Knocked Up By The Doc Box Set (A Secret Baby Romance)

by Claire Adams

  Now it was Parker’s turn to look confused. “Hold up—you two know each other?”

  I refrained from saying that yes, we knew each other, and not just in the Biblical sense. I didn’t say anything, because I wanted Chloe to answer.

  She held her arm out. “He gave me this tattoo,” she said.

  Parker barely even glanced at it. “Oh. Yeah, Graham here’s a man of many talents.”

  There was a strange tension building in my chest. I’d never considered myself a jealous person, but I wanted nothing more than to demand to know what the hell she was doing here with Parker, of all people. Was this some sort of joke?

  But I wasn’t going to let either of them see me rattled like that. I could keep a cool exterior regardless of how I was feeling on the inside, and that was exactly what I intended to do right now.

  “Right. Well, see you guys,” I said, and I pedaled off before either could say anything else.

  *****

  I wanted to completely eradicate every single thing I was feeling; fortunately, a bike race was a great place to do exactly that. I didn’t want to be like Kurt and end up doing something stupid. I also couldn’t really remember ever feeling like this, maybe because none of the other girls I’d been with in the past I’d liked this much. I’d certainly never entertained the idea of being in a real relationship with any of them—not the way I had with Chloe.

  But I kept seeing her, standing there with Parker, and there was a part of me that knew they looked right together. There was some part of me that actually understood that shit my mother had been saying to me. Yeah, I’m sure Chloe’s parents would much rather see her with a guy like him than me.

  I couldn’t focus. Every time I tried to, I kept thinking about her with him. I pedaled harder, faster, but the thoughts were overpowering and refused to be ignored.

  And I didn’t want to feel like this.

  I kept pushing it harder and harder, going into corners too fast, not using the brakes when I should, passing people in really precarious areas. I didn’t run anyone off the trail, but I came close a few times. I also wiped out in the rock garden, bailed a few times over some roots, and mistimed my approach when bunny-hopping a big log most people dismounted to get over. I didn’t care, because the pain felt good and was at least a distraction from my thoughts.

  And despite all these falls, I somehow ended up finishing the race first.

  *****

  After the race, I felt battered and sore, and I sure as hell would be hurting tomorrow when I woke up. Not just fatigued muscles, but bruises, scrapes, and a couple lacerations that had dripped blood down my calves and into my socks. I didn’t care. I threw my bike into the bed of the truck instead of putting it on the rack. I was about to get in when I saw Chloe.

  “Hey,” she said, her voice nervous. “Are you okay?”

  My throat felt like it had closed up. “Yeah,” I finally managed to say. “Tough course out there today.”

  “You’re bleeding.”

  “It looks worse than it actually is.”

  “Oh.”

  We both stood there, not saying anything. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here today.”

  “I know,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting to see you either. I didn’t know you did these things.”

  “This is the second time I’ve come across you out with another guy.”

  She opened her mouth to say something but then stopped, a confused expression on her face. “Huh? Second time?”

  “I saw you at a restaurant with some other guy,” I said, not caring that I was bringing it up now. “I didn’t mention it because I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

  “I ... I don’t even know who you’re talking about. A guy? When? Where?”

  “I don’t know,” I snapped. “And it really doesn’t even matter. Except that I’m now running into you again, with another guy! Who I happen to know, and who I think is a total douchebag.”

  “I didn’t do anything with him,” she said. “It’s not like that.”

  She had that hurt expression on her face, the same one the first night I met her when I told her I wasn’t going to give her a tattoo. The thing was, I believed her. But I could also still hear my mother’s voice, insisting how different people like Parker and Chloe, and my father, were from us.

  “It’s fine if you do,” I said. “Feel free. Enjoy.”

  I didn’t wait for her to respond; I just got in the truck and drove away.

  *****

  I took a detour on the way home and just ended up driving, the road unfurling in front of me in a straight line. By the time I’d finally made it back onto the Cape, I’d decided I’d just break it off with Chloe. Whatever “it” was. I pulled my phone out of the glove box. I wasn’t going to text or call her now; I would let her know in person. I kept one eye on the road and the other on my phone as I scrolled through the names, looking for Francesca.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chloe

  Graham took off before I had the chance to say what I really wanted to. I’d spent the entire duration of the race trying to think of just what the right thing to say would be, because I knew some sort of explanation was in order. Even though nothing had happened between me and Parker, and wasn’t going to.

  But I knew the second I saw him by his truck that he wasn’t going to be interested in hearing whatever it was I had to say.

  When Parker came over to me, I was still just standing there in the same spot, looking in the direction that Graham’s truck had gone even though it had long disappeared.

  “Hey,” Parker said. He’d changed out of his bike clothes and had a polo shirt and a pair of shorts on, but he looked worn out, his hair still slick with sweat, mud spatters dotting his cheeks. “So, how is it you know Graham?”

  I turned away and forced a smile. “You know,” I said, “I don’t actually. I don’t really know him at all.”

  *****

  It seemed as though no one could wait to hear how my outing with Parker had been; on the drive back from the race, my mother kept texting me, asking how it was going, and then Tara got in on the text action, saying that if I got back in time, we should go out to dinner, but not to worry if I was going to be out all night ....

