Текст книги "Jerk"

Автор книги: Kat T. Masen

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

Haden is staring at the screen, fixated on the baby. “Can you tell us what the sex is?”

“I sure can.” She smiles.

“Don’t tell him. I don’t want to know.” I shake my head.

“You can’t decide that for me.”

“Seriously, what the hell is your problem? You think I’m hormonal, what about you? You’re such a jerk!”

Sandra pauses and looks at the both of us. “So yes…no?”

“No,” I say at the same time he says yes.

I speak up again. “Absolutely not. If you want to know, then I’ll leave the room.”

“No yet, Miss Malone. I just wanted to talk about the position. The baby is breech. However, there is still time to turn.”

In a blind panic, I ask, “Is there anything I can do to help the baby turn?”

“Your obstetrician may be able to assist, but the best thing you can do is relax and enjoy the rest of the pregnancy. Any previous concerns we had don’t seem to be an issue anymore.”

She spends longer checking the baby and its progress, and I forget the Jerk is even in the room. I only remember he is here when I hear him clear his throat. Something about the way he is amorously staring at the screen consumes me. He’s lost in a moment where his soul becomes an open book, and I see a man who is capable of loving this unborn child more than himself. It moves me, yet I break away from these thoughts. This line of thinking is dangerous, because deep inside, my walls are breaking down and he is the giant wrecking ball ready to do damage.

It takes every part of me to turn away from this beautiful sight and move myself off the bed.

Haden reaches out his hand to help me, but stubborn old me refuses to touch him, and I almost fall off the bed.

“Jesus, can you seriously stop being so stubborn and allow me to help you?”

I hold onto my stomach as a small cramp hits.

“I told you. I don’t want anything from you. My goddamn mailman is more reliable than you!” I snap, unsure of where it’s coming from after such a special moment.

In his typical signature move, he runs his hands through his hair, disheartened. I am tired of arguing with him, and something tells me this is only the beginning. The two of us just can’t get along, it’s that plain and simple.

“I didn’t tell you that David, or as you call him, Mr. Sadler, is my stepdad because I don’t like anyone knowing.”

Thrown off by the change of subject, I attempt to listen rather than open my big fat mouth for once. Sandra gives us some time alone to gather our things and leaves the room to attend to another appointment.

“Today is the anniversary of my dad’s death.” He falls into a digestive silence, eyes staring at the screen where the picture of the baby remains frozen.

I’m never sure what to say in these circumstances, never having experienced the death of anyone close to me besides my grandparents. This is why Hallmark runs a successful business; they sell a card for every occasion when you have nothing appropriate to say.

I need a Hallmark quote right now.

“I’m sorry, Haden,” I apologize quietly.

His eyes focus in on my stomach, then move towards my face. He’s like a little lost boy, the vulnerability and sadness weighing heavily in that one glance. I want to reach out to him, but I know it’s inappropriate. Instead, I keep my distance and try to offer some support by listening.

“He died when I was fifteen. A car accident,” he tells me in a low voice. “Presley, I run away from this because I’m scared I will never be the dad he was to me.”

Oh crap. He’s opening up to me. I have no choice but to be nice now, because I’m not a cold-hearted bitch. I hate the way  my feelings towards him shift. I knew there was a reason why he acted like a jerk all the time. I just never expected it to be this.

“Do you want to go somewhere and talk?” I offer.

“I have to attend this dinner with Eloise.”

I don’t say anything and he quickly adds, “But I can cancel. Can we go back to your place?”

“Sure.”

Eloise doesn’t take the cancellation well. The argument in the cab ride home echoes through the speaker. Some mouth she has on her. His patience is wearing thin and the grinding from his teeth is audible, not to mention his repetitive tapping of the door handle, which is driving me insane. When he directs the driver to stop at the corner pizza place, I welcome the interruption.

When we walk through the door of the apartment, the exhaustion of the day hits me like a ton of bricks, and I fall onto the sofa effortlessly.

The one thing I love about Kate’s apartment is how cozy and warm it feels. There is something about this place that makes you feel like you’re home. It could be the one-of-a-kind vintage pieces or the comfortable natural-colored sofa that practically begs your body to sink into it. Either way, I’m happy to be here.

“Nice place. Who did you say owns it?” He takes a slice of pizza, practically inhaling it in one sitting.

“My roommate Kate, but actually her best friend Charlie Edwards owns the place.”

“Name sounds familiar,” he casually responds.

