The Enemy Trap

by Maren Moore

  "I'm sorry, St. James. I've been worried about it. I had a fucking nightmare the other night, and I can't stop thinking about it."

  She uses the paper towels Dr. Martin provided to remove the rest of the clear gel from her stomach and steps down from the exam table.

  "You could've just asked me Hayes," she says softly. "Not that it'll happen anyway. I told you...we're coparenting, and coexisting. No sex involved.

  "Whatever helps you sleep at night, St. James."

  Fifteen

  Sophia

  16 Weeks

  You know that feeling when you have somewhere important to be, and you've spent all day working on your hair, makeup, and finding the perfect outfit? Then you try said outfit on, and suddenly, you hate life and decide you're not going because you look like a huge, fat cow?

  * * *

  That's me, currently.

  "I can't go." I huff, tossing yet another skin tight garment onto the bed.

  Hayes stands in the doorway, glancing from the pile of tossed aside dresses back to me. He looks ridiculously handsome and put together in his tux and matching bowtie. I, on the other hand, look like I ate everything in the house. Twice.

  "Nothing fits. Everything makes me look fat."

  I’m officially at the stage of pregnancy where things no longer fit, and my bump is becoming prominent.

  Hayes shakes his head and steps into the room, “St. James, you are hot as fuck. Don’t you talk about yourself that way.”

  His words warm my insides but do nothing to make me feel any less like a whale. There’s no way he and I are appearing for the first time as a couple, let alone speaking to anyone about our upcoming fake nuptials.

  Being Hayes’ fake fiancé is one thing, but being in the public eye comes with a tremendous amount of pressure. There’s an expectation of perfection, and if you don’t meet that expectation, they rip apart every single flaw you have. I see it every day in the gossip magazines.

  “How about this? You go, and I’ll stay here and make sure no one breaks in.” I flop onto the bed and fall back into the pile of dresses.

  I hear him laugh, and then he’s hovering over me, putting his massive, magical hands on each side of my head while he peers into my eyes.

  “How about no. You wear the last one that you tried on, and I’ll take you for the biggest piece of cheesecake I can find in Seattle.”

  Tempting.

  But, no.

  “Are you really trying to bribe me with food right now, you big oaf?! I’m complaining that nothing fits and I weigh more than you do. Food is not the answer in this situation.”

  He laughs and dips his head closer until I feel his lips against the shell of my ear, his warm breath dancing along the skin and making me shiver, “How about I make you come on my face before we go, and then you’ll be relaxed.”

  My eyes widen. I was not expecting Hayes to be a dirty talker. And also…he is getting way off subject.

  “One time offer, remember?” I push on his shoulders gently, and he kneels between my open legs.

  “Listen, your body is changing. I get it. Not all change is comfortable or welcomed. But just think: it’s changing for our baby. Our beautiful baby who will be worth it. You’re beautiful, and I happen to think your body is fucking perfect.”

  Shit, when did he turn into this guy that could make me melt with only a few words? I’m in way over my head.

  “That was sweet. Thank you,” I mutter. “It’s easy for you to say when you look like a model in gym clothes, Hayes.”

  His lips tug up into a teasing grin before he pulls me off the bed and into his arms despite my protests. “It’s an hour, St. James. You are the strongest woman I know, and I mean that. You almost took me out that one time at Scott and Holly’s.”

  “You deserved it. Still do.”

  “Get dressed and let me take you out. I want to show you off to the world, fake or not. Hottest baby mama in all of Seattle. It’s a charity event. We’ll smile for some photos, do a brief interview for the biggest magazine there, I’ll shake some hands and donate some money, and you’ll be home before you know it, eating Toaster Strudel, and watching Good Girls.”

  “Fine. But I need you to zip this one, because it’s so tight I can’t breathe.”

  “My pleasure.”

  An hour later, we’re in the backseat of a limo and Hayes is sitting next to me, smirking as we pull up to the red carpet. Red carpet at a charity event.

  Sigh.

