“I’m not drinking anymore. The night at The Horseshoe was the final nail in that fucking coffin—haven’t had a single sip since then. I know it hasn’t been very long yet, but I swear I’m done for good. Not because I think I’m addicted like my dad is. But I don’t like how similar I am to him when I’ve been drinking, or when I’m in your dad’s bar. I know I have a temper on the best of days, and there’s something about that atmosphere—I’m unable to stop myself. I just… black out. And every time I drink, there’s this little voice in my head questioning if this is it. Ifthisis the beer that pushes me over the edge and makes me become him. If one more beer is going to make me an alcoholic like him or make me drunk enough to hurt somebody I love. And…” The corded muscles of his neck tighten and bob with a hard swallow. “I can’t live with that fear anymore. I don’t want Little Spud to be embarrassed by me. Definitely don’t wantyouto be embarrassed or have to deal with my shit. None of this bothered me before. It didn’t matter what anyone thought of me. I was fine being a let-down… A fuck up… A loser.”
“That’s not—” I start, but his narrowing glance cuts me off. I make a motion like I’m zipping my lips and nod for him to continue.
“Sorry. This shit has been running through my brain for fucking ever, and I want to say it out loud to somebody other than Heathen here.” He tilts his head toward the horse in the stall next to him. After a long, shaky exhale, he continues, “It’s just who I was, even though I didn’t always like it. I didn’t give enough of a shit to change. But then, you told me you were pregnant. Now I don’t want to be those things anymore—really don’t want to doanythingmy dad would. I’m not saying this to win you over or make you feel bad for me, by the way. I just want you to know I’m sorry and I’m trying to be better.”
I press my fingers to my tear ducts, holding back the sob rising in my throat. Biting my lip to stop it from quivering, I stare at him through my eyelashes. Waiting for the gentle nod to indicate he’s done.
“I didn’t come here because I wanted an apology. I’m here for you. To make sure you’re okay. You might think those things about yourself, but I don’t. I know after the night at the bar, I didn’t seem sure. Well…honestly, I wasn’t sure. And that was fucked up of me because I know you—the you most other people don’t bother getting to know. I should have trusted you wouldn’t do that for no good reason.”
“I didn’t tell you the reason because it didn’t matter. No excuse would make it okay that I put you in that situation. Having you hate me felt like a deserved consequence after I embarrassed you, hurt you, and then walked away.”
“I wish you’d told me. Not because I think it would’ve made me less mad. But I deserved to know… to have you talk to me.” A chill scatters over my skin.
“Really? Because you weren’t talking to me either.” His eyes are red and glassy when they meet mine. “Where have you been?”
“What?”
“Before the shit at the bar, you weren’t around. So, sure… I guess I could’ve talked to you about shit when you cornered me in the parking lot, but you made it clear we didn’t have that kind of relationship anymore. You went on your trip and basically fucking disappeared. I get it—you don’t want to date me. Your rejection didn’t come as a shock, even if it didn’t feel great.” His face scrunches like he’s just torn open a fresh wound. “Shit, you didn’t even want anyone to know we slept together until it became nearly impossible to keep a secret. But I don’t blame you ’cause I know I’m not your first choice.” Chase’s hands fall against his sides with a resonating thud.
I swipe a tear from my jawline, continuing the path upward to massage my temple slowly. If I hadn’t panicked and cut him out entirely, things would still be good. We’d be friends. We’d be having amazing sex. And I would still be painfully pretending I’m not falling in love with him.
“Just because I didn’t want people to know before doesn’t mean I feel the same way now. I know I should have been honest about us a lot sooner instead of making you think I was ashamed. Because I’m not.”
