She’s not pregnant, and I’m about to ask if she is, which is a good way to get punched in the face. Youneverask a woman if she’s pregnant.
And, sitting on the street in front of her house, it dawns on me that I have no idea if she lives alone. If her dad, Dave Bowman, answers the door, I’m as good as dead. If her cheating ex-boyfriend opens the door, he’s going to try to kick my ass—and fail, for sure. Even still, I’ve never let the fear of being punched in the face stop me from making bad decisions before, so I shut the truck down with a shudder and stride up to her front door.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” She asks with half-closed eyes, squinting to adjust to the early morning light. She’s in a pink pajama set, hair piled on top of her head, and not wearing any makeup.Shit.I woke her up.Not a great start. Admittedly, sometimes I forget not everybody starts their day at four o’clock in the morning.
A few wavy strands of hair fall over her face, and she reaches up to tuck them behind her ear. We simultaneously realize she’s wearing a thin tank top with no bra, and her arms quickly fold over her chest. But not before I capture details about the size and texture of her puffy nipples through the light pink fabric. It seems silly she’d be worried about that when I’ve licked her pussy before but, then again, it was dark and I didn’t get to see much of her. Certainly not as much as I’d have liked to.
“Care to explain why you showed up here and woke me up, asshole?” Her bare foot taps on the wood floor inside the entry.
“Uh—”Shit. What am I doing here?“I just heard some things and, y’know, small town bullshit. But it’s kind of fucking me up, so I was hoping you could clear the air.”
She nods slowly. “Okay, um… want to elaborate on what kind of things you heard?”
She’s seriously going to make me say it.
I scratch the back of my neck, mentally preparing for the slap or kick to the groin inevitably coming my way. “That you’re pregnant.”
“Fuck.” The word comes out on a wispy breath. The skinny strap on her tank top is a cunt hair away from slipping off her freckled shoulder. And it takes all I have not to reach out to fix it.
“So you are then?” I tuck my tongue into my cheek and release a long breath. It’s absolutely insane my knees haven’t given out, but somehow I’m still standing. I do need to lean against the door frame to stay that way, though. I stammer, “Okay. Wow.”
“Come sit.” She steps back from the door and, in a daze, I stumble my way into the small living room. Then I find myself sitting on her couch, gawking at her, waiting for one of two leftover outcomes. And I’m completely fucked up over which one I’d prefer. I didn’t think I wanted a kid right now… possibly ever. I’m not cut out to be a parent—my childhood was too fucked up, my life now is too wild, my future is too uncertain. But, also, her ex is a complete tool and doesn’t deserve her any more than I do.
“Don’t love that rumours are already flying, but I guess there’s no way it would stay a secret forever.” She pulls a thick, buffalo plaid blanket over her bare legs on the grey recliner opposite me. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’ve known for a few weeks, and it’s been a lot to process.”
“Uh… okay. So then—it’s mine then? You’re sure?” No clue how I’m able to form words. My heart’s seized up, all the air in the room is gone, and my jaw’s hanging like it’s broken. Not to mention the painful burning in my eyes, as if I’m trapped in a dust storm.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” Her nose scrunches, no doubt hating having to admit it.
“Well,fuck,” I blurt out. And I immediately regret it, because it feels like that’s not the way I should react in this situation.
“Yeah.” She pinches the bridge of her nose and stares at the ceiling like she’s trying not to cry.Shit.Now Ireallyregret not having a more positive reaction. “I don’t expect or want anything from you. It was my stupid idea that got me into this mess, and I’ll handle it on my own.”
I gulp. “Handle it? Like…”
“Bad wording. No, I’m not getting an abortion. It’s my choiceand—”
I hold a hand up to stop her. “Okay, I’m not trying to fight you on it.”
“Shut up and let me explain. Everything I’ve ever been told is that I might have a hard time getting pregnant because of some medical stuff I have going on.” She slowly twirls a piece of hair around her finger and watches out the window. “Even though this isn’t exactlyideal, I don’t know if this might be my only opportunity. I’m keeping the baby, but I don’t need your help or your money or anything—don’t worry about that.”
My fingernails are gnawed to stubs by the time I work up a response. “No, Cass. If you say it’s mine, then I’m right here with you. I want to be here, involved as much as I can be. I’ll pay for shit, change fucking diapers, whatever you need. At least, until your dad skins me alive.”
“He doesn’t know… about you. He assumed it’s Derek’s, and I didn’t correct him.”
Good.Great. I don’t know why the thought of Dave believing his daughter got knocked up by her shitty ex gives me heartburn, but it does.
“Yeah, well, you need to tell him. Because it’s about to becomereal fucking obviouswho your baby daddy actually is. I’m not sitting back and letting everybody think you’re pregnant with that dipshit’s baby.”
“Fuck off, Red. You don’t get to saunter in here and tell me what to do. We aren’t friends, we aren’t in a relationship. We had one drunk hookup because I was pissed off at my ex-boyfriend. That doesn’t mean I suddenly like you. I’m not a complete thundercunt, so I’ll let you buy shit for the baby, if you seriously want to be involved.That’s it.”
“Fuck that. If I’m in, I’m all the way in. I’m not just going to be the father who buys the odd box of diapers and visits on Christmas. You think you hate me now? Watch how annoying I can be if you don’t accept my help.”