  I’ve been pep talking myself for the past thirty minutes, trying to convince myself that I sound like a spoiled brat and need to just snap out of it. This event is for charity. Plus, if the world thought I looked too fat in Dolce, then that was their problem, not mine. I’m baking a baby.

  I place my hand over my stomach and take a deep, calming breath.

  “You ready?” he asks. I hadn’t even realized the limo had stopped moving.

  “Let’s do this.”

  He extends his hand, and I place mine in his palm. His warm, strong grip is comforting…and then I’m thrust into a world that I never thought I would experience.

  The driver opens the door, and we’re greeted by fans. People are screaming, snapping photos, and calling Hayes’ name. He puts on the same smile I’ve seen grace the pages of so many gossip magazines, and it shines. This is second nature to him. I, on the other hand, am like a fish out of water. I manage a small smile as he pulls me against his body.

  “Hayes, Hayes!” Someone with a large camera steps forward from the press section before we’ve even made it down the carpet. “Who’s the lucky lady of the night?”

  My blood turns to ice. Of course the media would think I’m just another puck bunny. It’s what Hayes Davis is famous for: his playboy ways and partying nature.

  He feels me stiffen against him as I begin to pull away, but he holds me firmly and looks down at me, shaking his head and whispering, “Don’t let it bother you, Sophia. I’m here with you. You are the most beautiful woman in this place.”

  I nod.

  Turning towards the reporter, he smiles and guides me over to where the man stands. “Hi. This is my fiancé, Sophia St. James.”

  The reporter's eyebrows shoot all the way up to his hairline in surprise, “Wow, you’ve been holding out. How is life being engaged? Tell us everything.”

  “We recently gave an exclusive interview. Other than that, we prefer to keep our private lives private,” Hayes says firmly.

  The reporter nods, “Can I get a photo of the two of you?”

  “Sure.”

  Hayes pulls me to him and gazes down at me just as the camera flashes. We smile, and he snaps another then scampers off to the next limo.

  “Jesus, that was intense.” I breathe, thankful that he’s gone.

  “The media is…overwhelming in general. You have to be stern and not let them think that they control your life. That’s something I learned from Kyle. C’mon, let’s get inside and grab a seat.”

  “One hour.”

  “One hour.”

  As we continue down the carpet, a woman and her date appear beside us. I’m so engrossed in not actually falling over and busting my ass in front of everyone that I don’t even hear her approach.

  She looks like a model: long, dark hair, piercing blue eyes,high cheekbones, and a sharp jaw. The kind of looks ordinary, boring girls like me would kill for.

  “Hayes, is that you?” Her voice is velvet. How a voice can sound like sex, I have no idea, but I immediately feel like a fish out of water.

  “Brielle, how are you?” Hayes gives her a kind smile, and she leans forward to place air kisses on each side of his face.

  Well, great. Now I might have to fight her on the red carpet.

  I can’t help the feeling of jealousy that passes through me, making my skin hot and my grip on Hayes’ arm tighten.

  “This is my fiancé, Sophia. Sophia, this is Brielle. She’s a model for…” He trails off, obviously having forgotten which
company, and she laughs—a sound as fake and plastic as I’ve ever heard.

  “So funny, Hayes. We actually did a shoot together for Dolce that time. You remember, yes?”

  He nods, the smile on his lips faltering slightly. His demeanor has changed. Now he stands back, closer to me, and squeezes my hand in reassurance.

  Hayes is not interested in this beautiful woman, not even a little bit, and my heart sings.

  Any ounce of jealousy that I felt evaporates and is replaced by a feeling of…contentment.

  “Nice to see you, Brielle. Have a great night.” Hayes smiles again.

  And then, in front of everyone, he dips his head down and places the smallest, most gentle kiss I’ve ever had on my lips, not once caring that the entire world is probably watching at this moment. Or that all of the Toaster Strudel I’ve been eating has gone straight to my ass. Not even when the cameras flash or a cat call comes from the crowd as he kisses me breathless. He doesn’t give one shit that Brielle Big Lips is watching, or that the look on her face is absolutely rancid.

