taking my bag to my bed, I dropped it off and then turned around, heading for the thermostat in the hallway. I cranked it up and then ate the cold-cut sub I’d picked up on the way back.

When it was close to one, I picked up my phone and brought it to the couch with me. I figured Nick had worked last night and I hoped that I wasn’t about to wake him up with my text. Of course, I could call him, but that would seem odd since neither of us had ever called one another before, and I could imagine him pushing until I told him what was up over the phone.

Hey, you around?

I winced after I sent the text, because how lame was Hey when I was about to deliver news he could not have ever expected. A handful of moments passed before I got a response.

I thought you didn’t like me anymore.

He had to be talking about the fact I’d ignored his last text. I was about to respond but he beat me to it.

I’ve been living in this dark, dark place.

My brows rose.

Another text came through. Not eating. Not sleeping.

“What the . . . ?” I whispered.

So, so sad. I shaved my head bald.

There was a pause. I’m totally just kidding.

A startled laugh erupted.

And all of that was probably creepy, huh? Yeah, I’m here. What’s up?

Despite everything, I smiled as I shook my head. He was . . . Nick was a handful. I finally sent him back a text. Is there any way I can see you today? I paused and then added, It’s important.

Several moments passed before I got a response. Sure. I can be there around three?

I’d texted back letting him know that was okay, and the next two hours were filled with antsy pacing. When he knocked on my door, a few minutes past three, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I hurried to the door, opening it.

Seeing Nick after almost two weeks had passed was like laying eyes on him the first time. Dark hair brushed his forehead, the ends curling slightly. His hair was growing, I realized. Those light green eyes were warm and curious as they drifted over my face, and his smile was lopsided. The white thermal he wore stretched over his broad shoulders, and as my gaze dipped, I could see that his hard chest was outlined. He had to have one hell of a workout plan, but I wasn’t sure how he stayed in shape.

I was pregnant with . . . his kid, and I hardly knew anything about him.

God, that was like dunking your face in ice water.

“Hey,” he said, stepping inside. “Sorry I’m late. There was an accident. Took a while to get around it.”

“It’s okay.” I closed the door, ignoring my pounding heart. “Would you like something to drink?”

His curious gaze stayed with me. “Sure. What do you have?”

“Um. Soda. OJ.” I started for the fridge, wishing I had something harder for him to drink. “I have sweet tea.”

“That’ll work.”

Busying myself with getting him a glass, I tried to act normal. “Did you work last night?”

“Yeah.” Without looking at him, I knew he was just outside the kitchen, watching me. “I got off at one. Right now, I’m only working Thursday through Saturday.”

“Is that enough hours?” I faced him, and sort of wished I hadn’t asked that. Then again, it was sort of necessary. “I mean, Roxy works four days there, doesn’t she? Ten hour shifts.”

“She does.” He took the drink, eyeing me. “I only need to work those days right now.”

What did that mean? I knew Roxy made decent money bartending, but she also did graphic design and that kind of stuff on the side. How much money was Nick bringing in if he only needed to work three days? Or maybe he didn’t need to work a lot because he could still live at home with his parents, for all I knew.

Oh shit. What if he still lived at home?

I recalled him telling me that he had a college degree, so why was he working at a bar, only three days a week? God, I had so many questions.

“Did you call me over to talk about my hours at the bar?” he asked, his lopsided grin spreading.

“No. I . . .” I cleared my throat as I slipped past him and walked to the couch, trying to clear my thoughts. He followed, sitting down on the edge. “That’s not the reason why I asked you to come over.”

His brows rose slightly as he took a sip of his tea. “I got to admit, the anticipation is killing me.”

I ran my hands down my denim clad thighs to keep them from shaking. I figured the best way to tell Nick would be like ripping a Band-Aid off. Make it quick and as painless as possible. My throat tightened. “I don’t know how to tell you this.” Pausing, I looked over at him. The easy grin had slipped a notch. “I’m . . . I’m pregnant.”

