“Jealous of what?”
“She thinks you are trying to give her a ride home so you can spend time with Desiree.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Maybe not to you, but in girl math, it absolutely adds up.”
“Girl math?” he repeated.
Frankie nodded.
“I don’t think you’re using that term correctly, and I don’t want to spend time with Desiree.”
“Tomato-tomahto, and you should probably go tell her that.” Frankie patted AJ on the shoulder.
Frankie was one of the few people in his life that physical contact with was tolerable.
Even though he wasn’t convinced Frankie was right, he trusted her, and she’d never steered him wrong. He went into the kitchen and found Poppy with Zion and a man AJ had never seen before.
AJ walked up, and without asking her if he could speak to her, because he was fairly certain she’d say no, he said, “I don’t want to spend time with Desiree Dove. You are the only person I want to spend time with. The only reason I’m here, at this party, is because of you.” He turned to Zion. “No offense.”
Zion lifted his hands up and grinned. “None taken.”
AJ turned his attention back to Poppy. “I’ve been at this party for hours just waiting for you to be ready to go home. I asked if you wanted to go because you looked tired. So, I’m going to ask you again, are you ready to go?”
She stared up at him, and he could see that tears were forming in her eyes, but this time they were happy tears. Her smile grew wider, and she replied, “Yes.”
He took the soda water from her hand and set it on the counter. “Good, let’s go home.”
26
Poppy pulledher jeans up and automatically sucked in her stomach as she tugged the edges of the waistband together to attempt to button them, but it was a lost cause. She had officially grown out of her first pair of jeans. In fairness, they had always run a little small for her. She pushed them down her legs and grabbed another from her drawer. Before pulling them on, she turned and looked in the mirror. Her belly was definitely belly-ing. She’d been doing her best not to pay too much attention to her condition just in case…the fact that she was referring to her pregnancy as a condition was proof of that. But she knew, deep down, that if the worst happened, she would be devastated. Completely, totally, devastated.
She shook that thought off as she stepped into the second pair of jeans. They were a little snug, but she was able to zip and button with no issues.
In two days she had her twelve-week checkup. After that she’d tell people. She placed her hand on her belly, which, as of now, looked bloated, but in a month or so, she doubted she’d be able to keep it a secret even if she wanted to.
After pulling her hair up in a ponytail and putting on a hoodie, she checked the time. Shit, she was running late and would have to skip breakfast. And she didn’t even have a power bar because she’d spent the afternoon creating Wednesday Adams instead of doing her weekly shopping. She’d have to grab something while she was out.
She had to get going because she was scheduled to see the house and to work on it today with AJ, and she wanted to get an early start, but after coming home late from the party, she hit the snooze not once but twice this morning, so now she barely had enough time to brush her teeth.
Last night something transpired between them. She wasn’t quite sure what it was, but it was something. Still, even with that, nothing had changed. She told herself she wasn’t disappointed, but she was lying. Her heart ached just thinking about the way he’d remained quiet on the drive home. When they got home, he walked her up to the door and told her goodnight. That was it. Once she was inside, he turned around and walked back to his house.
As she replayed the night over in her head, she realized that she’d probably seemed crazy getting jealous of him. They weren’t together. They were friends who had enjoyed benefits a couple of times, and he’d been supportive of her. He said things, nice things about liking her, but he could mean that as a friend, a friend who is carrying his child.
And she’d been the one to set the boundaries. She’d said no sleepovers, no more sexy-time showers, and it was for her own protection. If she spent every night with the man doing all the things she wanted to do with him and then he left, she wasn’t sure she could survive it.
Her phone rang with a FaceTime and she was about to hit ignore when she saw who it was, and nerves began to pop in her belly like corn kernels in a pot of grease. She’d spoken toMiss Carol on the phone but hadn’t FaceTimed since she found out she was expecting. If she kept making excuses as to why she wasn’t available for a FaceTime, she was scared her honorary grandma was going to show up on her porch.
She pressed the green accept button, and white curly hair, round rosy cheeks, and square red-rimmed glasses filled the screen. Miss Carol worked as Mrs. Santa Claus every holiday season and went as Betty Crocker for Halloween on more than one occasion.
“How was the party? Did you kiss under whatever the Halloween equivalent of mistletoe is?” Miss Carol always got straight to the point and skipped formal greetings.
“It was good, and I don’t think there is a Halloween equivalent of mistletoe, but even if there was, there was no lip action at all.”
“Well, there should be. How is school? How is your mom? How is the new job? New house?”
“School is hard, harder than I thought it would be.” In fairness, that might have something to do with other factors that were distracting her, though. “Mom is good, I think she is seeing someone, she keeps asking me to go to dinner.”