  If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Hayes Davis just staked his claim for the world to see.

  “Thank you so much for being here tonight, Hayes, and thank you so much for being his date, Sophia. You look lovely.” The foundation's chairman thanks us both before he leaves to speak with the other people in the crowd.

  Now that our first event as a couple is over, I feel like I may have overreacted just a tiny bit. Everyone has been nothing but kind and welcoming, and I feel a tiny bit guilty for the way I acted at the house.

  “Hayes, I’m sorry for how I acted about coming here. It was rude, and I apologize.”

  He looks at me with a furrowed brow, “You were upset Sophia. Never apologize for how you feel.”

  I’m not ready to admit it out loud, but the majority of my guilt stems from the way that I’ve treated Hayes for the majority of our adult lives. Even though we both said and did things that were…well, childish and immature, I have been awful to him. Now that I’ve gotten to know him, I see he’s nothing like I imagined. If anything, he’s better than anyone actually believes him to be. The gossip magazines paint the party playboy without a care in the world, but truthfully, he’s kind and caring. He volunteers with youth, donates to sick children, and visits his mama every chance that he gets. Those are the things that the media should focus on, but you never see them printed. You only see the times he’s caught in a situation that’s more salacious.

  “You’re nothing like I thought,” I whisper.

  He says nothing for so long that I think he may not have heard me. But, it’s just us in the confined space of the backseat of this limo. If I reach out, my hand would brush his on the cool leather next to my own.

  Finally, he says, “You never gave me the chance. I’m not perfect Sophia. I fuck up more often than not. I make mistakes, just like everyone else. I’m guilty of a lot of things, including spending time with women I had no business with. I’m a guy. Not that it excuses it, but I just want you to know that, even though nothing about our engagement is real, and I know you still have these reservations about who I am, I am committed. I won’t embarrass you by pursuing anyone else, and I would never disrespect you in any way.”

  My heart tugs at his words, and I feel the tears well up in my eyes. Stupid hormones.

  “I appreciate you saying that. I hope that we can be friends—forget everything from the past and only move forward. Not just for the baby, but for us?” I ask.

  “Like you could get rid of me.” He smiles, taking my hand and lacing his fingers with my own. The gesture is simple and not something I expected from him.

  I can’t help the overload of feelings inside me that threaten to burst from the seams at any given moment. I’m…confused—confused about the things I shouldn’t, and can’t, be feeling for Hayes.

  The last thing I need to do is accidentally fall for my fake husband to be. No matter how charming and ridiculously hot he is.

  Sixteen

  Hayes

  18 Weeks

  Two weeks pass in what seems like the blink of an eye. Together, Sophia and I have formed a friendship. One that I didn't expect but never want to give up. That's the selfish asshole in me.

  But, if I have it my way, I’m never giving either of them up.

  We fall into a comfortable routine: She washes the dishes, and I put them away. I buy her Toaster Strudel, and she folds my underwear. It’s a strange kind of symbiosis, but it works for us.

  "Hayes!" I hear Sophia scream from the other side of the house, jostling me and making me almost drop the fifty-pound weight I’m lifting on the bench.

  I quickly put the bar back on the rack and fly from the bench, making it to the other side of the house in record time. I find Sophia lying on the couch, board straight, staring at the ceiling.

  "Are you okay? What's wrong? Is it the baby?" I pant, skidding to a stop by her side.

  "No, I'm fine. Everything's fine. Sorry." She grins and, even though she scared the fuck out of me, I want more of the smile she’s gracing me with right now.

  "You scared me to death, I thought something was wrong."

  "I'm fine...but I think I felt the baby move!"

  My eyebrows raise, "Really? Like, on the outside?"

  For the past two weeks she's been feeling the baby move at random times, and each time she’s more shocked than the time before. I can’t wait to feel.

  "Yeah, like just a small movement but I definitely felt it."

