Текст книги "Jerk"

Автор книги: Kat T. Masen

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

 

I was quiet the entire flight home, trying my damn hardest to ignore a dream that felt entirely real. Luckily, we weren’t sitting together; the overweight man next to me and his body odor were more pleasing than the Jerk himself.

At the airport, it was an obligatory goodbye before we parted our ways.

I made it my priority upon our return to attend the paternity test. It was the only communication we had, and even then, it was short and to the point. Soon he would have the answer he so desperately craved, and maybe luck would be on both our sides and it would be Jason’s. Yes, I was that fucked up that I prayed for the easier way out of this whole mess.

Days passed without us talking at work or even via text, and after a week, I let it all go. Whatever bond, friendship, or connection we had over that weekend had passed. It was strictly business, and even then he wouldn’t make eye contact with me. I wasn’t sure what I did wrong; after all, he was the one who invaded my dreams and gave me the best sex of my life.

Distracting myself came easy when I focused my energy on moving into Kate’s. Boxes were all packed and ready to go, neatly organized into categories, color-coded, and alphabetically in order. I placed the remaining boxes into storage along with some furniture till I could figure out my next move. The apartments were overpriced in the city, and while we got top dollar for ours, I had a child to think about. A whole new life I had to worry about for at least eighteen years.

It begged the question of whether or not I would settle down in the city. I did have a job to think about, but was certain I could pick one up on the west coast. I also took the liberty of researching my rights as the primary parent, and whether or not I could make a decision like that.

Still in my second trimester, what I thought would be a walk in the park was turning out to be more like a trip down Agony Lane. My ankles (or should I say cankles) disappeared, along with my waistline. The only thing that kept me sane was Kate. She was a hell of a lot of fun, told ridiculous stories about herself and her wild friends, plus she was a great listener.

“So did the Jerk speak to you today?” she asks, biting into a stick of celery.

“Yes. But it was only to ask me where we kept the scissors in the stationary room. Trust me, it was as formal as any stationary room exchange could be.”

“Then you didn’t tell him about the scan next week? Presley, I can come if you need me,” she offers.

I have learned a very important thing about Kate; she is a great friend. Not only does she listen to me complain about the Jerk for countless hours, she is willing to rearrange her schedule to attend my appointment with me. In all fairness, I spent countless hours listening to the drama unfold with her secret lover. The thing I didn’t get about the whole situation was why Kate allowed herself to be manipulated by this pathetic excuse of a man. She is gorgeous and tall with an athletic build. Her shimmering blonde hair is cut just below her chin, perfectly straightened like she just stepped out of a salon. She has these cute freckles that spread across her cheeks and nose, covering her pale British skin. Plus she has this cheeky smile, with a dimple on the left side of her face.

Yet something about this man, the power he held, or the fact that he was some secret underground boss, drew her in to the point that she was under his bewitching spell and couldn’t break free.

“I promise I’ll tell him, and thanks for the offer.”

“We have sucky love lives,” she complains, sinking into the couch with the remote.

“Yep, we sure do. What’s the latest on your secret mystery man?”

She lets out a huge sigh. “Nothing. I texted him and asked him if he wanted to have dinner tonight and he never responded.”

“So then why didn’t you call him?”

“Because he made it clear that he doesn’t date. He doesn’t do relationships. I was just hoping he might change for me.”

“Are you sure he isn’t gay, Kate?”

“Maybe. Who knows? He only wants to screw me from behind so what the hell does that mean? He is gay or he doesn’t like my face.”

I give her a sympathetic smile. “Why are you still hung up on him? You can have any guy, Kate. He sounds so—”

“Uninterested?”

I simply nod.

“Because, Presley, the way he makes me feel. Even though he acts that way, when we’re alone I feel so empowered. He teaches my body to do things I’ve never experienced, and sexually, he takes me to a level that is beyond words.”

I can hear it in her voice; it’s not love as such, but an uncanny connection to someone who’s unattainable.

The next day at work, I decide I need to ask the Jerk about the ultrasound. Somehow I chicken out again. So I text him from my desk to his, and throw in the invitation to a last-minute farewell lunch for Clive. Because that’s mature.

I have an ultrasound on Monday at 9am. You’re welcome to come.

 

Oh, and there is a farewell lunch for Clive today at the diner round the corner. You’re welcome to come to that too if you wanna bang.

I hear him chatting away to another colleague and don’t expect it when my cell beeps instantly.

Sure why not. And about the bang part…gladly, if you’re offering.

