She pulled a face. “No need to be so graphic.”
“No! I didn’t mean…” They both burst out laughing and it was the first time they’d ever laughed like that. Full and together and, for just a moment, free.
“I just mean that I could run from the beginning of a relationship in order to keep it from materializing. But this baby is coming no matter what I do. All I can really do is surrender to the reality of it, you know?” He paused again and Naomi let him have all the silence he needed. Hearing him explain this, though it made her sad, was utterly priceless to her. Every word was a hard-won nugget of gold. If they were going to have a kid together, she needed to understand Sequence. He needed to understand himself.
He sighed and flattened his palms against the comforter, the tips of his fingers a scant inch from the hill her knee made under the blanket. “I used to run because I thought it made everything better if I wasn’t around. But running will just make things worse for you and the baby. So, I’m staying. I don’t know how the hell to do any of this. Like, none of it. But… step one is staying. So, I’m staying.”
“You’re staying,” she repeated dimly. As if his words had been spoken in an accent she could only partially understand.
“I’m staying.”
This time, she was the one who was quiet for a long time. “You don’t have to figure out your level of involvement tonight. I mean, there’s no rush. And I was planning on doing it by myself anyways.”
“You won’t be doing this on your own.” He took a deep breath and started the sentence over, as if he wanted to be more specific than he’d been. “You won’t be raising our kid on your own.”
Naomi cleared her throat. “Let’s just wait and see how everything goes, okay? We don’t need to make any promises tonight.”
A stubborn expression crossed his face, as if he really wanted to make promises tonight. Naomi got the feeling that if he could have snapped his fingers and materialized paperwork for their custody arrangement, he might have done it. But she truly believed that he needed time to let this all sink in. He was kind of freaking her out with his reaction. It was the opposite of what she’d expected and she could only imagine that once he got used to the new information his outlook was going to be different.
He might be saying one thing tonight and then tomorrow they’d wake up to find a Sequence-shaped hole in the wall of the bunker. Gone like roadrunner. Meep meep.
“Can I stay tonight?” he asked gruffly.
“In my room?” she asked with surprise. Her eyes narrowed as his eyes momentarily dipped below her face. She looked down to see that her robe was gaping open a little bit. The shadow of her cleavage beckoned. When she looked back up, his eyes were firmly on her face again, but the damage was done. A new thought occurred to her.
Was this whole act because he was just trying to get a little ass? She dismissed the thought as being way too despicable. He was a complicated person, but he wasn’t a terrible person. But still, maybe there was a little truth to it? Maybe he really did want to stick around and support her and the baby. And maybe he didn’t see anything wrong with letting her wet his whistle at the same time?
God. Well. He had another thing coming if he thought that she was going to be jumping back into bed with him anytime soon. She was sweet for him and soft for him and she’d probably always have these feeling brewing inside of her. But she wasn’t going back there. To that arms-open-anything-you-want crush she’d had for him. No way.
She would let him into her life and the baby’s life as much as was healthy for the three of them. But she was not opening her heart to Sequence again. She couldn’t afford to. She had a baby to think of now. She couldn’t go messing around with guys with such serious commitment issues they couldn’t even eat a meal with a woman whom they’d just slept with.
He was still waiting for her answer, his eyes riveted on her face. She knew she had to nip this in the bud immediately.
“Sequence, we’re not going to be sleeping together.”
He was quiet, those green eyes trained on her. “All right.”
Her gaze dropped to the tattoos on the backs of his hands. She wanted to trace their path up the backs of his fingers. But she resisted touching him. She was going to have to get used to resisting the urge to touch him. Might as well start now. Finally, she met his eyes again. She needed him to understand. “Just to be clear, what I mean is that we’re not going to be together. Even if we end up raising this baby together. We can be a team. But…”
“You don’t trust me.”
The bright in his eyes hurt her. But not as much as how still he’d gone. He was Statue Sequence again. Nothing moved except for the pulse in his throat.
This time she didn’t resist the need to touch him. She took his large, rough, tattooed hand in between hers. For a moment it was a dead weight until he flipped it palm up and gripped her. She spoke quietly. “The baby will need stability. Friendships can last a lifetime and relationships usually don’t.”
He opened his mouth, like he was about to argue, so she cut him off at the pass, needing to say this last part.
“Sequence, it was hard enough on me when you left when our relationship was an hour old. I can’t imagine how hard it would be for me if I got used to having you around. If we built something together. I have the baby to think about. If I go through heartbreak, so does the baby. It’s too risky. We’ll just be friends.”
He was still and quiet, heartbreakingly so. Then, finally, “All right.”