  I drop to my knees beside her, staring at her belly intently, as if my stare will cause my rookie to show herself.

  Rookie.

  That's what I nicknamed her when we decided we were both tired of calling her "the baby." We still didn't know the gender, but Sophia is convinced it's a girl.

  So, we call her Rookie, and it fits.

  "Rookie, you in there?" I tap on Sophia's stomach gently. She shakes with a giggle, but there’s otherwise still no movement that I can see. I place my ear against her stomach, trying to get a laugh from Sophia. "Listen, I don't know how well you can hear me in there, but I really need you to show up and show out tonight, okay? Daddy's dying to see you."

  When I'm done speaking into Sophia’s stomach—knowing that Rookie can hear me but won't reply for another five-ish months or so—my gaze connects with Sophia’s, and there's a wide, happy smile on her face. Fuck, I put that there.

  Sophia's beautiful without a smile, but with one...she's breathtaking. Perfection if there ever was any.

  "Oh, you're smooth."

  I shrug, "Just doing my daddy duty."

  We sit together in silence for a moment, with me still gazing at her stomach intently, and just as I'm about to get up and grab a drink from the fridge, I see the smallest movement.

  "Was that it? Sophia, I saw it!" I yell.

  Laughing, she nods.

  "Fuck yes, I am the baby whisperer." I place my hand on her stomach again and put my lips just above the waistband of Sophia’s shorts. "Thanks, Rook. I knew you were going to be Daddy's girl."

  Sophia hisses when my lips dance across her sensitive skin, and her eyes have turned stormy. It’s the same look she gives me each and every time she denies herself. See, living in such close quarters, I know just how much pent-up sexual frustration she holds. And each and every time I can, I chip away at her resolve, breaking her down until I can finally have her fall apart in my hands. With zero reservations and no regrets.

  She clears her throat before sitting up, and adjusts the tank top strap that has fallen off her shoulder.

  "Tomorrow's the day. Are you nervous again?"

  A teasing smile forms on her lips, and I want to kiss it right the fuck off.

  "Truth or a lie?"

  "Truth, always."

  I shrug, "Sort of. I get this weird, sweaty, panicky feeling the second I step over the threshold there. I don't know why. I guess...I don't know. I just have some irrational fears that I'm working through."r />
  "You've never mentioned that," she says, her eyes wide.

  "I know. It's not something I like to talk about. I'm a man. The fearless one."

  She takes my hand and pulls me off my knees and onto the couch next to her. "Hayes, just because I'm the pregnant one, doesn't mean that you can't have any worries or fears. She's your baby too."

  I nod. "I have this fear that something is going to happen to her. To you. To both of you. And being at the doctor, as irrational as it is, seems to make it worse. I've been having these nightmares, almost every night since you got here. They're fucking terrible. We're driving over a bridge, and somehow I hit a patch of ice, overcorrect and we go over the side."

  I swallow thickly, pushing the fear in my throat down, "It's my fault. I’m paying more attention to some story that you’re telling than to the road, and then I hit the ice and we go into the water. Fuck, it's so cold I can't even move. I get my seat belt unstuck, but I work on yours until my fingers are raw, and I can't get it. No matter how hard I pull, no matter what I try. I can't get you loose. The look on your face is enough to fucking kill me, St. James."

  She turns to face me and pulls me into a hug, clutching me tightly against her body. She's so soft, so fucking perfect in my hold, that I don't want to let her go.

  "Nothing is going to happen to me or the baby, Hayes," she says softly, pulling back and placing her hand against my cheek. "It's perfectly normal to have these fears. I read somewhere that lots of first-time parents are plagued with nightmares and worries of messing something up or something happening, but I truly believe that everything's going to be okay. Rookie is lucky to have you for a dad."

  These powerful, deep moments with Sophia are few and far between, but when they happen, they take root in my heart and grow. Every fucking day, I'm falling farther and farther in love with a woman I can't have.

  "Sorry to bring that up, I shouldn't have even told you."