Huh? I scroll back up to my text. Oh fucking hell! Stupid fat pregnancy fingers. Great, now his idiotic man brain is probably playing porn music in the background already.

Hang! I meant hang!! #duck

 

I meant #FUCK

The bubble appears and I throw my head down in shame. Serves me right.

Wait, are you still offering?

I respond at a very slow pace, checking all my words before I hit send.

Round two. I’m not offering. HANG out with us if you want. #damnautocorrect #jerk

I hit send and jump when I see him standing beside me with a grin on his bearded face. I hadn’t paid close enough attention to see that he had grown it out until now.

“What’s with the beehive, Jerk?”

He rubs his beard which makes a scratching sound. “Just something new I’m trying out.”

“If it makes you feel better, you look like Bigfoot.” I turn back around abruptly.

“Actually, that does make me feel better.”

He continues to linger, making me feel very uncomfortable.

“So, are you over your little drama now?” he chastises.

“What drama?”

“The drama that made you ignore me from the moment you woke up at the hotel.”

What excuse could I come up with that was plausible? Think, Kitty! This is all your fault anyway!

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I think you must be talking about yourself,” I say, in a clear and nonchalant tone.

He lets out a loose chuckle, scratching his scruff again. “Women.”

It’s the last thing he says before walking back to his desk.

Clive’s last-minute lunch got canceled, and thankfully, it gave me an excuse to avoid the Jerk until Monday. Friday has officially become my favorite day for two reasons. One, I can wear my unattractive muumuu at night and stay indoors, and two, I don’t have to see the Jerk, which means I can stop thinking about how that beard would feel brushing against my thighs.

As soon as I walk through the door on Friday night, I’m surprised to see Kate already home. She tells me to quickly get dressed because we are going out to dinner with her boss. I only agree because she said the restaurant makes the best enchiladas in the city.

“Lex!” Kate yells amid the small crowd sitting in the restaurant.

Her boss, Lex, is no doubt one of the most gorgeous men I have ever seen. Dressed in a crisp navy suit and white linen shirt, he stands up and opens his arms to hug Kate. His eyes are like...emeralds. And wow, he is all types of beautiful.

“Lex, this is my roommate, Presley Malone,” Kate introduces, taking a seat at the small, round table.

He reaches out his hand and shakes mine, and when I pull back, I notice the white gold band on his wedding finger. I remember now how Kate told me he was married with kids. Go figure; the good ones are always taken.

“Nice to meet you, Presley. Kate’s told me a lot about you.” He pulls out the chair beside him and I take a seat, giving him a nod in thanks.

“And vice versa. So Kate has raved on about these enchiladas and I’d like to point out that I’m eating for two, so no judgment from either of you.”

Lex laughs as he scours the menu. “My wife used to always say that. It’s how she justified ordering the whole menu.”

“Oh that’s right, Kate mentioned you had three daughters.” I smile.

Kate’s face lights up immediately. “Yes, three of the most beautiful girls to ever exist!”

He is quick to scowl, but follows it with a warm smile. “That’s what she says, but Kate hasn’t experienced Addison during her teething stage.”

“Don’t scare her, Lex,” Kate scolds.

“No, scare me. I think I’m too naïve and I want to expect the worse, that way I’m not in for too much of a shock.”

It’s nice to finally chat to another parent because no matter how many textbooks I read, experience can only be told from those that are wise because they’ve gone through it. Lex enjoys talking about his family, and I enjoy hearing his stories.

“My oldest daughter Amelia is the tomboy. She’s always getting into mischief. Broken limbs, jumping off things…but she’s settling down a bit now that she’s almost five.” He raises a Corona to his lips and takes a long drink before continuing. “Ava is my quiet princess. She’s happy to just sit quietly and observe others. Never causes trouble. Sometimes she’ll just sit in a room and you’ll have no idea she’s there.”

“I need a baby like that.” I sigh.

“And Addison is…” He trails off wistfully

Kate finishes his sentence. “Lex and Charlie’s surprise baby.”

“Technically, they were all surprise babies,” he adds.

“I’ve said it once but I’ll say it again. It’s because you don’t keep your hands off your missus. And the two of you combined are like some baby-making factory.” Kate laughs.