There. I said it.

The grin was completely gone from his face and he was staring at me like I’d spoken an entirely different language. I saw his hand spasm around the glass. He didn’t speak, but since I got the most important words out, there it was, like a plug had been yanked out of my throat.

“According to the tests I took, I’m around five weeks pregnant, which makes sense timing wise,” I continued in a rush. “I have a doctor’s appointment on Thursday, at noon, and I’m guessing they will confirm what I already know.”

Nick’s mouth moved for a few seconds but there were no immediate sounds. “I used a condom.” Those four words were hoarsely spoken. “I always use a condom.”

The muscles in my back stiffened as something I’d never even thought of just occurred to me. What if he didn’t believe he was the father? After all, what reason did he have, given how we got together? My heart started to pound. “I know, but the condom had to have broken, and looking back, it did feel . . . different afterward. I haven’t been with anyone else since you and it had been like six months before you. I take birth control pills, but when I was getting ready to move, I missed some,” I rambled on. “I didn’t pay any attention to it, because I wasn’t with anyone until . . . until you.”

Nick looked away as he set his barely touched drink on the end table. “You’re sure you’re pregnant?”

“I took three tests.” I waited for him to ask if I was sure he was the father. That question would sting, but I expected it, and couldn’t really blame him for it.

“Oh, shit.” He pushed to his feet, thrusting a hand through his hair. “Oh, shit.”

“That pretty much sums it up.”

Nick glanced down at me, his pupils dilated, and then he looked away. He walked toward the door, and for a moment my heart stopped. I thought he was leaving, but he spun around. Pacing. He was pacing. “How long have you known? Is that why you didn’t return my text last week?”

His question caught me off guard. “I took the tests last Sunday—a week ago. I didn’t answer your text, because I . . . well, honestly, I hadn’t wrapped my head around it then. I didn’t know what to say to you.”

He faced me, his lips thin. “You should’ve told me the moment you found out.”

I jolted. Of all the things I expected him to say, that hadn’t been it. “I needed to talk to my mom first.”

Nick blinked, obviously surprised. He opened his mouth and then gave a little shake of his head. Lifting his hand, he rubbed the heel of his palm across his chest. I hoped he wasn’t having a heart attack. I kind of felt like I might have one.

“I’m sorry,” I said, because I didn’t know what else to say.

He turned away and tipped his head back, hands at his hips. “All right. I wasn’t expecting this. I need a moment.”

Understandable. I pulled my legs up, tucking them close to my chest as I rested my chin on my knees. I had an idea what he must be thinking. Lots of confusion and shock, I imagined. I was still shocked and I’d known for a week.

“Are you okay?” he asked suddenly, whipping back around to me. I stilled, surprised, as he sat back down on the couch. “That’s why you were sick the other week, wasn’t it? How are you feeling now?”

Shocked, all I could do was blink at him.

“Pregnant women get morning sickness, right? That’s why you were sick?”

I snapped out of it. “I think so, but it hasn’t been severe. It comes and goes throughout the day.”

He stared at me a moment and then cast his gaze to the floor. “You’re really pregnant.”

It didn’t sound like a question, so I didn’t answer.

“I’m . . . I’m going to have a kid.” Shock colored his tone, and I was glad he was sitting down now. “Oh, wow. I don’t . . . know what to say—wait.” He twisted toward me. “Wait. I’m getting ahead of myself. Do you want this baby?”

My entire body tensed and my throat sealed off as my pulse skyrocketed, turning my stomach upside down.

“Because I do,” he said, his gaze holding mine. “We created this baby, didn’t we? So I want this baby. You haven’t said if you do or not or what you plan.”

I felt my jaw loosen. No words rose to the tip of my tongue. I didn’t know what to say. Shock rippled through me, floored me. Nick wanted this baby? I hadn’t expected that. Oh no. I expected protests and so much surprise that we wouldn’t even get to this conversation today. I figured I was going to have to search his ass down after he ran for the hills, screaming.