“Can I be honest?” His tongue darts out to lick his lips, and his gaze burns clear through me. “Ineverwanted to be your fucking friend or your friend-with-benefits or your goddamn co-parent. But I would settlefor any of those titles if it meant going back to cooking you dinner and watching crappy reality shows on your couch, and falling asleep with you. Beingatyour doctor’s appointments, glaring at Dr. Dickhead—not getting a text message after. I want to be holding your hand when you have our baby and see your eyes light up when you hold her for the first time. I want to take care of you so you can take care of her. Hell, I even want to change a shitty diaper at two o’clock in the morning.”
I blink down, letting tears splatter on the dusty floor.
“And it fucking sucks to know I maybe had all of that before I opened my mouth and suggested something as laughable as—” His voice falters with a flustered, sharp inhale. A fist comes up to cover his mouth, and he exhales hard through his nose.
“I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I was trying not to muddy things more than we already did. And to get back to the way we were before we started sleeping together.”
“If that were the case, I could deal with not having things work out the way I wanted. Like I said, I didn’t expect you to agree to more in the first place. But we haven’t been friends. Haven’t even been fucking co-parents, honestly. You texted me an ‘all’s good’ after your doctor’s appointment and that was pretty much it.”
I’m chewing the inside of my cheek to shreds, fighting with myself over what to tell him. Considering I’ve had multiple days alone—and an hour-long drive to the ranch—to think about it, I should have a vague idea of what I want to say.
Instead, I’m still sitting on a jagged, splintering, wobbly fence. No way of knowing which way I’ll jump or fall. Whether he’ll catch me, or I’ll crack my head open humpty-dumpty–style on the concrete.
“I’m sorry,” I finally croak in the nick of time before the tears spill. I wipe frantically at my eyes, smearing black mascara across my hands and, likely, my face.
Before the fence crumbles beneath me, I leap to the side that feels right. Where there’s a reasonable probability of landing safely. Comfortably. And in his arms.
“I don’t want to be friends. I want…” A fluttering breath rattles my chest. “All the same things you do. I said I needed boundaries because I like you, and it scared me. When you mentioned being together, I panicked when I should’ve talked to you. But I was so worried I only liked you because of the pregnancy hormones, or you were being nice to me because I’m carrying your baby. Or we’re forced together by circumstance and like each other because we’re stuck together. I didn’t want Little Spud to be the sole reason behind us being together. After the bar fight, I was scared—not of you. Scared I would need to keep those boundaries up forever because,God, I didn’t want to. I just needed time to sort out all my emotions and determine if my fears were unfounded. And they are… aren’t they?”
The seconds between when I finish my sentence and he opens his mouth are a free fall. I’ve never been sky-diving, but I imagine this stomach in your throat, whirlwind in your skull, and panic in your chest are what you feel while plummeting to the Earth.
He sucks on his teeth. “You tell me.”
“I think we wouldn’t have ended up here if it weren’t for Little Spud, but that’s not why I have feelings for you now. We work and make sense andfitin a way I’ve never experienced. You’re my first choice. You’re good enough, Chase.”
My eyes drop from his for a fraction of a second. Then his hand’s on my jaw, pulling my chin upward with a sharp movement. Begging me to look at him. “Maybe youarejust hormonal as fuck, because I think every single person we know would agree I’m not good enough for you.”
“Why does it matter what anybody thinks outside of you and me? I wish I’d gotten to know who you really are sooner. I’m sorry for that.”
He shakes his head skeptically. “I don’t even know if I’m capable of being a good man. I’ve never given a fuck about much… until you. But I want to do better for my girls. One day I want to be deserving of you.”
His words make my heart race until I’m unable to stop my body from moving into his. My belly hits first, and I cringe, preparing for it to ruinthe moment. With a contented sigh, Chase leans into it, spreading a hand across my lower back to keep me close.
His eyes shutter, holding back whatever thoughts are running through his mind. Vapour from our breaths fills the quickly narrowing space between us and, despite that, I don’t feel cold in the slightest. Hot embers spread under my skin, ignited by his touch and growing hotter by the second. When he leans down, my arms instinctively swing around his neck, pulling him the rest of the way.
