The Enemy Trap

by Maren Moore

  Sarah makes a face that says she's as in love with Hayes as I pretend to be.

  The rest of the interview is quick and thankfully goes off without a hitch. Hayes has the entire world fooled that he's the doting, hopelessly in love fiancé, and I'm the lucky lady to be. Just as Kyle would have hoped.

  “I love seeing this side of you, Hayes. Sophia, let’s see the ring, girl!”

  I extend my hand, showing her the absolutely ridiculous, most not me ring on the planet, and her jaw drops.

  “Wow, he did good!” She grins and gives the camera a wink. "Well guys, thank you so much for coming today. I had a great time learning more about you, Sophia, and Hayes, I just have to say...you are one lucky man. Not only is she beautiful, but she's obviously also as crazy about you as you are about her. I wish you two a lifetime of happiness. Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials. I can't wait to see the venue that you choose!"

  With that, she smiles at the camera, and the lights come on.

  It's over.

  I exhale. We made it.

  Surprisingly, I'm less nervous than I was when I walked in, but that's because I can't stop thinking about what Hayes said.

  When we're home and I finally kick off the wedges that have my feet aching, Hayes looks at me and says, "Thank you, Sophia. For doing that for me."

  I nod, unsure of how to respond.

  Things are...strange between us. We're caught between what's real and what's pretend. The lines are hazy, and I’m honestly not sure which is which.

  Fourteen

  Hayes

  14 Weeks

  I relieve stress by working out, losing myself in the weight room and lifting until my arms are sore from the exertion. That's my answer to most of life's problems: avoid them. Except my problem just happens to be my new live-in roommate who's pregnant with my baby and is a tiny, fun-sized ball of pregnant hormones. One second, she wants to throw herself at me to be ravaged, and the next, she gives me a look that tells me to stay far, far away.

  I’m getting whiplash, but I've learned one thing in the past two weeks when it comes to Sophia St. James.

  She wants me just as much as I want her.

  And that’s where my problem begins.

  Since she walked through my front door, I haven’t been able to get her out of my head. I can’t imagine touching someone that isn’t her. I want my baby mama, and I want her over and over until she’s mine to touch in every way. I want every moan that leaves her mouth on my lips and on my tongue—so I can savor it.

  Great, now I'm walking around with a hard on and even more tight than I was when I walked into my weight room. I groan inwardly as I adjust myself and walk towards the living room, where Sophia's sitting cross legged on the couch, baby name books spread out beside her.

  We are going to the doctor today for her second appointment, and this will be the first one I've been able to attend. I'm nervous but excited and hopeful I get to see the ultrasound.

  When I walk across the threshold, Sophia looks up, her deep blue eyes widening then traveling down my shirtless torso that's gleaming with sweat after my workout. She catches herself as her eyes drift past my hips, and she scowls.

  "Do you ever wear a shirt?" she grumbles, chewing the end of her highlighter and tearing her gaze from me.

  "Nope," I let the p pop and grin, moving to stand over her. She's got tons of names highlighted in at least five different books, and some are different colors.

  "Are you...color coordinating baby names?"

  Her stormy eyes meet mine and her brow furrows, "Yes Hayes. Choosing the name your child is going to have forever is a hard decision. It's one we should make after a lot of thought and deliberation. We can't just name her Sally and call it a day."

  I laugh, "Okay, what about Berta? After my aunt."

  I'm one hundred percent fucking with her, but the look of terror that crosses her face makes it completely worth it.

  "I…uh…I mean, we can add it to the li-" she stutters.

  "I'm joking, St. James. Don't worry, I won't condemn our child to a life of bullying with the name Berta."

  She throws one of the books at me, which I catch with ease. I look down at the book I'm holding, and the name Leighton stands out to me from the page.

  "I like this name." I show her, "Leighton."

  "That's one of my favorites, too." She smiles up at me warmly, and I want to gather her in my arms and kiss her fucking breathless.