His gaze sharpened. “I’m assuming you haven’t made up your mind or you plan on keeping the baby, because why else would you have told me. You could’ve just . . . you could’ve handled it without me ever knowing.”

“I couldn’t do that without talking to you.” My mouth felt dry, and I looked away. Everything seemed so . . . so real, which was stupid, because everything was real.

“You haven’t decided then?” He lurched to his feet and his hand went through his hair again. A moment passed. “Do you even want kids?” A choked laugh rattled out of him. “Fuck. Listen to us.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “I know.”

“Do you?” he persisted.

“Yes. I want kids.” I forced my eyes open just in time to catch a flicker of relief crossing his face. “But I thought I had time and I’d be married first. Or at least . . .”

“In love? With someone?”

I blinked and then whispered, “Yeah.”

Nick’s features softened before he dipped his chin. His shoulders rose with a deep breath. “I can take care of this baby—I can take care of you, Stephanie.”

Holy crap.

My eyes widened, and I swore that my heart might’ve faltered a beat. “I don’t need you to take care of me, Nick. That’s not—”

“I know that’s not why you told me and I didn’t mean it like that. I know you probably don’t think much of me—”

“What?” My brows lifted. “That’s not true.”

He went on as if he hadn’t heard me. “—being that I bartend, but I can support you and this baby. I will. That’s not something you need to worry about.”

“How can I not?” The question escaped me before I could stop it.

“Trust me,” he said earnestly.

My stomach roiled. He was asking for some major trust there, but in the end, whether or not he could help support this child wasn’t going to determine if I kept this baby. Nick was right earlier, but it still hadn’t prepared me for his willingness to do this.

Nick actually wanted this baby.

A knot took form in my throat as emotions swirled violently inside me. Normally I was so in control, but everything that was going on had blown through my defenses. Unable to sit, I stood, and before I knew it I was in the kitchen, one hand on the edge of the counter and the other tugging at the collar of my shirt. It felt hot in here. Maybe I shouldn’t have cranked the heat up so much.

“Are you okay?” Nick’s voice was close.

“Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “I didn’t plan on getting pregnant. Obviously. And this couldn’t have happened at a worse time, and I feel shitty for even saying that, but I just started a new job and there is so much I want to do—planned to do—before having a child. I wanted to travel. I wanted to be stable . . .” Well, the rest of what I wanted was right in everyone’s face. “And I . . .”

A hand gently settled on my shoulder, turning me around. I swallowed hard as I lifted my gaze. Light green eyes bored into mine. “And what?” Nick asked.

“I didn’t plan on this,” I repeated as my heart thumped in my chest. “But I want this . . . I want this baby.”

Something I couldn’t quite read flickered in his eyes as he wrapped his hand around my wrist, pulling my fingers away from the collar of my shirt. “Then we’re on the same page.”

“We are,” I whispered as my gaze dropped to where he still held my wrist between us. “This . . . this isn’t going to be easy, Nick.”

“There isn’t anything about what is happening that’s going to be easy. You didn’t have any siblings, right?” When I shook my head, a wry grin appeared. “Neither do I. Any experience with babies?”

My heart was doing that horrible pounding again. “Nope.”

“Me neither.”

“Oh geez.”

Nick laughed, and I couldn’t believe he could laugh right now. “It can’t be that hard.”

“I’m going to have to thoroughly disagree with that,” I said wryly.

“We’ll figure this out.” His eyes searched mine when I lifted my gaze. “We will. You and I. Together. We can do this.”

Together.

That one word was like having my entire chest placed inside a juice grinder. Together. Besides my mom and my friends, when had I ever approached anything in unity with someone else—with a guy? Not since high school, and really, one couldn’t count that as an example.

My thoughts were still whirling and the knot was lodged in my throat, going nowhere. How I planned my entire life had veered off course in one of the most important ways. I had no idea what to expect now, not a week or a month from now, especially not a year from now.