  “I’m normally way more energetic after a race,” Parker said, “and I usually like to go swimming or out to eat or whatever, but I am wiped.” He gave me an apologetic smile. “So, you mind if I just drop you off back at your place?”

  “That’s totally fine,” I said. He smothered another yawn. “Maybe you should go take a nap. I know if I had to do a race like that, I’d probably sleep for a week. Well, I doubt I’d actually even be able to finish.”

  “You get used to it,” he said. Neither of us had said anything about Graham coming in first. Graham himself didn’t look like he even gave a shit, and he left before the they’d handed out the medals, so the highest step on the podium had been empty. “Although, I’m feeling much less used to it than normal. I swear—I know it probably just sounds like a bunch of lame excuses—but I really am usually feeling so much better after a race.”

  My mother was sitting out front in one of the Adirondack chairs, with a glass of iced tea and a book. I was sure to Parker it looked like a completely normal scenario, but she had moved that chair from the backyard to the front, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her sitting outside with a book.

  “Oh!” she said, putting the book down and waving.

  “Don’t feel like you have to stay and mingle,” I said.

  He was already getting out of the car. “I can at least get out and say hello.”

  “How was it? Did you have fun? Look at the two of you!” My mother sounded like she was about to burst with excitement.

  “Well, it was a rather poor showing on my part,” Parker said. “It certainly wasn’t my best race.”

  “That’s okay!” my mother exclaimed. “Why, I’m so impressed that you’re even out there to
begin with! Now, how many miles was it?”

  “Thirty-two.”

  “Now, that is just super human!” She widened her eyes and looked at me. “Could you imagine that, Chloe? Riding a bike for 32 miles? And not just 32 miles, but 32 miles over rough terrain, am I right? It’s not on pavement, now, is it?”

  “You’re exactly right,” Parker said, and my mother beamed. I smiled wanly.

  “Anyway, Mom, Parker was just saying how tired he is, so he’s going to head home,” I said.

  “Oh, really? Would you like to come in first? Have some lemonade?”

  “Mom, we’ve been driving for a while and he’s had a long day.” Ew, she was like, totally enamored with him.

  “Next time,” Parker said. “Chloe’s right; I just want to get home and take a shower and maybe a nap.”

  “Okay, then. I’ll just give you two a minute. Nice to see you Parker, looking forward to seeing you again!”

  She hurried off, not back to her chair though, but inside, leaving the two of us standing there.

  “Errr, sorry about all that,” I said.

  “What, your mom?” He shrugged. “She seems nice. Anyway. Thanks for keeping me company today, I had a good time.”

  He started to turn for the car door, but then hesitated. He came over to me and we both just stood there.

  “Well,” I said. “Thanks for—”

  He leaned down and kissed me, just a peck, not like a real kiss, but I turned my head at the last second and he ended up kissing the side of my face, but not my cheek, but lower, almost my jaw.

  I felt my face starting to get hot, but he seemed completely unbothered. “I’ll see ya around,” he said. And then he got in his car and drove away.

  *****

  The last thing I wanted was to be interrogated by my mother about what our day had been like, so I texted Tara back and said I could meet up with her. She said she was melting in this heat and wanted an iced latte, so we agreed to meet down at the local coffee shop, Staccato.

  We sat at one of the outside tables, under the umbrella, sipping our iced lattes.

  “Spill,” Tara said. “All the details. Tell me.”

  I grimaced. “It’s not as awesome as you think. I think I really messed up.”

  She looked at me curiously. “Uh-oh. What happened?”

  “What happened is we ended up seeing Graham. At the bike race. I had no idea that I’d run into him there. I mean, what are the chances?”

  “What was he doing at the bike race?”

  “He was in it! He was doing the race. I had no idea.”

  “So how’d that go?”

  “He wasn’t psyched.”

  “You had no way of knowing he’d be there; it’s not your fault. You weren’t doing anything wrong.” Tara shrugged. “Am I missing something here? What is the problem? I mean, it’s not like he walked in on you guys doing it, did he?”

  “No, nothing has happened between us!” I yelped. “I agreed to go to the county fair, because he came to my house and asked me and my mother was right there and if I said no, I’d never hear the end of it from her. We had fun, but it wasn’t like this great romance between us or anything. And then he asked me about the bike race and it just seemed like something else fun to do, and I just agreed without really thinking about it.”

  “Because you did nothing wrong. You just need to talk to Graham. If he’s bothered seeing you with someone else, that means he actually likes you.”

  “Or does that mean he’s really possessive and controlling?”

  Tara frowned, thinking. “Controlling is not good, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being a little possessive.”

  “I guess I just don’t know the rules for all of this. I mean, do I assume we’re going out because we slept together?”

  “Oh, hell no! No, you do not. The whole relationship topic is actually a conversation you have to have, whether or not you guys are boyfriend/girlfriend or just casual, or what. I mean, assuming is all well and good until one person assumes one thing and the other person assumes the exact opposite. Just look at me and Michael! I assumed that everything was fine between us and he was probably thinking about that other girl! If he had actually grown a pair and talked to me about this before just going out and sticking his dick in the first pretty thing that caught his eye, then we might have been able to salvage our relationship. I think you just need to talk to Graham. Just be a mature adult.”