Lex doesn’t appear offended, and instead laughs along with Kate as if it’s a longstanding joke between the two of them. They appear to be relaxed in each other’s company. Kate told me about how things used to be different. That Lex was one of those horrible bosses up until he ran into the love of his life. It was such a romantic story; they were high school/college sweethearts that broke up years ago, then fate stepped in when they coincidentally ran into each other at a restaurant one day. She told me about how everything about him changed the moment his love walked backed into his life, but not without drama, of course. Kate now considered them family, and I could see just by sitting here how true that was.

“Three girls is a lot. How did your wife cope with being pregnant three times? It’s hard enough this once.”

“She enjoys it, but towards the end she’s a bit of a hormonal demon,” he adds.

With a mouthful of food, Kate is quick to admonish him. “How dare you say that about my best friend!”

“You were the one that called her that,” Lex points out.

“Oh right. Yes I did.”

Hearing these stories brings to the surface my unresolved feelings about the whole situation. I force myself to be strong, independent, and rely on no one but myself. I am going to be a single mom, whether I like it or not. I will have to raise this child for the rest of my life, and make decisions that will either be wrong or right. Haden will eventually start his own family with Eloise and this child will become less important to him. I will be both the mom and the dad when that time comes. I’ll be doing it all alone.

Lost in these thoughts, I blurt out, “I don’t know how I’m going to be a single mom.”

With a sympathetic smile, Kate moves her hand and places it on top of mine.

Lex puts his fork down and clears his throat. “If I’m getting too personal, tell me to back off. The dad’s not around?”

“He’s around. It’s just...this was a one night stand with a work colleague. He’s now engaged. It’s just not your normal relationship,” I admit wholeheartedly.

“I see. Enough said.”

“So anyway, I was telling Lex you work at Lantern Publishing. His brother-in-law”—Lex’s eyes turn to Kate with an evil stare—”published his manuscripts with the Californian branch.”

“What’s his name?” I ask curiously.

“Julian Baker,” Kate replies.

“What? Are you kidding me? I love his work, not to mention he is...oh wait, pregnant hormonal lady on the loose. He is gorgeous.” I fan myself with a napkin, a wide smile on my face.

Lex’s eyes narrow and Kate is quick to jump in. “Sorry Pres, he is married now to Lex’s sister.”

I laugh loosely. “I’m always missing the boat. So yes, he has done a great deal for Lantern Publishing and opened up avenues for other authors. He’s never visited our New York office, but hopefully he will one day.”

“So correct me if I’m wrong, Mr. Sadler owns and operates this branch?” Lex questions in a more business-like manner, quick to get off the topic of Julian Baker.

“Yes, I’ve been working for him for about eight years now,” I tell him.

“I met him last year at a conference. Kate and I discussed branching out into publishing. With business thriving in our production company, we are looking to expand once again. He was quite knowledgeable, as was his son.”

“Son? Mr. Sadler doesn’t have a son…” I answer, puzzled.

Lex furrows his brows. “He introduced him to us. What was his name again, Kate?”

“Had...oh my god, Presley! Why didn’t I put two and two together?” she almost yells.

I am confused by Kate’s outburst. “What are you talking about?”

She drops her cutlery immediately, leaning back into her chair and folding her arms with a surprised look on her face. “Haden, he’s Mr. Sadler’s son...your baby daddy.”

This time Lex looks confused. “Wait, the dad is Haden Cooper?”

I quickly shoot the ridiculous notion down. “I think you guys are mistaken. Haden isn’t his son.”

“Stepson,” Lex corrects me. “He married Haden’s mom when Haden was young—that’s what he told me.”

Now it’s my turn to sit here in disbelief. I’m staring blankly at my plate, trying to piece the puzzle together. I didn’t understand why Mr. Sadler never said anything, even after he congratulated me at the party. Surely he would have known from all the office gossip that Haden knocked me up. It explains why he got away with murder, but what doesn’t make sense is why he would hide this from me. It wasn’t a big deal.

“Presley, you look pale. Are you okay? Do you want me to take you home?” Kate’s worried face pulls me out of my confused daze.

I smile at them and lie easily. “I’m fine.”

The conversation carries on, and I immerse myself in business talk which distracts me for a while. Lex Edwards is a very powerful and smart man. I have never met someone so driven, yet so family-oriented at the same time. I understand why Kate speaks so highly of him, and together they are such a dynamic duo with the ideas they are bouncing off each other during dinner.

As the night winds down, Lex says his goodbyes before an early flight back home. Before he leaves, he offers his support, should I ever need it.

“This is my wife’s number and email. If ever you want to ask questions or have a chat, please feel free to contact her. She comes to the city often and I’m sure Kate will take you girls out.” He hands me a business card. “Now, here is my contact information, if ever you need anything or if the two of them get up to no good.”

