“Do you have a rag or anything?” My hands were filthy and streaked with grease. She shook her head. “How far do you live from here?”
“I’m not going to tell you where I live. That’s an open invitation to come and murder me.”
“Collins, if I were going to murder you, I would have done it while you were next to me.” She thought about it. “I’m going to follow you home to make sure you get there. The pressure in that spare is low.”
“You’ve already done so much for me. You don’t have to do that.”
“I don’t, but I’m going to. It’s really late, so if we can just jump over the whole conversation, that would be amazing.”
I thought for sure she would argue with me, but she didn’t. She got behind the wheel, and I followed her to her little house, where the grass was a bit overgrown. When she got out of her car, she held up her hand. “I feel really bad about before,” she said. “Please come in and wash your hands. It’s the least I can do.”
I thought about turning her down. I should have turned her down. But the smile she gave me in that moment made me forget my own rule. “I promise not to murder you.”
I followed her into her house and washed my hands. When she handed me a towel to dry them, that’s when it happened. I kissed her, and it went from a kiss to a serious make-out session, and the next thing I knew, we were in her bed.
I should have left when we were done having sex the first time. Instead, I got up, got rid of the condom, and then watched her turn on the shower. I left the room for a split second to get the second condom. It was a tight fucking squeeze in her tiny shower, but I put my mouth exactly where I got a quick taste before I took her the first time. Her back was against the wall, one of my hands playing with her nipple while the other fucked her, and my mouth sucked on her clit. It took less than three minutes for her to come on my tongue. A sweetness I have never tasted before. It took me less than ten seconds to slip the second condom on, or at least try to. Before I even got the packet in between my teeth, she was on her knees in front of me, the base of my cock in her hand, the tip in her mouth.
We fell into her bed not long after that, our bodies still damp. It was then that I finally got the second condom on and, unlike the first time, I took my time with her.
I should have made an excuse after round two, but I didn’t. I lay there in her bed and listened to her breathing. It was the first time I had ever done that, and I didn’t even understand it at the moment.
“Fuck,” I hiss out, looking up at the water and then closing my eyes when it runs down my face. “You’re a goddamn idiot,” I tell myself. One-night stands are my norm, but it didn’t sit well with me as I was leaving. I knew I would see her in town, eventually, since she lived here. It was as if I was waiting for it to happen, but I never expected it to be today, my first day back. Not in a million years.
Tomorrow we’ll have coffee, and I’ll apologize, then it’ll be over, I decide. I turn the water off and step out, grabbing a towel. “Hopefully, at the end of it all, we can be friends.”
CHAPTER FIVE
COLLINS
The soft bells of the alarm chime, and my eyes flicker open, blinded by the hot sun filtering into the room through see-through shades. My hand comes out from under the cover as I reach over and slap the phone to stop the noise. I close my eyes again, exhaustion coming to me right away as I drift back to sleep. I’m almost at the deep part of my sleep when the alarm goes off again. I groan, shutting it off, but this time I turn over on my back, throwing one leg out from under the blanket. My hand goes to the bottom of my stomach, placing it palm down on it.
“Good morning, nugget.” The nausea creeps up on me, and my mouth fills with saliva as I exhale through my mouth, trying to push it away. “Why are we starting off the day angry?” It usually works, but this morning it does not. I fly off the bed and barely make it to the toilet before I’m throwing up. My head rests on my arm as I wait for my stomach to get under control. I spit one more time before flushing and falling onto my ass. “I’m going to need you to be a bit kinder to me.” I put my back against the wall and close my eyes. “All I did was say good morning. There was no reason for you to be rude like that.”
I don’t know how long I sat here, but when I get back to my knees, another wave of nausea hits me. “I get it. You’re hungry. You’re growing. I’m going to feed you, but if you keep making me throw up, it’ll be longer until I get some food into you. Help me help you.”
I turn on the water in the small bathroom, which features a combination bathtub and shower, a toilet, and a small sink. The tiles have seen better days, and it’s on my list of things to get done, but now with this little surprise, it will be a while until I can renovate the house. I put toothpaste on the toothbrush and look down at my stomach. “This is spearmint flavor since you weren’t a fan of peppermint.” I put the toothbrush in my mouth and start to brush my teeth. When I’m done, I rinse my mouth and then check my reflection and the circles under my eyes. “You’ve seen better days, Collins. You need twenty-four hours of straight sleep.”
I walk out of my bathroom and head to the kitchen. “Okay, so what are we going to have today?” Ever since I found out I was pregnant, I talk to the baby as if they were here in the room with me. I know that right now they probably have no idea what I’m saying, but it makes me feel like I’m not alone in this. “Yesterday you weren’t a fan of the scrambled eggs, even though I was very much looking forward to them.” I grab a bagel. “This should be good,” I say, cutting it in half and then placing it in the toaster. “You know what I would love?” I look at the coffee machine. “A nice fat coffee.” The minute I say it, it’s as if the baby knows because I get queasy. “I said I would love it, I didn’t say we would be having it.” I walk to the fridge and open it back up, grabbing the cream cheese and orange juice I’ve come to love and crave. It’s crazy that this little thing is already making me do things I don’t normally do.