Everything had changed, and I was . . .

“I’m scared,” I whispered as my chest squeezed.

Nick didn’t respond. Not vocally. The hand on my shoulder slid around to the nape of my neck as he dropped my other hand. Without saying a word, he hauled me against his chest and his arms circled me. Stiffening in his hold, I inhaled deeply. He smelled fresh, like spring, and as he dropped his chin to the top of my head, I slammed my eyes shut against the burn.

But I wasn’t just scared of having a baby. God, that did scare the living hell out of me, because I wasn’t sure if I’d be a good mother, if I would raise a kid right, but the fear swirling around in me like a dusty, dark cloud was twofold.

Because as I stood there, stiff and awkward, my arms clamped to my sides, in Nick’s embrace, it was hard—too hard—to look at him objectively. To separate the situation we were in and how that made me feel toward Nick, and what had existed between us before I found out that I was pregnant.

Realization was hard to swallow, but I forced myself to acknowledge what I felt every time someone mentioned his name—that tightening in my chest and stomach, the unnerving and unfamiliar sense of anticipation that always accompanied how I felt. We were obviously very attracted to one another on a pure, visceral level, but I also remembered Nick’s words the night he’d came to apologize.

He wished we were different.

Did that mean he wished for something more? But he had wanted to try to be friends with me, something he’d apparently never done before. And how did I feel? Could I feel more for him?

As his hand slowly moved up my spine in a smooth, comforting gesture, I felt my heart trip over itself in response. Yeah, I could . . . I could feel more.

Maybe . . . maybe this was it. Maybe this attraction, the simmering chemistry, would transform into something far, far deeper. Maybe he was the . . . the one.

Seconds ticked by and my muscles slowly loosened. Tentatively, I lifted my hands and placed them on his waist. The embrace wasn’t perfect, but as my cheek eased against his chest, I wasn’t sure if either of us were capable of perfect now or if it even mattered. We were virtual strangers, with our own issues and pasts, who believed we were being responsible, only to find out life had completely different plans that neither of us foresaw.

And the hug might not seem like a big deal, but it was a start, a beginning of our linked futures.

Chapter 14

“I would like a rib-eye, medium. . . .” My gaze flicked from the young waitress to the menu. Was I not supposed to eat possibly undercooked foods now that I was pregnant? I had no idea. I needed to Google this shit. Sighing, I closed the menu. Safety over taste. “I’ll go with medium well.”

“Is that how you normally eat steak?” Nick asked as the waitress moved away.

I shook my head. “I normally eat it like you do—medium rare, but I’m not sure if I should be eating meat like that now.”

Sitting across from me, he picked up his glass of water. “Maybe we need to get a manual or something.”

“I think we do.” Grinning, I fiddled with the edge of the cloth that had been rolled around the silverware. “I’m sure there’s one out there.”

After what wasn’t the most awkward hug in history, Nick had asked if I was hungry. Instead of explaining that I just ate, I decided to go with whatever he was suggesting, because we needed to talk. A half an hour later we ended up at the Outback not too far from Mona’s.

“You said you have a doctor’s appointment, right?” he asked. “This week? I want to go with you.”

For the hundredth time today, astonishment winged its way through me. I settled back against the booth. “You don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t have to.” Nick frowned, and damn, even with a pretty decent frown on his face, he still was strikingly handsome. “But I want to.”

Something warmed in my chest, but I ignored it. “It’s just a general doctor. They’re just going to tell me I’m pregnant and that I’ll need to see an OB/GYN.”

“Then why not go ahead and set that appointment up?” His gaze was steady, searching. “Why go to a general doc when you already know what they’re going to say?”

Damn. He had a good point.

“I have a good point, huh?”

My eyes narrowed. “Can you read minds?”

“No.” He laughed. “I’m just logical.”

“Whatever,” I sighed. “Okay. I can make an OB/GYN appointment tomorrow. Well, hopefully find one.”

