I shake my head and laugh, my hand strangling my fork. “Behave yourself.”
Like a damn dog with a bone, I’m fighting off the temptation to do just that, but I wouldn’t stop at her cheek. I wouldn’t be able to.
“Where’s the fun in that?” She flutters her lashes and snatches up her napkin to wipe at the imaginary sauce on her face. “But really, Noah, what am I meant to do?”
“Wait,” I tell her simply and selfishly.
“I’m not getting any younger, you know,” she huffs, her fork turning heavier as she stabs her food, “I want babies.”
I nearly fucking choke on my wine. It’s not the first time she’s brought up kids; it won’t be the last, and biologically, I know time isn’t on her side when it comes to having them. Of course, there are options, but Sidney wants the entire experience; she has since she was just a kid herself.
“Is that all?” I rub the nape of my neck and place my fork down, my gut churning.
“Well, no, but if I had to pick, then yes. Throw the whole man away and just give me the babies.” I know she’s only joking, but it doesn’t stop the absolutely unhinged idea that forms from it. “I’d be a great mom.”
“You would,” I rasp, pulling at the neck of my shirt.
“Are you okay?” She frowns, leaning over to place her hand on my forearm.
“It’s fucking hot in here,” I growl as I abruptly get up from the table to storm over to the balcony and rip the doors open. A swift, late summer breeze sweeps past as I step out, hands going to the railing. I glance at the immaculate porcelain tiles and see no leaves.
“Noah?” Sidney steps out behind me, her hand running down my spine. “What happened?” My body reacts, skin breaking out in goosebumps, muscles quivering from her touch alone.
I can’t get the stupid fucking crazy idea out of my head. It’s on the tip of my tongue to suggest it, but I’m biting down, hard enough that a metallic taste fills my mouth.
Don’t fucking say it, Noah.
“Was it the baby talk?” Her smile is bright as she forces herself into my field of vision.
Fuck.
“I don’t know what it is about men and babies,” she rolls her eyes, “It’s not like I askedyouto father my babies.”
God damn it.
I’m going to throw myself off this balcony; it’s the only thing I can do to stop me from saying the absolutely insane thing I am about to suggest.
“Let me do it,” I blurt.
“Let you do what?” She leans on the balcony and looks down on the city below, at ease, the wind teasing her hair, the lights behind her kissing her skin just right.
“Get you pregnant.” My neck is burning, and no amount of chill is stopping it.
Shit. I said the quiet part out loud.
She whips her head toward me, “That’s not funny, Noah.”
“I’m not joking.”
“Has the wine gone to your head?” She stares at me, “Or did you actually hit your head? Do I need to take you to the hospital?”
“Sidney,” I shift on my feet, curling my fingers into my palms until the tips of my nails bite, “I’m being serious.”
“Why would you say that?” Blotches of color bloom on her cheeks.
“You want a baby; I have the parts to give that to you. I mean, we’ve been friends most of our lives. You trust me.”
“Oh my god, youareserious.”