“Maybe you know her husband. Lex Edwards? He was the one who told me about Mr. Sadler being your stepdad.”

Haden lets out a long whistle. “I remember her. How could I forget?” He chuckles at what appears to be his own private joke. “She was at this event, some business thing. I believe I tried to, um…anyway, Lex was quick to set me straight.”

I have to laugh at this; I can only imagine how possessive Lex could be. He and his wife are stunning—at least from Kate’s photos they are. From what Kate told me, no one, and I mean no one, gets near Lex’s wife.

“Always the player, aren’t you?” I tease, grabbing another slice of pepperoni pizza that I am certain is calling my name.

“Was,” he corrects me. “What am I now? I don’t even know who I am.”

Taking slow bites, I drink some soda and wipe my mouth with a napkin. “You’re the same person to me. A big fat jerk. Well, not the fat part because actually you’re quite muscular and lean, but you…” I trail off as he stares at me in bewilderment.

“What? Sauce on my face?” I ask, paranoid.

“No…it’s nothing.”

I let it go for now, finishing off the last bite and holding in the burp that wants to escape.

“It’s nice to just pig out on pizza,” he says out of the blue.

“It’s one of life’s greatest pleasures. You don’t pig out on pizza? I thought guys were all about pizza.”

“I used to be. Eloise doesn’t like it.”

I laugh on cue. “If I was with someone who didn’t like pizza, there would be no future for us.”

“Yes, well that’s the difference between you and her,” he boldly states.

“I’m sorry, Haden. Please just once and for all tell me, why are you marrying her?”

He shuffles uncomfortably. “I told you. I love her.”

“I know you said that,” I hate to admit. “But you just met her. How does a guy who is used to jumping into random panties suddenly tie himself down?”

I can see that he is wringing the napkin between his hands. Staring at the floor, he lets out a long breath, then opens his mouth to speak. “She happened to be there at a time when I needed someone. I can’t forget that. Despite what you might think, she’s a really good person.”

I quickly defend his allegation against me. “I never said she wasn’t, I just don’t understand why you are rushing into marriage.”

“Well, I just told you. She’s great. My mom loves her and so it just makes sense.”

I don’t pry further because, truth be told, he sounds completely unsure of himself. So, after that revelation, we continue to sit in silence.

“Why did you stop talking to me that morning you woke up?” he questions, this time holding my gaze.

It’s the second time he’s asked me that, and this time I call defeat. Honesty is something I base all of my relationships on, whether they be partners or friends.

“The truth? And don’t get a big head. And when I say head, I mean down below, because no chance, buddy.” Looking puzzled, he waits for my explanation. “I had a dream about you. About us.”

With a smug look, he pries further. “What was I doing in the dream?”

“Stop playing dumb. I don’t need to spell it out for you. It’s awkward and I really don’t want to discuss it further.”

With a wide cocky grin, he licks his lips before asking, “Was I at least good?”

Should I answer his ridiculous question? His body looks inviting, and Kitty is wearing some slutty getup with her legs crossed, showing way too much skin.

Still in his suit, with his shirt partially unbuttoned and flashing me his tanned skin, I realize my strong will can only be pushed so far. That, and Kitty practically has her welcome wagon ready because she is pulling out all the stops. Stupid, horny traitor!

“Have some faith in yourself, Jerk. Yes, you were. Totally sweeping this convo under the rug now,” I mumble.

With a sly smile, he leans in a little further. “I had a similar dream that night.”

I almost spit out my drink and choke on the liquid stuck in my throat. I cough involuntarily until Haden realizes I need assistance and pats me on the back repeatedly.

“You okay?”

I nod, embarrassed that he thinks I am this affected by his admission.

“I don’t know what to say. This is really awkward.”

“What else is there to say besides the fact that we are clearly attracted to each other?”

How do I respond to that!? Is it written all over my face? Are my nipples hard, giving off some sort of horny vibe? Panicking, I try to come up with something witty to say, but nada.

“Haden, I don’t think—”

“Let me finish. It was bound to happen and I blame curiosity,” he claims. “We both know it can’t happen.”

My heart slightly sinks as he says that. Shit, why the hell did I react that way? I don’t have those types of feelings towards him…do I?

Don’t answer that!

“It can’t happen because you’re getting married.” There, I said it again. “Haden, we’ve got to stop playing these games.”

He seems to acknowledge the truth, and although it hurts more than I thought it would, it has to come out. We have to focus on raising this baby. That will forever be our top priority.

