He shakes his head.
I sit back on his lap a little, placing all my weight on him, running my fingers over his T-shirt, feeling the hard muscles underneath. “They used to call me Rebound Callie.”
I want him to know that this is a safe space between us, and maybe the only way to do that is to confess something about my own past.
“Meaning?”
I don’t look in his eyes, concentrating instead on my finger tracing the lettering on his shirt. “Because it seemed like every time someone dated me and broke it off, they found their person right after me. At first, I laughed it off.”
His fingers flex on my hips.
“But when it kept happening… it’s not like they all got married after me, but I started to believe them anyway. That I was fun for a moment, but not someone to settle down with. I think maybe that’s why I stopped asking guys to take a little more time with me or asked if we could slow it down. I just…” I shake my head. “I started to think I wasn’t worth it, and if I made things difficult, they’d leave.”
Foster’s jaw flexes. “You’re going to give me a list of names, right?”
I laugh and my forehead falls to his shoulder. “But last night, you didn’t make me feel that way. You made me feel the opposite, that I was worth the effort, and I’m not sure you know how much that means to me. I have no idea where we’re headed in the future. This entire co-parenting-with-benefits thing we’ve initiated is probably going to end in disaster, but no matter what, you helped me realize that it’s okay to ask for more. I want to be a sounding board for you. If you’ll trust me.”
“Fuck, Callie. Now I have even more emotions swimming through me.”
I run my hand over his cheek, loving the way the day’s growth scrapes against my palm. “Tell me.”
“First, I want to kick the ass of every guy who ever made you feel used.” I give him a soft smile. “And second, if I go there, I don’t want you looking at me like I’m damaged.”
“Damaged? I would never.”
He licks his lips, and I place my finger under his chin, so he looks me in the eyes.
“Trust me.” I hold up my hand. “I know how hard it is, but we’re growing this little one.” I take his hands from my hips and bring them to my small belly. “We need to understand one another.”
He stares at our hands over my belly. My small ones on top of his large ones.
“Did you know they’re developing facial features and muscles right now?” His palm runs over the bump.
“They are?”
“If they’re like their mom, they’re probably eyeing me pretty hard right now.”
“I think they’re smiling at us.”
I let him think about it while he strokes my small baby bump.
“Our parents divorced when we were nine.” He doesn’t bring his gaze up to meet mine. “At first, they did the split custody thing. But when we were eleven, they split us up. I went to live with my dad, and Decker stayed with our mom.”
His focus remains on my belly, his long fingers gliding along the swell before he lifts my shirt a little so his palm meets warm skin.
“My dad moved us south because you can play longer seasons down there. The first Christmas after we moved, we all saw one another, but after that, it was one excuse after the other as to why we couldn’t go home. My dad had me in camps, in extra lessons, and I wasn’t allowed to miss anything. Mom never came to visit. She and Decker stayed in Philadelphia. They just raised us separately. She didn’t have time for me, so why should I have time for her now?”
His fingers gently tap my belly, and he lifts his gaze to mine. “She said her and Decker were coming down to visit for this one birthday. I remember I was so excited. She was finally going to see me play, and I’d been doing really well that season. And then she just didn’t show up. Then I see Decker share pictures of the season’s hot new bat she bought him and a cake, celebrating at some restaurant with her.”
My heart breaks when I think about him going through that at that age.
“I don’t want anything to do with her. I don’t want our child to get to know her. And why would I? So she can send them a birthday card once a year? That’s not a relationship. Her showing up here now, right after the news broke, I don’t need that. She can wait until Decker has a kid to play grandma.”
His anger is valid, and my chest squeezes painfully for him.
“I understand now, and I’d never push you to have a relationship with her. I’m not a believer that just because you’re blood, you’re family. But would you ever consider talking to her?” He opens his mouth to say something, but I barrel ahead. “Not for her, but for you. To tell her how what she did has affected you. It might be healing for you.”
He huffs and runs one hand over my head, pushing some hair behind my ear. “This is the reason I didn’t want to tell you. You come from this perfect family, and you only know love. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t think you can relate.”