  The woman is so effortlessly beautiful. Even more so now that she's carrying my child. I feel a sense of...possession. Like a caveman who wants to beat his chest and let everyone know that she's mine. That's what I feel when I’m in her presence—and fuck, even when I’m not.

  I put that baby in her belly. My baby.

  And I want her to be my girl, but I know that I have a lot of stuff to prove to Sophia before that can ever happen.

  But even in the couple of short weeks that she's been here, we've fallen into a comfortable routine. One that I can’t see myself ever living without again. As much as she hated me before this started, I'm shocked that she hasn't tried to murder me in my sleep. If anything, we've become friends. Friends who will be raising a child together.

  "I'm going to go shower before the appointment. Need anything?" I ask.

  She shakes her head, still staring intently at the name books rather than my shirtless chest, which I know is killing her. When she's frustrated, she gets this little crinkle in her nose and between her brow.

  "We're running dangerously low on Toaster Strudel."

  "Can't let that happen, can we? We can stop at the grocery store after your appointment and stock up on the essentials: strawberry and blueberry."

  That earns me a smirk, "You know the way to my heart."

  If it was that easy, then the whole winning over the mother of my child thing is going to be a piece of cake. I'll buy her all of the Toaster Strudel in the world. By the fucking truck load.

  After I quickly shower and dress in a pair of slacks and a button down, I rejoin Sophia in the living room. She's wearing a long, dark dress that shows off every curve she has. Her hair is down, curled in waves down her back, but what really stops me is that she's wearing the smallest amount of makeup. On her eyes.

  Fuck, she is gorgeous.

  I clear my throat as I walk in, and she smiles, "Ready?"

  "More than ready."

  Together, we leave the house, and I open the door of my truck, helping her inside. She's so short she almost needs a boost to get in—my tires are huge snow tires and are lifted a bit.

  Shit, this isn't practical for a newborn, is it?

  She must see the worry written on my face because she laughs as she buckles her seatbelt, "Relax, we have plenty of time to worry about driving arrangements, okay?"

  I nod and shut the door behind her, walking around to get in on my side and pulling my truck out onto the highway. We ride in comfortable silence, and thankfully her doctor isn't far from the house. It makes me feel better that, on the off chance I can’t make it to an appointment, she won’t have to drive far.

  The doctor's office is bright, clean, and welcoming as we walk through the front door. There are posters depicting various stages of pregnancy and babies on the wall, and although I don't feel uncomfortable, I realize I am so far out of my element.

  I take a seat in the waiting room chairs while Sophia checks in. Fuck, my palms are sweaty. Is this normal? To be nervous just attending a doctor's appointment?"

  "You okay?" she asks, taking a seat next to me.

  "Of course. Why?"

  Laughing she brings her hand to my forehead and wipes away a sheen of sweat, "Well, you're clammy for one. It's okay. They're just going to do an ultrasound, make sure she-"

  "Or he."

  She nods, "Yes, or he...is growing right, and then she'll go over any questions that we have. It's too early to find out the gender right now, but I think we’ll be able to in the next few weeks."

  Her
eyes light up in excitement, and it calms me. She's right, everything is going to be fine, and I'll get to see the baby.

  "Miss. St. James?" A nurse pops her head out from behind the door, calling us to the back.

  With Sophia leading the way, I wipe my clammy palms on the front of my slacks and follow her through the door. The nurse gives me a kind smile, and I smile back, although it probably looks strained.

  I've skated in a rink surrounded by over a hundred thousand people screaming and chanting my name. I’ve been on the cover of countless magazines and had paparazzi scale the fence of my house for a photo. I’ve been to award shows where the entire world was watching on live television. And never once have I felt nervous. But now? I'm fucking sweating.

  I’d never even been fazed by the idea that the entire world might see me fuck up and make a mess of my life. But now, with Sophia carrying my child and counting on me to do right, I cared. It mattered. I didn't want her faith in me to falter, and no matter what, I was going to do right by her and the baby.