“I’ll stop playing these games on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

His eyes are practically dancing, and I subconsciously look around the room, wondering why he is watching me this way. Under his stare, my cheeks flush and my body temperature rises.

“I want to kiss you. Just one kiss. Nothing more.”

I laugh, thinking it’s a joke, until his expression tells me to shut the fuck up because he is dead serious.

“But you’re—”

He doesn’t allow me to finish, moving his body close to mine and cupping my chin in his masculine hands. My uneven breaths are terrified and anticipating his next move. He runs his nose along my chin and moves his face slightly upwards until his lips press gently onto mine. One kiss, that’s all. Just one little peck won’t hurt, right? I part my lips until our tongues meet midway and intertwine. With a slow and tantalizing pace, our lips move in sync, and the taste of him melts away at my body, reacting instantly. Kitty is trying to break free from her cage, but goddammit I cannot, will not, allow that to happen.

My hands mimic his and find their way to his chiseled cheekbones. We continue to kiss like this for what feels like forever, and much like high school, my jaw starts to get sore. Kitty is aching like a swollen bitch, drowning in my panties and demanding some sort of lifejacket. With a final moan, we both slow the pace and pull away simultaneously.

Stupid me. I look directly at his pants.

Fuckity fuck, fuck! He looks rock hard.

We catch our breath, and suddenly feeling shy, I struggle to look into his eyes, avoiding them till it’s impossible. Everything I see there is filled with forbidden feelings. Lust, sex, desire…and maybe traces of something deeper. The silence deepens and neither of us says a word for what feels like minutes.

“See, it was just a kiss,” he insists, adjusting his pants.

“Yep, just a kiss. A kiss that will never happen again.”

“Never ever happen again. And that was the point I was trying to prove.”

I turn to face him, and with curiosity, I ask, “You had a point to prove?”

“Yes,” he quietly chokes. “The awkward part is over. No more curiosity. So now we can be normal…be friends.”

What planet is he on? Not the same horny planet I’m on, that’s for sure.

“Okay, so we can be friends,” I say, unsure.

“Great.” He claps his hands, surprising me. “So what are you up to this weekend?”

Really? We both just had the most intense kiss ever, and now this is what we are discussing? It’s such a bizarre reaction.

“Just shopping for last-minute stuff for the baby and that’s about it. You?”

“Before I forget, my mom wants to meet you. Well, she’s been begging to meet you since I told her, but I think now’s the time.”

“Okay…”

“David wants me in L.A. next month to manage the office while the senior editor is having an operation, so I’ll be gone for three weeks.”

“David? Oh! Mr. Sadler, right.”

“Then, I’ll be spending a week in Vegas for my bachelor party,” he adds.

Whoa, rewind. Again, he gives me the most intense kiss only to tell me he’s going to party all week and probably get laid by a stripper? My blood rises and that unusual bout of jealousy is consuming me. I stare at my feet, trying to control these fucked-up feelings. Don’t say anything…just keep it to yourself.

“Strippers? Weren’t you the one who told me about fucking them or something?”

He smiles softly and raises his hand to stroke my cheek. “I would never do that to you.”

My eyes dart to his, and he is seemingly unaware of the words he just spoke.

“Don’t you mean Eloise?”

His grin disappears and suddenly he looks agitated. “Yes, I meant Eloise.”

Silence falls between us, and when no more words are left to be said, I realize my feelings need a massive reality check.

A fucking astronomical reality check.

“So, I better be going. I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”

Standing up, he heads towards the door and I follow. He turns to look at me one more time, but this time his eyes are heavily fixated on my lips. With my chest pounding hard, I pray my face isn’t flushed, showing how aroused I am and how much I want him to stay.

Bad, bad kitty!

“So I guess it’s goodbye…” he speaks barely above a breath, unable to pull his focus away from my lips.

Biting the corner of my mouth, I struggle to keep my hands by my side, itching to reach out and caress his face one more time. Finally, I return his smile, and just like that, he turns away and walks to the elevator. Urgently, I call the name my heart can no longer hold in.

“Haden?”

He turns back around, standing still in his perfect pose as my body aches for his beauty. His posture stands tall, showing off his masculine presence. His eyes are bewitching, and behind his frames, his beautiful, light brown eyes are capturing me, not wanting me to let go. But I have to…because he doesn’t belong to me.

“You’re going to make a great dad.”

His beautiful face beams instantly. “Thank you. It’s exactly what I needed to hear.”

