Page 22 of More Than Friends

The moment I drive away, I check the text.

LUCY

I’m counting down the days until I see you again. It’s been too long!

I try not to be disappointed at seeing Lucy’s name instead of Jude’s. The great thing about being busy today is that I haven’t had much time to overthink what happened last night and why I haven’t heard from Jude. The bad thing is my shift is coming to an end, and all of the thoughts I’ve pushed away while trying to focus on work are starting to creep in now that I’m not distracted.

I let out a long sigh before beginning to type out a response to Lucy. Just as I’m about to send it, my phone dies.

“Ugh.” My head falls backward as I toss the phone in the seat next to me. Of course it dies while I’m waiting for a text or call from Jude. I’d been too tipsy last night to charge it, and now it’ll be a while before I’m home and able to.

I groan as I pull up to the pro shop. Now that I’m done for the day, I could go home and take the nap I’ve been dreaming about all day. Or I could walk around the club. It’s possible I’ve just missed Jude today and he decided to hang out inside instead of golfing. If his hangover is anything like mine was, maybe that’s what makes the most sense. Maybe he’s hanging out at Pembroke Grill or even meeting with friends in the Gentlemen’s Lounge.

I nod, coming to the decision that I’ll do a lap around Pembroke to look for him. A walk might be good to help clear my mind anyway.

I try not to let myself get disappointed by the fact that every place I look, I still don’t see Jude. I check rooms, hoping that the next one I stop in, I’ll see him. I expect to hear his infectious laugh or see his sandy-brown hair, but he’s nowhere to be found.

When I get into my car, an unease settles over me. I check my glove box and center console to see if I happened to have left a spare charger in here to charge my phone and see if Jude’s texted me now, but I come up short.

I pull my lip between my teeth as I try to reassure myself that nothing with Jude has changed. He’s probably still nursing his hangover and hasn’t had time to call or text. It’s just that it isn’t like Jude to leave me alone. His favorite thing to do is blow up my phone with funny videos and play-by-plays of his day, but just because he didn’t today doesn’t mean anything’s wrong or that anything has changed. It just means he might be feeling the wine from last night more than what he’s used to.

I tell myself that over and over again, but I must not believe it because instead of going home, I head back to Jude’s instead.

TWELVE

JUDE

“How do I even make this?”I mutter, looking at the can of formula in my hands. I’ve read the directions ten times at this point, and I still don’t know if I understand what to do.

How warm should the water be? Do I microwave it or just use warm water from the sink? Is the water from the sink even okay for her to drink? I think it should be—I think I have a filtration system, but now my brain can’t seem to figure out if I’m even qualified to make my daughter—I still can’t believe I have one— a bottle of milk.

I glance at where Ava is lying on the floor and quickly realize I have nothing to contain her in. All Karina gave me were diapers, clothes, the car seat, bottles, and formula. I need so much, but before I can even begin to stock up on baby essentials, I need to feed my daughter. For now, I laid out my nicest, softest blanket on the ground and tossed a bunch of throw pillows on top of it to lie her on. She stays on there for the most part, but it seems like she’s close to rolling because she keeps kicking her legs up and attempting to turn over.

She hasn’t acted like she’s hungry at all, but I don’t know how often babies eat. She was dropped off about an hour ago, and I don’t know how long ago Karina fed her. It feels like she shouldbe hungry soon. Now, if only I could figure out how to make a damn bottle.

I sigh, slipping my phone out of my pocket and calling Charlotte for what my call log says is the fifteenth time in the last hour. I know she worked today, but if I remember her schedule correctly, she should have been off about an hour ago. Every time I call, her phone goes straight to voicemail. Either she’s blocked me, or her phone is dead. I really hope it’s the latter, but there’s a small part of me that wonders if the events from last night got to her more than I was expecting.

I close my eyes for a moment, my grip tightening on the formula can. I got so swept up in Karina dropping a baby off at my doorstep that I haven’t even had time to think about what happened with Charlotte last night.

We almost kissed.

Technically, wedidkiss. Our lips brushed against one another’s for the briefest, most perfect moment.

With my eyes closed, I vividly remember everything about that moment. Her smell, her taste, the sound of her labored breathing as she angled her body closer to mine in anticipation. I squeeze my eyes shut even tighter, doing everything I can to not remember it all.

I wanted more, and by the way she looked at me all night, it felt like she wanted more too. I didn’t try again. She made it clear she didn’t want to kiss me, and I respected that. But the way she looked at me the rest of the night had to have meant something. We fell asleep with her cheek pressed to my chest and my arms effortlessly wrapped around her body like they were meant to hold her.

But then I woke up without her in my arms and shortly after found out that I’m a father to a sweet baby girl. I don’t have time to analyze what did—or didn’t—happen with Charlotte last night.

Right now, I just need my friend to answer her phone. She’s told me all about her siblings and taking care of their kids. I know she has experience with babies, and I could really use her guidance right now. I’m not ready to call anyone else I know who could help me. I don’t even know how to begin to explain Ava to anyone else. But I do know I want to tell Charlotte. I want her here.

I’m mentally kicking myself that I might’ve jeopardized our friendship last night by kissing her when I hear the front door open.

I jump, not expecting anyone to walk in. I hadn’t even thought about locking the door after bringing Ava in because I was too focused on how I’m supposed to take care of a baby.

I have so much to figure out and so much to do, and I don’t even know where to start. There’s no protocol for finding out you have a four-month-old daughter. And not only do I have a daughter, but her mother has left me as the sole caretaker.

My eyes meet Charlotte’s, and for the first time since I found out about being a father, I’m able to let out a small breath of relief.