And she did.
* * *
Watching Pixie fight against herself, and then explode against him left him teetering on the edge.That low-grade vibration in his balls wasn’t going anywhere and if she continued to rub against him, he might come in his jeans.In fact, he should.Show her how fucking hot she was.
She’d collapsed on his chest, and stayed there.If it weren’t for the occasional kiss on his chest, he’d swear she was asleep.
The clock on the wall said he was all out of hours.Thankfully there hadn’t been any more snow since yesterday morning when he’d collected her so it promised to be a quick ride to the airport.He wasn’t ready to let her go.Miami seemed like a million miles away, and their time together suddenly felt as though it had been hurried and rushed.What he really wanted to do was fall asleep with her like this and stay that way for at least a couple more days.
He patted her back.“As much as I hate to say this, we need to go.”
Pixie sat up slowly and rubbed her eyes.“So soon?”
Dred sat up and wrapped his arms around her.He kissed her gently.“Unfortunately, yup.Thank you.For sharing all this with me.”
Pixie smiled shyly.“I think I should be thanking you.Are you going to be okay?”
Dread laughed.“As long as you don’t have a problem with masturbation, I’ll be fine.”
“It’s been my best friend for years,” she said teasingly.“Let me get cleaned up.”
He watched her walk into his bathroom and stood, rearranging himself into a bearable potion to drive.His phone rang.Dr.Meltz.
“Hello,” he said, picking up his car keys.
“Mr.Zander.I have your results.I know you were anxious to get them.”Anxious?Understatement of the year.
Dred sat on the edge of the bed.He could hear Pixie singing, always one of those ridiculous Broadway songs.With one smile, I’m the girl next door.Or the love that you’ve hungered for.
“And?”
“The combined paternity index was slightly under thirty seven thousand to one.In other words, the probability of you being Petal Veitch’s father is ninety nine point ninety nine percent.”
I have a child.I have a child.I have a child.Fuck.
Dred hung up the phone without saying good-bye.He stormed out of the room, and pounded up the stairs to Jordan’s room, needing to be away from Pixie and the perfect afternoon they’d had.With physical space between them, perhaps he could control the raging disappointment in himself.Without knocking, he threw the door open so hard, the handle penetrated the drywall.
Jordan jumped to his feet.“You okay?”
Dred gagged.Couldn’t answer as bile and puke and whatever else was in his stomach fought to escape.He turned and punched the wall.“No.”He punched it again.“No.”And again, and again until there was no skin left on his knuckles.Rage permeated his very being.He had no place being a father.What child would be happy to call the unwanted son of a fucking junkie their father?When the top part of the wall was nothing but studs and insulation, he began on the bottom.Kicking it and using his knees until he was covered in dust, and all out of energy.He slumped down against the decimated wall, pulled his knees up to his chest, and rested his bleeding hands over them.
“Why, Jordan.Fucking why?”
He heard Jordan’s footsteps as he stepped through the carnage of drywall on the floor.The door closed, then Jordan sat down next to him.
“Did you make it up here before you lost it?Is Pixie okay?”Jordan’s voice was calm.
“Yeah.She was in the bathroom.”
“So you’re a dad, huh?”
Dred nodded.“I can’t ...I don’t know how ...”
“We’ll figure it out.But right now, you need to get your shit together.Make up some sort of excuse as to why you suddenly look like you took a flour bath, and get Pixie on her way home.Fake everything being okay for another couple of hours.”
Dred looked around Jordan’s pitiful attic room.A simple bed with one pillow and a comforter.One small wardrobe stood to his left, holding a minimal amount of clothing.No curtains at the windows, no rugs to soften the hard flooring.It had been a fight to get him to accept the central heat and air in the gloomy space when they’d renovated the place.A thin layer of dust floated in a sliver of sunlight.
“I’m sorry I destroyed your room.”