I smear cream cheese on the bagel and then pour a glass of orange juice before grabbing the plate and the glass and heading outside. Pushing open the storm door and stepping out to the porch in the back, I sit at the top of the wooden steps, placing the plate on one side and then the glass on the other. Before, I usually had my breakfast curled up on the couch watching television, but ever since I found out I was pregnant, I like to have my breakfast outside, enjoying the fresh air. It would help if I had a table to sit at, but this is good enough.
“It’s going to be a good day,” I announce, taking a bite of my bagel. “We are going to tell Theo I’m having his baby and hope he doesn’t think I did it on purpose. Because we both know this is the last thing I thought I would be getting out of my first-ever one-night stand.” I put the bagel down. “You really were like, Hold my beer, let me show you why you should never do that again.” I laugh at my own joke. “He was really hot.” I take a sip of the orange juice. “I mean, he’s still hot, but he lost a lot of hotness points sneaking out on me.” I take another bite. “I mean, in my defense, I worked almost a double shift and then had the best sex of my life, so I was really sleeping hard.” I shrug. “But who knows, maybe he’s a professional burglar, so he knows how to tiptoe out without anyone catching him. That would be funny, wouldn’t it? If he were a burglar.” I close my eyes as my chest gets tight.
“Your grandparents are considered thieves, and maybe your father is as well. I know it doesn’t sound like it bodes well for you, but I promise you, I will not let you turn out like them.” The back of my neck gets hot, and my eyes start to sting. “I’m also going to ask you to stop making me cry so damn much. It’s starting to mess with my street cred.” I chuckle. “I’m kidding, I don’t have any street cred.”
I finish the bagel as leaves catch in the breeze. A couple of squirrels chase each other as a flock of birds flies by. I pick up my stuff and head back inside the little house I’ve come to love with all my heart, something that is finally mine and only mine. It’s a two-bedroom house I used to rent. Even renting this place, I knew I was finally seeing the light. I got it for cheap since I also did all the upkeep for the owner. When he unexpectedly passed away, I thought I would have to move. I was dreading it. His son lives out of state, so I knew he would be looking to just sell it. When he came into town for the funeral, I got the dreaded knock at the door. Except he wasn’t kicking me out. He was offering to sell the house to me. He sat with me on the couch that I got from an estate sale and laid it all out for me.
Sadly, I had to turn him down, knowing there was no way I would be able to even get a mortgage under my name. Not many twenty-seven-year-olds have declared bankruptcy twice. Once, when I was almost nineteen, and the collection calls started, I found out my parents had taken out five credit cards in my name. Then I found out I was twenty-two thousand dollars in debt, which to some doesn’t seem to be a lot, but when you’re eighteen, it feels like a million dollars. I tried my hardest to pay it off, but I just couldn’t keep up with it. My credit went to shit. Then I had to declare bankruptcy again when I found out my mother used my social to rent their apartment, the one they kicked me out of. They went a full year without paying rent before being evicted. I was responsible for the payments, unless I pressed charges on them. I didn’t. I couldn’t.
The minute I said no to buying the house, my heart sank. I don’t know what happened or why, but he must have felt sorry for me. Because he came back the next day with an offer. Instead of paying him rent to stay here, I would pay him rent to own the house. We went to a lawyer and had it drafted up. Every single month, he’d get his payment, and in ten years, the house would be mine. The only thing my parents didn’t know I owned. They would never know.
I wipe down the counter before walking back into the bedroom and opening the closet. “What does one wear when they are going to tell their one-night stand that she’s having a baby and it’s his?” I ask as I move the hangers across the rod. “Definitely not a dress.” I shake my head, looking at the two dresses I own. “Shorts, maybe?” I turn to the dresser, pulling out the drawers and grabbing a pair of dark-green linen shorts.
I slip off my pajama bottoms before sliding the shorts on and grabbing my white bra, and then a white T-shirt. I head to the bathroom as I try to cover the circles under my eyes before applying a coat of mascara. I brush my hair, leaving it down, even though once I get to work, I’m going to tie it up.
My phone rings, and I’m expecting it to be the alarm, but it’s not. It’s Finley calling. “Hello.” I put it on speakerphone and go about packing my things.
“Hello, yourself,” she huffs out, and I laugh. Finley and I became friends about four years ago when we were both on one of those cold case forum pages. We had the same theory, and then we started chatting in real life. She’s the closest thing I have to a best friend, and it’s probably because she has no idea who I really am. It’s maybe why I’ve told her everything about me. “You texted me at 3:00 a.m., and all you said was, ‘Baby daddy has been located.’”