Walking away, I shut the door and run for my room. Lying on my bed, I raise my fingertips and run them along my sensitive lips as I close my eyes. Every sensation, every feeling of what happened only minutes ago is engrained in my memory. It’s all too much and my heart can’t take it, terrified of the one thing I promised myself I would never do.

I am falling in love with the Jerk.

 

The night Haden left my apartment, things changed in my head. I couldn’t get over the kiss we shared, and while his intention was to get it over and done with and pass that awkward tension between us, it had the exact opposite effect on me.

I could not stop thinking about him.

I could not stop thinking about that kiss.

As much as I tried to talk myself into thinking it was the pregnancy, deep down it was gnawing at me. You know, that moment when you look at someone in a different light and all of a sudden you think to yourself, ‘Holy shit, but that person’s been in front of me all along.’ It reminded me of my teenage years, watching Dawson’s Creek. Nobody had a crush on Pacey, then all of a sudden Dawson became an afterthought and Pacey was the guy that everyone crushed on.

Geez, you know you have loose marbles in your head when you’re comparing your adult life to Dawson’s Creek.

As the weeks went on, we seemed to get along better, never mentioning what happened between us. He was busy wrapping up parts of Fallen Baby before heading over to L.A., and I was busy trying to get  as much done as I possibly could and hand over any ongoing projects to Dee.

I had to admit, we got along much better since she started dating this sugar daddy. Not to mention, she was totally covered in bling.

True to form, I made a list of all the things I needed for the baby. After researching baby sites and emailing Lex’s wife Charlie back and forth, I had a pretty good idea of everything I needed. She was extremely helpful, nice, and went out of her way to send me some stuff she hadn’t used. Just extra bits and pieces still new in their packaging. We talked long and hard about the need to attend Lamaze classes. Given that I was trying to limit my contact outside of work with Haden, I settled for a small intimate class for mothers without partners. It was refreshing to be surrounded by women in the same situation, even though the majority of them had chosen to be inseminated by an anonymous sperm donor.

The day Haden is scheduled to fly out to L.A., I have officially hit thirty-one weeks. Now I am really a beached whale, uncomfortable everywhere, and the worst part is…I still have nine weeks to go.

“Don’t go having that baby while I’m gone.” He chuckles.

“I’ll stay away from the spicy food,” I joke.

“And sex,” he adds with sarcasm.

“Ha, ha…fat chance of that happening,” I mock. “So Gemma tells me you guys are going to some surfing gig on the weekend?”

“Yes. I can’t wait. The best in the world will be there.”

“Well, give them a hug for me.”

“The surfers?” he teases.

I punch his arm, enjoying the relaxed conversation between us.

“No! Gemma and Melissa!”

He continues to smile, shutting down his computer and packing his things. He will be gone for three weeks, and I hate to admit that I’ll miss him. Yes, we get along much better. Yes, I have tried very hard to curb any feelings I have towards him. I am certain that once the baby comes, I will feel differently about him. Certain that everything that is consuming me now is because of the hormones. Take hormones out of the equation, and all he will be in my eyes is my child’s father.

“Have a safe trip,” I say with a genuine smile.

“I’ll text you once I’m there. Just take care of my baby, okay?”

“Our baby,” I correct him.

His face breaks out into a wide smile before he walks to the elevator and disappears.

“SURPRISE!”

I walk into the apartment and there are balloons everywhere. Standing around are Kate, Vicky, Gemma, Melissa, Charlie, a couple of girls from the office, and my mom.

Aside from the mint-green balloons floating in the room, there is a long table covered in finger food, and a giant stork sits in the middle of the room. Towards the left wall, another makeshift table stands with a ton of presents.

“Happy baby shower!” Vicky and Kate sing in unison.

I smile, still in shock, and walk around the room, greeting everyone. It’s the first time I’m meeting Charlie in person, and just like in her photos, she is beautiful. With long wavy brown hair just above her waist, her toned physique blows me away, especially considering she’s had three kids.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you.” She smiles, leaning in to give me a hug.

“And you. Where are the girls?”

“Lex took them to the zoo today. I’ve already gotten a dozen texts and calls.” She pulls out her cell and proudly shows me a picture of the three girls sitting in front of the bear enclosure. “Anyway,” she continues, “we’re here to celebrate you!”

Having been dragged to a number of these events in the past, I’m surprised it turns out to be a fun couple of hours, playing games, eating delicious food, and of course opening presents.