  “The other thing this made me realize was that Graham and I don’t even really know each other that well. If we did, I would’ve known that racing bikes was an interest of his. But I had no clue.”

  “I’m hearing a lot more about Graham than I am about Parker. How’d it go with him? Did he wear Spandex? God, he must’ve looked good.”

  “He tried to kiss me when he dropped me off.”

  “Oh my God! Tried? What happened?”

  “Well, no, I guess he did kiss me, but I turned my head and he ended up kissing me here.” I gestured to the lower part of my face. “It was actually kind of awkward. Except he didn’t seem that bothered by it. Is he just one of those people that is completely unbothered by that sort of thing? Like, he’s that confident? I’d be mortified if I tried to kiss someone and they turned their head at the last second. But he didn’t seem phased.”

  Tara pursed her lips around the straw of the latte and nodded. “Yeah, I could totally see someone like him being like that. Which is kind of an awesome way to be, if you think about it. I totally hear what you’re saying—I’d be freaking out and obsessing over it for days too, if I tried to kiss someone and they turned away like that—but maybe it’s better that he’s just, you know, not freaking out over it.”

  “It doesn’t really matter.”

  “Well, what matters,” she said, “is why you turned your head. Um, hello? When someone like Parker goes to kiss you, you don’t turn your head.”

  “But I wasn’t hanging out with him because I wanted us to kiss.”

  “Why were you hanging out with him then?”

  “Honestly? To get my mother off my case. I figured if we hung out a couple of times, I could tell her that I’d done it and it wasn’t going to work out and she should just leave me alone about it because she clearly sucks at matchmaking.”

  Tara smiled. “I think it’s kind of cute that she’s being so proactive about it.”

  “You’re giving her way too much credit; she’s not being proactive, she’s being a pain in the ass. Anyway. I mean, yeah, I admit that there was a little part of me that was kind of in disbelief that I was even hanging out with Parker to begin with, but you know what? He’s just a guy. Yeah, he’s better-looking than a lot of guys, but he’s just, you know, a person. And we had fun, but I like Graham. I would’ve rather gone to the race with Graham than with Parker.”

  Tara sighed. “If only I had your problem,” she said. “Trying to decide which gorgeous guy to spend my time with. Well, Chloe, it sounds like you just need to go talk to Graham, then.”

  “I know, you’re right.” And she was. But I wanted to think of exactly what I would say first, because I wanted him to understand that this whole situation was not at all what he probably thought it was.

  *****

  I’d have this talk with him in person, I decided, but I texted to see if there was a time he wanted to meet up. A whole day, and then another, went by without a response. I sent him a second text.

  Wasn’t sure if you got my first message, but I’d like to see you. When is a good time to meet up? Or should I just ambush you at the shop again?

  I hesitated and then added a smiley face before I pressed send, not wanting that last part to come across as a threat.

  Still no response.

  I tried not to feel annoyed. And then that annoyance turned into anxiety. I texted once more, no words this time, just a question mark.

  Still, nothing.

  From Graham, anyway. Parker had texted the day after the race and asked if I
wanted to take his dad’s boat out and hang out on Pleasant Bay. He said he was feeling much better and felt that he needed to make up for the other day and show me a good time. And boating on Pleasant Bay actually sounded like fun, but I told him I was pretty busy working on my sculpture project for the next few days.

  No worries, he wrote back, almost immediately. I’ll be in touch!

  I sighed, wishing that it was Graham who was so prompt in responding and eager to hang out, not Parker.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Graham

  Is this a booty call?

  That was what Francesca texted back to me when I asked her if she wanted to come by the shop.

  Because if I remember correctly, my next appointment with u isn’t scheduled until next week.

  I couldn’t think of anything witty to reply. I just wanted to have the kind of sex that didn’t involve a lot of talking or verbal foreplay.

  Something like that, I wrote back.

  I might be able to oblige u. Am actually in ur ‘hood. Be by soon.

  I almost didn’t respond, but then typed a quick: OK.

  I was at work. I was at work and there was always the possibility that a customer could walk in, though it was mid-afternoon and that was generally our slowest time. Even so, I didn’t actually give a shit. Besides, I was the boss here, so I could—within reason—do whatever I wanted. And right now, this was what I wanted to do.

  A few minutes later, I heard the door open. I looked up, fully expecting it to be Francesca. It wasn’t though—it was Chloe.

  She’d been texting me ever since the race and I hadn’t gotten back to her. Not because I was trying to play immature games or anything, but because I knew she’d want to talk, and try to explain this whole thing with Parker, and then I’d probably have to end up telling her that this summer was supposed to be about shit being drama-free and that just wasn’t happening so far.

  “Hi,” she said, walking over to the counter. “I ... I was texting you but I hadn’t heard anything back. So I’m stopping by. Because I need to talk to you about something, and I wanted to do it in person.”