  "Right this way." The nurse smiles, clutching her clipboard as she directs us into a room at the end of the hallway. Once inside, she shuts the door behind us while Sophia sits on the exam table, all smiles.

  At least she's not nervous.

  "Okay, Mom, congratulations!" Cheery nurse smiles then glances at me. "And you must be dad?"

  I nod, giving her a nervous grin.

  "First time dad, if I had to guess. I can feel the nerves from here."

  Shit, not only do I feel nervous, I look it. C'mon Davis, get it together.

  "Yeah, just a bit nervous. Big responsibility." I laugh.

  Sophia grins, "He's more nervous than I am. I told him, it's just a checkup and everything will be fine. If we're lucky, we'll get to see her."

  "Ah, do you two think it's a girl? What's your preference?" she asks.

  I shrug, "I just want the baby and Sophia to be healthy. That's all that matters to me." My eyes connect with Sophia, and something passes between us. My words have an impact on her, I see it in the way she visibly softens.

  "What about you, Mom?" The nurse asks as she puts the blood pressure cuff around Sophia’s arm, preparing to take her blood pressure.

  "I don't care either. I'm still trying to wrap my head around being a mother and having a tiny human depend on me. Don't get me wrong, I am excited, but I’m still trying to let it sink in. I just want a healthy, happy baby. Girls are fun but sassy. Our godchild is the sassiest five-year-old you've ever met."

  "You're right. My daughter is at the stage where she has to dress herself, and nothing matches. She'll put on a coat when it's ninety degrees outside." They laugh together, understanding something I haven't yet to experience. "Okay, let's get you finished up so Dr. Martin can come in and check on the little one."

  She spends the next few minutes checking Sophia's blood pressure, temperature, and various other things, and then she walks out, leaving us alone.

  "If it's a girl, can I still teach her hockey?"

  Sophia throws her head back with a throaty laugh, "I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Hayes. Scott made a comment that the baby will probably skate before it can walk if you have anything to do with it."

  "He's not wrong." I grin.

  "I can't wait to find out. I feel like once we know the gender, it'll be so much more real."

  "Feels pretty real now, St. James."

  She looks down at her stomach and places a manicured hand on it. Fuck, a primal part of me awakens at the sight, and it makes me crazy—crazy for a woman I can't have, even if she's my fiancé and the mother of my child.

  A knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts and my gaze from Sophia. A tall, older, balding man in a white coat walks through the door with a bright smile.

  "Sophia, how are you, dear?" He extends his hand and shakes hers before turning towards me. "Hello, I'm Dr Martin, Sophia's obstetrician. I'll be here through her entire pregnancy and birth. You must be the lucky husband?"

  "Fiancé," I correct him, shaking his extended hand.

  I look past him to Sophia whose eyes have widened. The word “fiancé” is still new to both of us, but it’s not like I’m not proud to be Sophia's fiancé, even if it is fake.

  "Well, congratulations to both of you. First time dad?" he asks me as he turns the light down and gets the machine ready to look at the baby. My heart speeds up. Holy shit, this is it.

  I nod. My throat feels tight as he pulls out a wand connected to a machine.

  "What an amazing feeling. Most first-time parents are nervous, scared, and anxious. There's no rule book when it comes to parenting, and most of the time we're all winging it. But I know you guys will do great navigating those waters together." He smiles warmly. "Usually, a sonogram technician would be here to do this, but I wanted to chat with you two personally while we see baby for the first time."

  He picks up a bottle of gel and squirts it onto the wand while Sophia pulls her shirt up, exposing her stomach. I see the soft, milky skin that I just had my hands on a few days ago. The thought rushes straight to my dick, and I push it out of my head. This is not the time to be fantasizing about Sophia.

  Get your shit together, Davis.

  Once he places the wand on her stomach, there's a steady whoosh. "And there is your little one." Dr. Martin points to the small little bean in the middle of the black circle on the screen. He adjusts buttons on the machine and zooms in, bringing the bean closer.

  "There are the little legs. Do you see?"

