[2016] First Comes Love

by Emily Goodwin

  “You let me know if he puts one toe out of line,” my brother whispers. “He’s my best friend and all, but I know him, and I know he’s not, uh, ready for something like this.”

  “I will, and thanks. I’m beginning to see what you’ve been saying for years though. He’s not that bad of a guy.”

  “Underneath it all, he’s not.” Colin lets out a breath. “I’m still pissed at him, and you—there’s a rule against hooking up with your brother’s friends, you know. But having my best friend be the father of my niece or nephew is kinda cool.”

  “I’m so glad you are the level-headed one,” I say with a smile. I consider telling him I’m sorry for upsetting Jenny, even though I didn’t mean to, but decide against it. He doesn’t know I know, and I don’t want to risk upsetting him even more. He’s taking this better than I thought he would at the moment. “And really, he’s trying. He said he wants to be involved, and I believe him. For now. Go easy on him. He won’t admit it, but he’s worried you’ll hate him. It’s not just his fault this happened.”

  Colin’s nose wrinkles in disgust. “I don’t want to think about it. Noah has told me stories, and nope. Can’t do it. Can’t go there.” He holds his hands in front of him, blocking me from sight.

  I laugh. “I’ll spare you the details then.”

  “Are you okay?” he asks. “This definitely isn’t on your list.”

  “I’m coming to terms,” I say honestly. “It’s a lot to process. Having Noah with me is helping a lot.”

  Colin nods. “Just let me know if I need to put him in his place.”

  “I will. So far so good … though we haven’t even gone on our first date yet.”

  “First date?” Colin shakes his head. “This is so messed up.”

  I sigh and put my hand over my stomach. “You’re telling me.”

  I stand in front of the bathroom mirror, smoothing my dress over my stomach. I’m a little bloated, but I don’t look pregnant yet. My hair is up in hot rollers, and I’ve done up my makeup. Eyes lined in black, dark shadow on my eyelids, and red lipstick. I rarely put this much effort into my appearance, and I almost regret that I did tonight.

  Because this first date isn’t going to lead to anything.

  And yet I want to look good.

  Why? It’s not because Noah Wilson looks like a fucking bearded Norse god or anything. Nope, that’s not way at all.

  I take out the curlers, finger-brush my hair, then spray it with hairspray. I can use hairspray, right? It’s not toxic to the baby or anything? I put away my hair and makeup supplies then go into my bedroom to Google hairspray and pregnancy. I’m ready to go, and Noah isn’t supposed to be here for fifteen more minutes.

  I’m surprised when the doorbell rings five minutes later. The dogs run, barking again, and I close the computer (yes, hairspray is fine) and grab my shoes.

  “Lauren,” Noah says, deep voice rumbling as he says my name. Dammit knees. Why are you getting weak? “You look … beautiful.”

  “You sound surprised,” I say and give him a quick up and down with my eyes.

  “Not surprised,” he says. “But I rarely see you like this.”

  “You rarely see me at all,” I say with a smile. “And thanks. You look good too.” He does. In dark jeans and a light-gray button-up shirt, he looks effortlessly put together. His dark hair is styled in a way that makes it look like he woke up like that, which is as sexy as it is unfair.

  Nobody wants to see me when I just woke up. I look like a creature from the black lagoon, not a model from a Calvin Klein shoot. Damn him.

  “Should we get going?” I ask, turning to grab my purse and my coat. “You made reservations, right?”

  “Yeah. You only reminded me to a dozen times.”

  “Sorry,” I say with a shrug. “It just doesn’t make sense not to, ya know?”

  “I guess.” He extends his hand for me to take.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Zazzios.”

  “Really?”

  “You sound surprised.”

  “That’s a pretty fancy place.” Fancy, and expensive. It opened last year and got very popular after some reality TV star was seen dining there with her boyfriend.

  “I don’t do first dates often,” he starts and holds out his hand for me to take. “But when I do, I do them right.”