I laugh. “Thank you, Lex, for being so kind. It was really nice to meet you.”

On our way home that night, I can tell Kate knows something isn’t right.

“You had no idea his stepfather was your boss, did you?”

“None whatsoever,” I answer bluntly. “Why would he keep this from me?”

“I have no clue. Is it a big deal, though?”

“It just doesn’t make sense. Listen, I’m going to his place. I need answers.”

She nods. “Want me to come with?”

“No.” I smile at her. “You’ve got your secret date tonight.”

She returns the smile. “I’m just a phone call away, okay?”

I hop into a cab and give the driver the address. Ten minutes later, I am standing outside Haden’s door hoping Marcus isn’t home, or worse, Eloise. Music is playing in the background, gangsta rap of some sort. I knock on the door and wait. Nothing. I bang harder and the door is opened by some guy I don’t recognize.

“Hey Mama, who you here for?” He smirks, laughing oddly at the question.

Mama? Jesus, there’s a first time for everything.

I try to look past his shoulders, but he is quite tall.

“Who does she belong to?” he yells back into the room.

He moves his body and I can see directly into the dim room. Marcus is lying on the sofa with some random chick straddling him. As I scan the room for Haden, a god-awful stench invades my lungs, causing me to cough and heave. It’s like a trip down memory lane, or college lane more like it.

It smells like weed.

This can’t be good for the baby, so to make this quick, I search again and find Haden sitting against the wall. He spots me, and with a crooked smile, he raises his head to greet me.

“Can I please speak to you? Out here in the hall?”

I walk out of the apartment, but not before Marcus jumps up and pushes the girl off him. “Presley, baby, I still love you.” His pathetic attempt at speaking to me deserves no response.

Haden stumbles out of the room and I realize this isn’t the best time, but stupid me asks anyway.

“Why didn’t you tell me Mr. Sadler was your stepdad?” Annoyed and keeping my distance, I stand against the wall.

“You know what?” He points his index finger at me. “You’re beautiful.”

It’s followed by a delirious laugh and I throw my hands up in the air, frustrated that I’m wasting my time. I turn away and walk towards the stairwell, and just when I think I’ve escaped, he grips my shoulder and swiftly turns me around.

His eyes are wild, seriously dark, and the laughter he showcased only moments ago has disappeared. My eyes are drawn to his stained shirt and ripped jeans. It’s very unlike him to be so unkempt, especially with a rugged beard and scruffy hair.

“Why don’t you answer me when I tell you you’re beautiful?” he grits, pinning me closer to the wall.

“Because you’re a jerk that is clearly stoned right now.”

“It’s not an answer!” he raises his voice.

Startled, but refusing to show it, I bite back. “Fine. Thank you. Now let me go.”

His hands trail across my collarbone and directly down my chest, and I don’t stop him, only because I’m gearing up to kick him in the nuts if Kitty can stop drooling long enough.

“Why do you make life so hard for me? What is it about you, Malone?” He refuses to look me in the eye, talking to himself rather than to me.

“Haden, I need to go. This is pointless.”

“Where are you going? Let me come with you,” he pleads.

Underneath his strong and arrogant persona lies desperation and turmoil. I can’t tell whether he has a hidden agenda or just needs a friend right now. Then I remember that men don’t like to talk, so I’m guessing the hidden agenda may be sex for all the wrong reasons.

I stand tall and lean forward to kiss him on the cheek, a gesture of goodwill before walking away, but he swiftly locks his lips onto mine.

He forces his tongue into my mouth, but the intensity and longing is torn away as my protective instinct for the baby fogs any passion towards him. Pushing him back, I catch some air before telling him no.

“We can’t do that, and you’ve been smoking. That can’t be good for my baby.”

He smashes his fist against the wall, screaming in agony.

“OUR! Why won’t you fucking get it through your head that it’s our baby?!”

“Because you haven’t stepped up and proven to me you are responsible. If you can turn up on Monday morning without being stoned or acting like a jerk, maybe then I can take you seriously.”

I push him out of the way and walk down the stairs, praying that he won’t follow.

He doesn’t.

And first thing on Monday morning, I get the call we’ve been waiting for.

The paternity results are finally in.

