“You didn’t sleep well,” Lo says.
I sigh. “No. Dreamless at least, but no. My waking nightmare is that somehow this psycho is going to be able to prove that her child is mine and then I’m stuck with raising a kid that I don’t want and isn’t mine.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Lo promises. “DNA doesn’t lie.”
“Remember when you asked me if I want children? I think this is going to leave a scar. I’m very muchnotwanting a kid anymore,” I mutter.
“You know what makes gay parents so great?” Lo asks.
I’m not sure what this has to do with anything so I shake my head.
“Because there are no accidents with gay parents. You can’t just stick it in and voilà—conception. Don’t get me wrong, we’re going to try like hell for that outcome. Practice makes perfect and all.”
I snort, laughing. My cheeks heat because they always do with this man.
“But when we have a child, it’s because we want one. No maybes. No ‘we’ll have to deal with it.’ No regrets. No hooking up anonymously in clubs and having a bad decision follow you around for the rest of your life. It’s not easy, and it’s not cheap. It’s a conscious decision that requires us to employ a means to make it happen.”
“I’m not sure all straight parents would agree with most of that,” I say.
“I think if we did a poll and straight parents were honest, there are less planned pregnancies in the world than the pompous idiots in government and church would have you believe,” Lo counters. “My cousin is a damn good mother. She loves her kids. She takes care of them. But I can promise you, not a single one was planned. She’s said more than once that if she’d made different decisions earlier in life, she wouldn’t have seven babies from three men. She’d be traveling the world.”
“How does that make her kids feel?” I muse.
“She says these things to me. Not her kids,” Lo says, laughing. “But my point is, gay men, lesbians—any same sexcouples—can’taccidentallyhave kids. When we want kids, we have to truly work to get them. That means we’ve not only had long discussions about it, we’re also in a place to do so. We’re ready.”
I sigh and close my eyes. Trying to imagine what it would be like under different circumstances. If I were in a different place in my life. If this crazy woman didn’t exist, making some false claims and accusations that are fucking with my life.
And my head.
We lay in bed for a while longer. Since Lo’s also lying in bed, I can almost imagine that we’re in bed together. As if I could feel his body heat. His hand running softly over my skin. If I squint, he’s almost there.
My phone rings and I stretch beyond the tablet to reach it on my nightstand. The tablet falls flat and I hear Lo’s voice muffled because the speaker is now covered by my comforter, “Just so you know, I’m licking your chest right now. And biting your nipple.”
I laugh as I pull my phone to me. My stomach flips when I see it’s Rigo. “I’ll call you back, Lo.”
“Okay,” he says and ends the call as I answer my phone.
“Hi, Rigo.”
“Caulder,” he greets. “How’d you sleep?”
I snort. “Peachy. Please tell me you can make her go away.”
“No. But there are prenatal DNA tests we can do while she’s pregnant.”
My chest gets tight. Why am I nervous? Fuck’s sake—I didn’t touch her!!“Yeah? Let’s do it. Please.”
“I already have it being worked on. Your lawyer is getting the paperwork together to make sure she can’t deny the request for blood.”
I take a breath. “Why would she do that?”
“She’s getting a lot of attention. I’ve spent hours studying her social media and she’s been begging for follows and likes for two years. She finally has it. My guess is she’s going to carry this on for as long as she can.”
I hate her. Have I said this out loud because I really fucking hate her.
“I’m calling about something else, though directly related.” My shoulders tense. “I’ve sent you an image of a stilled section of her video. Take a look.”
“I really don’t want to. I deleted my accounts so I don’t have to see any of it.”