  Sophia covers her mouth and lets out a sob, and I rush to her side, grabbing her hand in mine and squeezing. Holy shit, this is our baby.

  "It looks like an alien," I say, brow furrowed.

  Sophia laughs, squeezing my hand before Dr. Martin smiles and moves the wand around, getting a different view.

  "Yes, at first the fetus does look like a small bean with arms and legs, but there is a heartbeat and if he or she cooperates, you might be able to see them move their little legs or tiny arms. Over the next few weeks, baby's facial features will develop more, and the toes and fingers will develop without the webbing."

  Webbing? I swallow.

  "Don't worry, Dad. It’s all a part of the developmental process. There’s actually an app you can download on your smart phone that shows what the baby will look like each week and notes all of the milestones it will hit. Very cool. I’ll write that down so you can reference it later," He smiles and looks at Sophia, "Sophia, I am going to prescribe you a new prenatal vitamin and those nausea medicines that we discussed on the phone. Hopefully, after this first trimester, some of that morning sickness will diminish."

  "Thank you, Dr. Martin. Do you know when we’ll be able to find out the gender?" Sophia asks.

  Dr. Martin continues to move the wand around, showing us different angles of the baby and I'm...I'm in awe. I can't believe that we made this tiny, little alien that somehow my heart already fucking loves. How is it possible to love something you barely know? That you’ve only ever seen once? Yet, my heart strings tug every time I see its little feet move, and pride swells in my chest all at once.

  I’m turning into a sap, and I don’t give a shit.

  "Are you crying?" Sophia whispers, her blue eyes meeting mine.

  "What? No." I wipe the lone tear that's fallen from my eyes and pretend I have something in my eye. "Just a piece of fuzz or something in my eye."

  The smile that tugs at her lips fucking blinds me. "Sure, six-foot-four, more muscles than you know what to do with, and you're crying over your baby. That's adorable, Hayes."

  “Adorable”. like I'm a teddy bear. Goddamnit. My testosterone is crying, no…fucking weeping right now.

  "Told you, it's just some fuzz," I grumble. My eyes drag back to the screen, where the doctor is taking measurements.

  "Okay, all done here guys. Everything is looking great, and baby looks to be around fourteen weeks. I'll see you for a follow up appointment sometime after eighteen weeks, an
d we can determine the sex of the little one then. Do either of you have any questions for me?"

  I’m still in shock that there’s was an actual baby inside of Sophia. But there is one question I’m dying to know the answer to.

  "Is Sophia okay to, you know…do normal activities? Yoga, running, sex..." I trail off. Fuck, I can't believe I asked him that.

  Sophia's gaze snaps to mine, and she scowls.

  What? It’s part of the reason I pulled away from her the other day. I was scared I was going to hurt the baby…you know...

  "I'm just...I'm worried I'll hurt the baby. With my dick." I mutter.

  Both Sophia and Dr. Martin burst out laughing, and then I feel even more stupid for asking.

  "It is perfectly normal to have questions regarding sex during pregnancy. But it is completely okay, there aren't any concerns. Actually, sex during pregnancy is great. It's a form of exercise, and orgasm releases oxytocin, which is great for relieving pain and stress. Not to mention, it keeps mom feeling great. During pregnancy, a lot of women experience an increase in libido and have healthy sexual appetites. So, to answer your question, sex is great during pregnancy, and you shouldn't worry."

  Thank fuck. I’ve been trying my best to keep my hands to myself, and the way that Sophia has been feeling, I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to much longer.

  "As the pregnancy comes to an end and you approach birth, sex actually can help induce labor."

  My eyes widen.

  "Not prematurely, but the body is a magical thing, and once it's time to give birth, it can help with speeding the process along."

  "Thank you, Dr. Martin. I appreciate you," Sophia tells him.

  He shakes both of our hands, gives Sophia the pictures he printed of the sonogram, and leaves.

  The second he leaves, Sophia looks at me like she's ready to bite my head off…gently, that is.