Mom, as promised, got me a new breast pump, and pretty much the rest of the baby store back home. Among the other gifts are clothes, toys, and other much-needed items.

Hidden behind the last bag I open is a flat present wrapped in brown paper. I take it off the table and search for a card. It’s on the opposite side. I open the envelope, take out the small card, and slowly read the inscription.

My dad would read this to me every night.

              Now it’s my turn to read it to our child.

With everyone in the room focused in on me, I unwrap the present carefully. It’s a storybook with a picture of two bears on the front. The title reads, Why I Love My Dad So Much. As I open the first page to have a glimpse, there in a child’s writing are the words: This book belongs to Haden Cooper.

I know everyone is watching me, and I’m barely able to choke back the tears. I think I mumble something like ‘thank you all for coming,’ and fortunately, Gemma distracts everyone with party favors.

When the last guest leaves, I head to my room, utterly exhausted. Vicky and Kate are happy to clean up, and Gemma, Melissa, and Mom head back to their hotel for some sleep before an early morning flight home. Flopping onto the bed with Haden’s book in hand, I grab my cell and try to call him. It goes to voicemail after a few rings, and with heavy eyes, I send a follow-up text.

Your gift was beautiful. Thank you for giving this to our child.

It’s the following morning when I read his reply.

Sorry I missed your call. I didn’t hear my cell at dinner.

My dad read that to me every night till I was ten years old.

              I’m hoping I’ll be able to do the same.

It wasn’t until a week later that I went back and absorbed his words. My heart sank for him, that he wouldn’t be able to read to our child every night because we weren’t together. He would live with his wife Eloise and I would live somewhere else. There was no point dwelling on that fact, and so I chose to move on. Well, at least I tried to move on.

He may have been in Vegas, but it felt like a million miles away and my memory forgot what he looked like, having not seen him in almost a month. So, becoming a crazed, obsessed stalker seemed only natural. I hit up social media, searching every photo he was in and the general comments he posted. Just like Vicky said, he’s an extreme sports junkie, with countless photos of him jumping out of planes and off cliffs. He didn’t post many status updates, but it’s the link to a video that he posted only hours ago that catches my attention.

I press play, and it’s him playing a guitar and singing. In what looks like a hotel room balcony, with the night’s sky above him, the guitar is positioned on his lap as he sits on the floor against the railing. Wearing a ratty Rolling Stones tank, grey sweats, and an army-green beanie, his arms are flexed and fuck does he look gobsmackingly beautiful.

He plays the chords and hums along to a familiar beat. I wrack my brain trying to figure out the song, and by the time he reaches the chorus, I recognize it. It’s an Eagles song, “I Can’t Tell You Why,” and I remember it from my childhood when Dad would play the album on repeat.

Haden’s voice is soft and sexy, perfectly in tune with the song. It’s over so quickly that I press play again, but this time I close my eyes. The lyrics are sinking deep within me, every word, every emotion, fueling this burning fire I am trying so hard to contain. What is it about him that does these things to my body and soul?

I let out a breath to stop my heart from racing and I click on the comments below. Several friends have commented, shared, and liked his post. In fact, there’s over a hundred comments. Shit. By the end of the night, I feel like a complete loser for reading more into it. He probably sang it about Eloise and that thought makes me head straight to the tub of ice cream I had reserved for Vicky.

Kate and Vicky notice a change in my mood, and they are quick to figure it out.

“You porked him, didn’t you?” Kate sighs.

“For the millionth time, NO!”

“Something happened,” Vicky says. “You’re acting odd. You’re in love with him…aren’t you?”

Frustrated, I pull myself up from the couch with the assistance of Kate. Being heavily pregnant at just under thirty-five weeks is taking its toll on my body.

“We kissed…okay? That’s it,” I barely admit. “And I’m not in love with him. Just feel guilty because we shouldn’t have.”

The damage is done, and the worst part is that it damaged me. I had enough on my plate without throwing a pile of guilt on there. I should have known this would happen. I’m not as strong as I thought I was. Love has this stupid way of creeping under your skin when you least expect it.

Fuck, I DID NOT just use the word love.

“Sweetie,” Vicky says soothingly, rubbing the base of my back like the good friend she is. I welcome the massage, especially because of the extra weight I’m carrying. “Why don’t you just admit there’s something there between you?”

I want to ugly cry, and I’m not an overly emotional person. I didn’t even cry when watching Steel Magnolias or even Beaches, and everyone cries watching those movies.

“I really want to drop this subject,” I say glumly.