He smiled briefly. “I can be available whenever. You let me know. I can drive you or meet you there.”

“Okay.” Folding my arms over my stomach, I peeked up and found him watching me. “Are you . . . you going to tell your family?”

The line of his jaw hardened. “No.”

His response was so quick it was cutting. “Okay.”

“Dammit.” He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t have any immediate family—not any that would care.”

I tipped my head to the side. “What does that mean?”

“A lot.” He rested his chin in his hand and his fingers obscured the well-formed mouth. “I’m not close to my extended family. I don’t even know if they still live around here. Are you planning on telling Roxy?”

Knowing he’d changed the subject on purpose, I struggled to let it go. Things were very new to us and our steps were tentative. If he didn’t want to divulge that information right now, fine, but he would have to eventually. “I hadn’t thought about it. Were you?”

“I was going to leave that up to you, but I don’t think it’s something I could keep secret from everyone,” he reasoned. “I’ll have to let Jax know if I need time off or something, but he’d keep it secret.”

“He might tell Calla. I mean, they’re together and I’m sure they talk. Then if she knows, there’s a good chance she’ll let it slip.” I bit down on my lip. “We don’t have to tell them anything right now, though.”

He nodded. “Nothing needs to be said at the moment, but what about your job? How do you think they’re going to handle it?”

“Ugh.” I plopped my chin into my hands. “I don’t even want to think about it and I have no idea how they’ll respond. I guess I still have some time before I tell them.”

Nick raised a dark brow. “I don’t think you want to drop a pregnancy bomb on them a few months before you’re due.”

“I know, but I’m barely a month, so I have time.” I wrinkled my nose when he raised both brows. “And I really don’t need to tell them for a long time, right? It’s not like I’m delaying the inevitable.”

“Huh.”

My eyes narrowed again. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing.” There was a brief pause. “You’re not delaying the inevitable here. You don’t have to tell them yet. I mean, I think women wait for a while, but you just don’t strike me as the type who delays anything. You seem like you meet most things head on.”

“Obviously you don’t know me well.” Immediately, I recognized the snottiness in my tone.

Nick’s fingers lowered from his mouth, revealing a half smile. “That’s what we’re doing, aren’t we? Getting to know each other.”

Kind of felt like we were just scraping at each other’s surface and not going any deeper. “We do need to.” I softened my tone.

“Agreed.” Suddenly, he reached across the table with his long arm. His hand cupped my cheek, and I stilled, holding my breath as he swept his thumb along my chin. “You had a piece of lint there.”

My pulse fluttered. “I did?”

“Yeah.” His lashes lowered, shielding his eyes. “Not anymore.”

“That’s good,” I whispered, the fluttering expanding. “Are you searching for more lint?”

Nick chuckled deeply, and the sound elicited a fine shiver out of me. “Maybe.” His voice had changed, sluicing over my skin like warm water. “Lint are tricky little beasts. But I think I’d have to do a more thorough search.” His lips curled fully as he removed his hand. “Just to make sure you’re lint free in all the important areas.”

I grinned. “You’re so helpful.”

“That I am.” He tilted his head to the side and the low light glanced off his high cheekbones. “Anyway. We need to figure each other out. We are stuck with one another for like . . . well, forever now.”

A wave of prickly heat washed over my skin, eroding the sensual warmth of his teasing. A bitter-edged hurt I didn’t fully understand replaced it, and my mouth immediately formed words. “I guess you need to start buying better condoms then, huh?”

The grin twisted into something wry. “I guess you need to pay better attention to taking your pills, huh?”

Touché.

We both scored points there.

“Look. We need to make this work.” He pressed back against the seat, his eyes chilly compared to earlier. “And pointing fingers at one another for this isn’t going to do us any favors. There’s a lot we need to figure out—a lot of important things like child care, how we’re going to raise this kid—the money it’s going to take. I’m not sure about the legalities involved in all of that, but we’re going to need to figure it out.”