 

I slam the envelope down on his desk, trying to draw some sort of a reaction from him. Nothing but a sideways glance, then he refocuses on his computer screen. I’m irritated by his stubbornness and his disregard for a clean and sanitary working environment; it drives me fucking nuts. Papers are stacked in no specific order and pens are missing their lids, not to mention chewed at their ends. An empty coffee mug sits beside his desk phone, growing some green species inside it, unwashed and smeared with lipstick. Gross, it’s not even his.

“We need to talk,” I grit, barely able to contain my anger.

“I’m busy.”

“You’re drinking a can of Coke and playing solitaire.”

“Exactly. I’m in the middle of something.”

“Fine, I’ll do it here,” I bellow, crossing my arms in frustration. “Thanks for not showing up at the ultrasound. I had to fucking reschedule. Would it have hurt you to pick up the phone? Or even send a text? Since clearly, you have no balls whatsoever.”

The king lines up to his final card and the screen shows his victory win. He shuts the page down then turns to face me. He looks ghastly, with deep dark circles shadowing his dull eyes, not to mention his beard that has truly taken on a life of its own. He was obviously stoned and drunk all weekend.

Looking uninterested, he takes a drink, then throws the can into the trash. “Are you done now?”

I exhale at his insensitivity. “No, I am not done. This is exactly why I don’t want you in my child’s life. You’ve proven once again you have no desire to be a father, and I’m really sorry that your name sits inside that envelope.”

His face falls and he quickly opens it to read the answer he is undoubtedly hoping isn’t true. His expression turns to pity, fear, and most noticeably, regret. The quick stabbing pains in my heart make me wish he had reacted differently, that maybe in some universe filled with rainbows and unicorns he would have jumped for joy.

But he didn’t.

And sometimes, one look can say a thousand words.

What did I seriously expect? He is twenty-six. He rides a motorbike and gets stoned on the weekends. I couldn’t have picked a less desirable sperm donor if I had plucked one from a hat.

Whatever part of me still clings to some sort of pathetic miracle should have read all the signs by now. I only rile myself up the more I dwell on it. Where did smart, level-headed Presley run off to? Well, it is time for her to come back. Guns blazing.

“So you have your proof now, but it doesn’t matter,” I tell him, trying to remain strong. “On top of all this, I don’t know why you hid the fact that Mr. Sadler is your stepfather, and you know what?” My heated words and my irritable behavior should forewarn him of the storm that’s about to hit. “I don’t know you at all, Haden. Your mood swings are worse than a fifteen-year-old girl’s. I know you’re hiding something, but who knows what? And I have no clue why you’re getting married to someone you barely know! I’m really over all your immature games. I’ve got a child to raise, and frankly, I don’t care whether you’re a part of it or not.”

I storm off, not waiting for an answer. This day just went from bad to complete and utter hell. To top it off, I am pissed at myself for even mentioning the marriage thing. Yeah, in hindsight, what did it matter? What he did with his life was his business. Why did I want some sort of answer or insight into why he is marrying a woman he has known for such a short time?

Kitty is raising her hand like an overeager student, because she has all the answers. Teacher’s pet! I shut her down and send her to detention. All this is her fault anyway!

Back at my desk, I struggle to get any tasks done. Everything in my life feels like a giant mess. When these moods appear, there is only one solution: clean. I grab some disinfectant and wipe my entire desk down including my keyboard. Removing the keys one by one, wiping, replacing. I file away the two papers sitting on my desk and sharpen all my pencils to the same height. Then I reorganize my filing cabinet and archive some old paperwork.

That was too easy.

So I sneak into the main kitchen and start cleaning out the fridge. I was wrong about the Jerk’s cup and the new species growing inside it, because there is something ten times worse in this fridge. Someone has left a moldy apple, a rotten banana, and some cheese in a plastic container. It’s now green, furry, and I swear on my unborn child’s life, I see movement in the box. I shiver and pinch the sides of the container, throwing it in the trash.

Breathing a sigh of a relief when I can practically see my reflection in the countertops, I head back to my desk, much calmer now. Sitting in my chair with a fresh cup of tea, I take in the peace and quiet for just a moment. It is short lived as my cell starts to dance across my desk. I recognize the number and pick it up. The receptionist at the ultrasound place had a last-minute cancellation this afternoon, and I’m quick to accept her timeslot. This morning was bad enough, showing up and waiting like an idiot. I’ve learned my lesson and have no desire to tell him about this second appointment.

“Guess what?!” Vicky is sitting on my freshly-disinfected desk with her (God knows where it’s been) ass.

Frowning, I eventually indulge her. “Let me guess, the Jerk came and saw you and is trying to worm his way back as Mr. Nice Guy?”