  I just smile, not sure how I should feel that my perspective on things has already changed. I love getting dressed up and going somewhere fancy—it doesn’t happen that often—and this is an ideal first date. But it feels … weird.

  This date isn’t going to end with sexy time and the hope for a second date. I already know Noah and I will be getting together again for pretty much the rest of our lives. The nature of those meetings is still to be determined, but it takes the fun out of this dating thing.

  Noah pays for valet parking, takes my coat, and pulls out my chair when we get to the table. He’s playing the part of the perfect gentleman perfectly, and I worry that’s all he’s doing.

  Playing.

  Not taking this seriously. I look across the table at him, and find it hard not to feel like I’m back in high school, longingly staring across the hall at my brother’s best friend, wishing he would take notice in me … and then realizing that if Noah and I ever did hook up, I don’t know who would murder me first: my parents or Colin.

  I don’t know much about Noah, and that needs to change. He might not be the trouble-making bad boy he used to be. Fuck, I hope not. If he is, there is no way this can work between us.

  “Would you like to start the evening off with a glass of wine?” the waiter asks as he hands us our menus.

  Noah orders two glasses, then realizes what he did right after the waiter walks away. “Fuck, I forgot.”

  “It’s okay. You can have it.” I look over the menu. There aren’t even prices listed out. Wow.

  The waiter brings us the wine, along with bread and salad. My mouth waters at the sight of lettuce and tomatoes. At least I have healthy cravings, right?

  “So,” I start after I order some sort of fancy pasta. I’m not entirely sure what all went into it (why are fancy dishes so confusing?), but it has cheese and noodles and a cool name. Plus it probably cost more than what I make per hour, so it should be good. “Do you still work at the Roadhouse Bar?”

  Noah laughs. “You don’t know?”

  “No, I don’t. I told you, Noah, I don’t know you anymore.”

  “You will soon enough,” he says, eyes meeting mine. Damn you, Noah. Only you are able to make ordinary words in an ordinary sentence borderline orgasmic.

  “So, what do you do?”

  “I’m a photographer.”

  “Really?” I might have leaned back with surprise. “Like a real one?”

  He laughs again. “As opposed to what, a fake one?”

  “Or one that takes pictures of naked women in their basement and calls them models.”

  “I don’t have a basement,” he says. “I live in an apartment in the city. And yeah, I’ll call myself a real one. I did get a degree in art.”

  I knew he and Colin went to the same college. My brother got a degree in marketing, and I kind of assumed Noah just floated along, posing as a TA to get in girls’ pants. And now I’m starting to feel guilty for assuming anything about him.

  “Why photography?”

  He shrugs. “Being honest … I had to pick a major. Photography seemed easy and was a good excuse to take those basement photos you were referring to, which led to hookups in college. Then I got my first photography job and realized I could make a decent living doing something that had no set hours. Plus I’m good at it, I guess. Win for me.”

  “What kind of photos do you take?”

  “Whatever I get hired to do, really. I worked for a magazine for a while before starting my own business. I can show you sometime.”

  “So do you have a studio?”

  “I do. On Washington street.”

  I
know exactly where that is. It’s the historic district of this town, located near the heart of the business center. It’s a busy place, ideal for any sort of shop or store, and rent isn’t cheap on that street. He must do pretty well.

  “And you work at…?”

  “Banfield Animal Hospital. I’m a vet tech.”

  “You like it?”

  “Oh, I love it. It’s what always wanted to do.”

  “I remember. It was one of the first things you ever told me,” he says then looks almost embarrassed. “In Mrs. Jefferson’s office.”

  I have to think back for a second. “Oh right. You were in trouble or something. Why?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t even remember.”

  Curls fall over my shoulder when I shake my head. “I never would have thought we’d be here, in this situation.”

  “Yeah … things have gone off course of what I expected too.” He reaches across the table, fingertips touching mine. “It doesn’t mean it’s bad, though.”

  He locks eyes with me, holding steady as if looking away would be the death of him. My heart flutters and suddenly I’m looking at a whole new Noah, one that holds a promise of a future.