The prickly heat spread, and I wished I was outside, letting the cold wind chill my body and erase the sting. I felt myself nod, but I couldn’t get the word “stuck” out of my head. Being “stuck” with someone didn’t allude to anything deeper. What the hell was I thinking earlier, when Nick had hugged me? That we could somehow grow to really care for each other, maybe even . . . maybe even love one another in the way I’d always hoped I’d fall for someone?

I was a fucking idiot.

Nick and I had sex. Now we were dealing with the consequences. Emotions weren’t involved in this. Nope. Not at all.

He looked away, a muscle ticking along his jaw. The food arrived, but my stomach had soured.

Well, that new beginning didn’t feel too shiny now.

The stack of fresh binders wobbled in my arms as I navigated the cubicles Monday afternoon. The revamped HR manual had been completed, but now they needed new binders, because of reasons. The plastic, chemical scent turned my sensitive stomach and I was half tempted to throw them into the stockroom, but once again, there were reasons why that wouldn’t be acceptable behavior.

I stacked them on the center shelf, spines facing out, and then smoothed down the front of my blouse. A different scent overpowered the chemical one, something too musky. Turning around, I almost threw myself on the floor and started flailing like a two-year-old.

Rick stood in the doorway, his flushed face and beady eyes a very unwelcome sight. He was the source of the newest stomach-turning aroma. Some days it smelled like he bathed in cologne. He smirked.

I sighed.

Today was not a good day.

My shitastic mood kicked off in the morning when I tried to slip on this extremely cute pin-striped pencil skirt. I’d gotten it up my thighs and over my hips but when I tried to zip it up, it cut into my stomach and stretched the seams.

Then, after experiencing the very first pregnancy-related clothing failure first thing in the morning, my stomach was not a happy camper the entire rainy commute to work. Not having had the foresight to check on what pregnant folk could use to deal with nausea, I just had to suffer until I got home. My paranoia would not allow me to Google that info while I was at work.

Since my stomach felt like it was just bubbling with bile, I couldn’t eat much for lunch, which made me hangry—hungry and angry at the same time. But that wasn’t the main source of discontent during lunch. I’d hidden in my car and started calling OB/GYNs, and dear God in heaven, was everyone in the county pregnant and in need of a baby doctor? I had to make six different calls to find a doctor who could see me by the second week of November.

The second week of November!

Holy crap, by my calculations, I’d be around eight weeks pregnant by then. Eight weeks! That was two months and some spare change. What in the hell was I supposed to do between now and then?

There were a lot of things I could screw up in two and half months.

But I made the appointment, and then, even though the dinner with Nick last night had gone downhill as quickly as a zombie apocalypse would, I texted him the date and time I’d scheduled my first appointment.

No response.

Not a damn thing.

Oh, he wanted to be involved and we needed to be in this together because we were stuck together, but that text message was three hours ago, and he still hadn’t responded? We were getting off to a great start.

Granted, for all I knew, something could be going on, but my shitty day was just shitacular and logic wouldn’t do anything but make me angrier.

And now I had Rick staring at me like the dickhead he was.

I stalked toward the door, planning to punch him in the balls if he didn’t move out of the way or brushed against me again, but as I neared him, he stepped to the side. Rick said nothing as I all but stomped past him, out the door, holding my breath so I didn’t choke on the cologne. He just stood there, like a creep, staring at me.

Creeper-mc-asshole.

I’d neared my desk when Marcus’s door flew open, rattling the edges. My eyes widened as I jerked to a stop. Andrew Lima raced out of the office, hauling butt to the main doors. Marcus was right behind him. Andrew’s daughter—the quiet Jillian, darted out next.

“What happened?” I asked, my hand fluttering to my stomach for some unknown reason.

As I jerked my hand away, the gesture went unnoticed. Jillian’s face was leeched of all blood as she hurried past me. “It’s Brock,” she said, her dark eyes shiny with tears. “He’s been hurt.”