She stops mid-smile and grimaces. “Are you in love with him?”

“Wh…why would you say that?” I stutter, wanting to slap myself in the face for making her think I am. Because I’m not.

“Just asking…so anyway, Patrick called me,” she says excitedly.

Welcoming the switch of topic and avoiding the awkward conversation about love, I am shocked and surprised to learn the weasel is contacting Vicky again. Here’s the thing about Patrick: he’s the ultimate jerk. The amount of pain and humiliation he caused Vicky is downright inexcusable. There is no logical reason for him to call Vicky, apart from wanting to bang her one more time, then send her off on a shame parade down the highway to hell.

“Patrick? Your ex? The man who was married with kids and fucked you till all hell broke loose? Patrick?”

She grins, and automatically I worry that she will (if she hasn’t already) jump on the boat to Brokenheartsville. Again.

“Vicky, don’t go there again. You were a mess last time,” I gently warn her.

“But this time I’m over him. I’m just curious to find out what he wants,” she tries to reassure me.

This isn’t good. I have half a mind to call him up and tell him to fuck off or I’ll chop his balls up and feed it to the snappy dog that lives next door. But of course, I try to be the mature and ever-so-caring friend. I was there through it all, from the snotty sobs to plotting the ultimate revenge. What I didn’t expect was to be back here two years later, and for Vicky to so eagerly jump back in.

“What else would he want but to get you into bed?”

“Closure,” she replies.

“Guys don’t want closure. They just go find some new jackrabbit to fuck…or something along those lines,” I mumble.

“What?”

“Never mind,” I tell her. Stupid jerk.

Vicky continues to justify her reasons for responding to him, and I continue to play the friend that tries to stop her from making another wrong decision. But it’s her decision, and no amount of persuasion from me will change her mind. Mental note: stock up on ice cream because it’s all downhill from here.

“I’m guessing we will continue this conversation tonight. Listen, I love you, but if he hurts you in the slightest way, I will go all psycho on his ass.”

“I know you got my back.” She simpers, leaning in to kiss my forehead as reassurance. “Are you going somewhere now?”

“The Jerk stood me up this morning so I missed my appointment. The ultrasound place has another opening this afternoon, so once I finish this report I’m working on, I’m heading out.”

“Uh oh. I need the whole story.” She glances at her watch. “But I’ve got a meeting I need to get to. I’ll call you tonight, okay?” She raises her eyes, then quickly says goodbye and disappears. Weird, but then again, her head is probably clouded with thoughts of Patrick and his wandering dick.

I make it to the appointment with only a minute to spare. The sonographer, Sandra, invites me into the room, and just as I’m about to close the door behind me, I hear chaos in the waiting room.

“Am I late?”

Panting and out of breath, the Jerk bends, resting his body against the door and trying to redeem himself. His hair is a wild mess and sweat is visibly dripping down his forehead.

“Why are you here? I didn’t tell you…”

Damn Vicky! That conniving little witch!

“I’m here, okay? Quit giving me grief.”

Secretly, I am glad he is here. Whatever reason he felt the need to see our baby, I don’t care. It’s the first moment throughout the pregnancy where I feel normal, and when I say normal, I mean with a partner right beside me. Sure, it’s all fantasy, but just for this short time I can pretend it’s real.

But, of course, I wouldn’t think of telling him that, and instead I poke fun at him.

“Geez, Jerk, wouldn’t hurt you to hit the gym once in a while.”

“I ran ten blocks,” he responds, exasperated. “In an Armani suit.”

I roll my eyes at his melodrama and walk into the room. My cheeks start to flush as I think of having to change into the gown. Thankfully, Sandra senses my embarrassment and leads me to the bathroom inside the room where I quickly change into my gown. Walking back into the room, my bare body lays beneath the thin material and feels extremely exposed.

Ignore that he is right beside you, because it’s not like he has X-ray vision!

I cross to the other side of the bed as Sandra assists me with getting comfortable. The sheets are placed strategically over Kitty, and the Jerk takes a seat beside me as the warm lube is spread all over my belly.

“That’s a lot of lube,” he snickers under his breath.

“So mature, Jerk.”

The volume is turned up on the machine, and Sandra moves around my uterus until the baby’s heartbeat echoes throughout the room. It’s like music to my ears, and my eyes move towards the screen as I watch the images of what looks like a happy little baby cooped up inside.

“So the baby is measuring correctly,” she tells us, typing in the measurements as she speaks.