  Maybe this can work after all.

  “So,” I say and pull my hand back, afraid of how intense my feelings are becoming. “If this was a normal first date, what would we do after dinner?”

  “I’d take you back to my apartment and we’d have sex.”

  “You’re very certain about that.”

  He gives me that smartass smirk I remember from years back. “I am. It’s almost a shame you don’t remember anything from that night.”

  “Almost. So, then what? You part ways and that’s that?”

  “Yes, I wasn’t interested in dating anyone. But that was then.”

  I smile back. That was then.

  And this is now.

  Chapter 10

  NOAH

  I LOOK AT Lauren, who fell asleep while we were watching Harry Potter after our first date, and feel something I haven’t felt in a long time. Is that my heart swelling … with happiness? The movie ends and Lauren is still sleeping. Carefully, I move away and make sure she’s comfortable, covering her with a blanket. Should I leave? I don’t want to, as odd as that is.

  The recliner chair is good enough for the night. I turn the TV off , sit, and close my eyes, not falling deep asleep but dozing off. Around midnight, Lauren wakes up.

  “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” she says groggily. Her eyes meet mine and I can’t help but smile.

  “It’s okay. I can only assume you’re tired. You’re growing a person and all.”

  “Yeah, no big deal, just creating life.” She sits up. “You didn’t have to stay.”

  “I didn’t want to leave you,” I blurt. “I can’t lock the door behind me. That’s not safe.”

  “Oh, right. Thanks. Do you want to stay the night?”

  Stay the night? With her? Hells yes. “I thought you said no sex.”

  “I did, and I didn’t mean it that way. It’s late, and you’re here…” She looks into my eyes again.

  “Then yeah.”

  She leads the way to her bedroom. “I have an extra toothbrush. I’ll set it out for you.”

  “Thanks,” I tell her and get ready for bed, stripping down to just my boxers. Lauren is in bed when I come into her room. Her eyes widen as she looks at me, eyes slowly trailing over my body. Then she closes her eyes and looks away. Trying to resist temptation, is she?

  I won’t tempt her—because really I’d be tempting myself. She’s tired and needs extra rest, right? Shit.

  Before I know it, I’m in bed with Lauren Winters. Again. Though, this time nothing is going to happen. My leg touches Lauren’s as I try to get comfortable. Her skin is soft and warm and instantly turns me on. I want to feel more of it, to run my hand up that smooth calf, past her thigh and—stop. Dealing with an erection while next to Lauren in bed isn’t something I want to do right now. With a huff, I roll over, moving as far away from Lauren as I can without falling off the bed.

  Lauren stretches her arm, fingers brushing my bicep. I tense. There is no way I can sleep like this when all I can think about is parting Lauren’s legs and diving in between.

  “Can you, uh, move over?” I ask.

  “It’s okay if you touch me,” she says. “But not like that,” she adds before I can make a pass. There is no middle ground. If I’m touching Lauren, it’s leading to something. I bring my arms close to my body, figuring I’ll just stay like that until I fall asleep. Lauren laughs. “You’ve never just literally slept in bed with someone before, have you?”

  “Nope,” I tell her. “I’ve never stayed the night with someone like this either. Especially someone I’m attracted to. This is weird.”

  Lauren laughs again and moves her pillow, scooting closer to me. “Here,” she says and rests her head on my chest. I swallow hard, feeling something rise inside me, something other than desire.

  “I don’t like to cuddle,” I say out loud. “But this is nice.” It feels right. Holding Lauren like this, innocently, softly, brings me a sense of content I never thought I’d feel. “Your no-sex rules includes blowjobs, doesn’t it?” I ask, joking. Though I wouldn’t turn one down.

  “Sorry to disappoint, but yeah, those are out.”

  “That’s what I thought. Just checking.” My eyes close and I rest my head against hers. “Have you told anyone else?”

  “No. I want to wait until the first trimester is over. Which is only about a month away now.”