Thankfully, they drop the subject at that, but not without offering to hang out with me for the night. I reassure them that I’m okay, because I have to be, and I carry on, asking them about their plans for the night.

Vicky was meeting up with Patrick, which no doubt will result in her coming back here two hours later in tears. Kate had a rendezvous planned with a mystery man. She’s dressed in a short, fitted leather dress and really high leather pumps, and I’m dying to ask if it’s at some underground bondage club. I also wonder if that mystery package that arrived earlier in the week from a place called Betty’s Sweet Things has something to do with tonight.

Alone and on the couch with a bowl of popcorn, I’m entertained by Reese Witherspoon in Sweet Home Alabama. As one of my favorite movies, it was normally a great distraction, but tonight I can’t stop thinking about what the Jerk is up to. No doubt, men surrounded by feral kitties and cheap booze won’t end well. Argh. I shove a handful of popcorn in my mouth, ignoring the images that taunt me. Vegas is a sleaze hole.

Moments later, my cell beeps and Vicky’s name pops up.

Oh my god Pres! Quick bathroom break, Patrick just told me he is leaving his wife and gave me a key to his new apartment!

I cringe and let out an annoyed sigh. Here we go again. No matter what I said, Vicky was going to ignore my advice anyway. To avoid the confrontation, I put my cell aside until I have some sort of response that would satisfy the both of us. When it beeps a minute later, I know she won’t give up, so I pick it up and see that it’s not from her. It’s from the Jerk.

Just checking in to make sure you haven’t given birth and ran away to some enchanted forest to raise my kid.

I laugh out loud to myself, sinking further into the sofa with a deep smile on my face. As I type a response, nerves suddenly appear and my usual witty comebacks aren’t occurring to me like they usually do. He’s miles away, yet I feel like he’s right beside me.

Still THE giant elephant in the room. Surprised you found time out of your busy stripper schedule to say hello.

I sit and wait for him to respond, and nothing. An hour later, I’ve deemed myself pathetic and have made my way to bed, cursing the living daylights out of him. Why did he have to go ahead and text me, only to leave me hanging like this? My own fault. Why did I get so fucking excited when he texted me?

I try to fall asleep but my restless legs and weak bladder call for a sleepless night, so I get to reading. Somewhere in my pregnancy book, I fall asleep, only to be woken shortly after from another text.

Can I call you?

These four simple words make my heart race so fast that I’m unable to respond immediately. The second I do, my cell rings.

“Hey, giant elephant in the room,” he whispers.

“Thanks. You sure know how to make a woman feel better.”

He lets out a raspy laugh. “I think I left my charm along with my wallet in some stripper’s panties.”

“Sounds like you’re behaving yourself. What time is it there?”

“Beer o’clock,” he responds humorously. “The sun will greet me soon.”

“I couldn’t sleep either, but for very different reasons.”

His heavy breathing comes through the phone, and for a brief moment, I think he is asleep.

“Soon the baby will be here and you can sleep better.”

“Ha!” I exclaim. “Newsflash, babies wake up all through the night. I wonder if Kate would like to do the am shift.”

With a slight hesitation, he responds sincerely. “You don’t have to do that. Maybe some nights I can stay over…like on the couch or something?”

It’s my turn to hesitate. It was inevitable that this would come up. We still hadn’t come to an arrangement as to how it would work once the baby is here. I’m still staying at Kate’s because I can’t decide whether to stay in the city or not. Kate reassured me that having a baby around would not cramp her style. In fact, she offered to help out whenever she could, especially at night since she’s a night owl.

I don’t cope well with no sleep. In fact, I’m the grumpiest person ever if I don’t get eight hours straight of sleep. Haden can’t sleep on the couch forever, but it’s not like I’m ready to have the baby sleep at his place, either. I feel a migraine coming on.

“I guess we could do that…”

“You sound unsure.”

“I just haven’t thought about it much. I’ve been preoccupied with this birthing plan I’m supposed to come up with.”

It seems like the most awkward conversation ever, and it goes on for ages. He then proceeds to tell me stories about the past few nights, many of which leave me in stitches. Although he doesn’t talk much about Marcus, he eludes to the fact that Marcus is somewhat not over me.

“You need to ignore his texts and calls,” he warns me.

Coincidentally, it’s then that a beep comes through the line. I quickly pull my cell away from my ear and open the text. It is from Marcus and…holy shit! It’s a picture of his cock.

“He just texted me. Do you have ESP or something?”