“You went on one date with Tad and said he was sweet, too, until he told you that you were too weird for him.” A line creased his forehead and his right eye twitched.
“I don’t need you reminding me of my failures,” I snapped, shame washing over me and making me shiver. “I fucked some horrible people, okay?”
Dare sighed and came around the table, taking the seat beside me. He leaned forward and cupped my cheek. “It’s not you, it’s them. They’re bad people, and you’re… amazing. Too innocent for this world.”
“I’m not.” I wanted to shake off his touch, but it felt too good, and I didn’t want to make him stop for real. I leaned into the comfort and closed my eyes instead.
“You are. You deserve the best.” His voice was tantalizingly soft, and between that and his hand on my face, I melted.
“It’s different for gay guys,” I whispered. “So many of them just want to get off. Finding someone who wants a forever is hard.”
“Nah, it’s that way everywhere. You’d be surprised.” He brought me onto his lap, and I went without a fight. Burying my face against his neck, I inhaled the mixture of his sweat and cologne. His arms were long, and it was like he could protect me from life. “Tell me how to help, how to make this easier for you.” He kissed my cheek, then my ear, and I breathed out a soft sigh.
There were so many things I could have told him—fuck me while I have my belly on, confess that you love me as more than a friend. That was a fantasy, though, even if I’d promised Wayne I’d tell Dare the truth. I truly was a coward.
“Can we watch your cartoon together?” I asked.
His eyes widened and he smiled, nodding. “Yeah, let’s binge it. Come on.” He patted my thigh, and I stood from his lap. “I’ll make coffee. Go upstairs and snuggle in bed.”
If only he’d said that to me in a different context. I went up the staircase and brushed my fingers along the fuchsia wall, contemplating if I should repaint it. I reached his bedroom door and stopped. I’d been in here thousands of times before, but it was different somehow. Our secrets were out in the open. I wore a fake pregnant belly, and he watchedMy Little Pony. It was a stepping-stone in our friendship that I hadn’t even known we’d needed to take. But did that mean he was comfortable with the idea of me wearing my belly?
It was a question I wanted to know the answer to. I went into my room and dug through my closet, grabbing my belly. I slid off my shirt and strapped the silicone belly to my real one before I put my shirt back on. Cupping the extra weight, I sighed as a peacefulness swept through me, which was a feeling I couldn’t ever explain to someone else. I was special like this, pregnant and round and waiting for my Daddy to give me what I needed—his dick. Except, I didn’t have a Daddy right now. Damn, I wanted one so bad.
I went to Dare’s room and yanked back the blankets. Holding my breath, I slid underneath the covers and pulled them back over me, so he wouldn’t see the belly when he walked in. It took about five minutes before he was placing a coffee on the nightstand at my side.
“Drink it while it’s hot.” He kissed my forehead, then stepped around to his side of the bed and positioned his mug on that nightstand. When he pulled the blankets back, he paused, eyes widening at the obvious bump at my middle.
I shifted nervously and curled an arm around the bottom of my rounded belly. “It makes me feel safe,” I said quietly, as though I had to argue about why I was wearing it.
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He rubbed his chest, and I took in the sight of him—dark hair, soft against the skin of his forehead and face, warm brown eyes, cherry-red lips. He was a dream come true. “Okay.”
Dare didn’t say any more as he slipped under the blankets and grabbed his iPad. He turned the screen on, peeking at me from the corner of his eye as he clicked the Netflix app and found the show he was looking for. He started an episode, and I held my breath, waiting to see what he’d do as he put the tablet on a stand in front of us on the low table he kept there to work.
To my absolute surprise, he rolled until he was almost on his stomach, curled his arm around my waist, and dragged me closer. My fake belly pressed against his side as he got comfortable with a pillow under his chin. I settled in but didn’t let go of the breath I was holding until we were about ten minutes into the cartoon.
The show was a lot better than I’d originally expected, and instead of focusing on Dare and his reactions, I turned my attention toMy Little Pony. It was so easy to be drawn into the innocent adventures of these animated horses, and by the end of the episode I demanded another, after sucking down half my coffee.
Dare laughed. “You’ll become addicted.”
“I don’t care, another!” I grinned at him as he shook his head and clicked the next episode.
By the time the first season finished playing, Dare was asleep. He had one arm curled under the pillow beneath his head and the other still around me. His light snores were adorable, and his mouth was parted slightly. It was hard not to think of him as handsome, especially as vulnerable as he was now. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen him sleep, but the belly made it new and exciting. Hope stamped its way into my chest. Maybe I did have a chance.
I rubbed my face and slowly slid out from under his arm, which wasn’t easy to do with a baby bump. Getting off the bed required some maneuvering I was used to, and when I was up, I grabbed our cups and took them downstairs to the sink. By the time I returned to his room, he was lying on his back with his leg sticking out from under the blankets.
I laughed quietly, shaking my head. “You’re so adorable.”
He grumbled something I couldn’t understand. I rubbed my belly as I stared at him, imagining what it would be like to sleep with him. We would cuddle up, and he would kiss me, then my bump, and tell me how beautiful I looked. It was a perfect image in my head and made me smile.
I stepped inside the bedroom and dragged the blanket up to his chin. Usually he slept without a shirt on, but there was nothing I could do about that. I didn’t want to try to take it off him, even if we had, essentially, seen each other naked.
Running my fingers down his cheek and jaw, I sighed. “I love you.”
It felt strange to say it to his face, even though he was sleeping, but it was also invigorating. I’d finally said it to him.
“I love you,” I said again, a little louder. Laughing at my stupidity, I shook my head. Childish. I laid a gentle kiss on his forehead, then whispered into his ear, “I love you, Fern. I’ve been in love with you since I was old enough to know what love is. I wish it was you who gave me this bump, fucked me until I was full of you in every way.”
The thought was absurd, and so was I.