  “Fuck, that sounds scary. I thought we had more time to figure this parent shit out.”

  She chuckles. “I don’t know if I ever will.”

  “You’ll be a good mom.”

  “I hope so.”

  She doesn’t return it with a “you’ll be a good dad.” Because she doesn’t know. I want to be angry with her, but I share her doubt.

  “There’s a lot I don’t know,” she says.

  “I don’t think anyone is fully ready. We’ll get it. Together.”

  She holds me tighter. “Together. I like that.”

  Oh, Lauren … if only you knew how much I’ve wanted to be together, what I would have given to make you mine.

  My arms are still around Lauren when I wake up. Her dogs have joined us in bed, and we’re all crammed together like one big happy family. I’m uncomfortable, and the arm Lauren is laying on is all pins and needles, but I don’t dare move.

  I kind of love this.

  “Morning,” I say to Lauren when she opens her eyes. Her hair is a mess and there are pillow crease along her cheek. I reach over and brush her hair out of her face.

  “Morning,” she says back and runs her hand up my arm. “This is a different kind of waking up together.”

  “Very different. Is that bad?”

  She smiles. “Not at all.”

  I kiss her forehead. “Good.”

  We stay wrapped up together for a few more minutes, then Lauren gets up to use the bathroom. After, she lets the dogs out and offers to make breakfast. I go into the kitchen with her, and together we make pancakes and eggs.

  “This is new to you too, isn’t it?” she asks when we sit at the table.

  “Eating breakfast with someone? Yeah, it is. But it’s nice. I would say I should have done this years ago, but I probably wouldn’t have had it with you.”

  She smiles and a bit of color rushes to her cheeks. “Are you busy today?”

  I shake my head. “I usually go to the gym with Colin in the morning on the weekend, but I’ve been avoiding him.”

  “He won’t stay mad at you forever.”

  “We’ll see. Are you busy the rest of today?”

  “No.”

  “Do you want to do something together?”

  Her smile returns. “I would like that. Any ideas?”

  “I don’t care as long as it’s with you.”

  “This counts as our second date, right?�
� I ask Lauren. We dropped her dogs off at the dog park—doggie day care is a real thing and Lauren utilizes it all the time—and stopped for lunch at a small diner. “It should, and then I’ll only have to take you out one more time until I get some.”

  Lauren laughs, grabbing a French fry. “I change it to three formal dates then.”

  “What, this isn’t fancy enough for you? Come on, I’ll take you to Taco Bell tonight. Bam. Three dates done and over with and we can make another baby.”

  She laughs again and shakes her head. “That’s not funny. And don’t tempt me, Noah.”

  I wiggle my eyebrows. “So you’re thinking about it.”

  “I’m thinking about tacos, not it.”

  “Liar.”

  She purses her lips. “Fine. I might be thinking about it, but only because of hormones.”

  I lean back and run my hands over my chest. “You want this.”

  “Stop it!” she laughs and looks around. “People can see you!”

  “Right, right. I don’t want to tempt those old ladies over there.”

  “Hey, I hear they give pretty good blowjobs when they take out their dentures.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “Gross.”

  She reaches for her lemonade, laughing. I like this, the laid-back time together, talking and laughing and just being ourselves. I don’t have to put on a show for Lauren. I’m just me. I’ve never been this comfortable around anyone.

  The rest of the day is just as easy going, and we spend the evening watching movies. Halfway through the second Harry Potter movie—and, yes, these movies are fucking awesome—Lauren rests her head on my shoulder. I wrap my arms around her and pull her close, stretching out on the couch so that we are both laying down.

  “You can lay on your stomach, right?” I ask, suddenly worried she’s going to hurt our baby.

  Fuck, that sounds weird. Our baby.

  “Yeah. I can for a while. And the baby is like the size of a grape right now. Very small.”

  “Oh, good. When can you feel it move?”

  “From what I read, about halfway through.”

  “It’s like a little alien inside you.”