Naomi, hand shaking just slightly, finished her tea and set the cup aside. He gently placed the yogurt back in her hand and she begrudgingly started back in on it, the sounds of her spoon the only noise in their quiet room.
Sequence leaned across her and grabbed her laptop. Naomi froze. God, that smell. She’d forgotten his smell. Clean sheets and sun-warmed copper. She wanted to turn that scent into a thick blanket and roll herself up like a burrito.
He clicked on the movie she’d been watching and set it up between them while she ate her yogurt.
“You can’t possibly want to watch this again. You just watched it last week! Plus, it’s a crappy chick-flick.”
He shrugged, his eyes on the screen. “Pretty sure this falls under self-care for you, right?”
She considered it. “Sure.”
“Which, for me, makes this Naomi-care.”
Ugh. He was killing her. That was the sweetest thing ever. She wasn’t a tragic person, but she hadn’t had someone truly take care of her since her father had died. Her mother was loving, in her own way, but she’d never been able to do much more than take care of herself. Naomi had a strange, trembly feeling in her chest that she tried to ignore. She said nothing, just finished up the yogurt.
When she was done and the movie was halfway over, Sequence paused it. “Ready for bed?”
“I think so,” she said, lazing on the pillows.
“You brush your teeth and stuff and I’ll bring this food back downstairs.” He stood and held the tray, his eyes cast down until they shot up and pinned her in place again. “Please let me stay the night.”
The line between her brows appeared. What the heck? Was he totally ignoring everything she’d just said?
He took a deep breath. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”
She sat up, her confusion all over her. “You want to sleep on the floor?”
He chuckled. “No. But I don’t want to leave. I want to be near you and the baby.” He paused and stared down at the tray in his hands as if he were searching for the words. “I feel like everything will get messed up if I leave right now. I don’t want to… break the bubble just yet.”
“Oh.” Naomi bit her lip. She kind of loved that. It was confusing, but also unbelievably cute. “You wanna have a sleepover?”
He smirked in a friendly way and tipped his head back to look at the ceiling. “Something like that.”
“Okay,” she agreed. “We can do that.”
He nodded an
d left the room to take care of the tray. Naomi brushed her teeth again and raided the closet for more linens. She really didn’t want to share her pillows because these days, she was needing all of them to get comfortable. But if he was going to sleep on the floor, he needed at least one.
She made him a floor-bed and then rearranged her remaining pillows so that she’d be comfortable. She also quickly changed out of her robe and into a pair of yoga pants and a tank top. The tank was old and frayed and pulled tight across her belly. The yoga pants had permanent paint stains from where she’d painted her apartment last. Whatever, it wasn’t like she needed to impress Sequence. She refused to wear silk pajamas for him just because she didn’t want him to think she was a schlub. The silk was way too hot to sleep in.
The long exhalation of breath behind her was the only indication she got that he was back. She hadn’t even heard the door open. She turned and Sequence immediately removed his eyes from her ass. His gaze landed on her belly and then skipped away, toward the floor bed. She couldn’t help but feel the smallest twinge of satisfaction that he still found her attractive. Not that it was a good idea for them to be lusting after each other. But if she was going to actively resisting her attraction to him for the rest of her life, she kind of wanted him to be doing the same.
“Thanks,” he told her, nodding his head toward the floor-bed. He stood back and watched as she snuggled under her covers, punching at all the pillows she’d carefully arranged around her. “What’s with all the pillows?”
“Oh.” She blushed. “I guess it’s a pregnant thing. It takes a lot to get comfortable at night.”
“Got it.”
She glanced at him, trying to keep her eyes to herself but unable to ignore his masculine presence in her small room. She realized that while he’d been gone he’d changed out of his slacks and button down into sweats and a t-shirt. He left the sweats on but shucked off the shirt before he laid down over top of the floor bed, apparently not bothering with the blankets.
Naomi attempted to unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth to say something, but her mouth had gone completely dry. She’d figured that she’d embellished Sequence’s body in her memories of it. No one could be that muscular. No one actually had the perfect ratio of skin to chest hair. No one had tattoos that gorgeous and artful.
But sure enough, there he lay, looking so beautiful that Naomi had to turn her face into her pillow for a moment. She wanted to roll off the bed and straight into his arms. And what was worse, Naomi was certain that he’d open those arms right up. Naomi was one hundred percent sure that he’d let her do anything she wanted tonight. If she wanted to open her mouth against his, he’d open his right back. If she wanted to tuck her hands into the waistband of his sweatpants and just hold on while they rolled and kissed and moaned, he sure as hell would let her.
But he wouldn’t have let her before he found out about the baby, she reminded herself. Before he found out about the baby, Sequence had distanced himself irrevocably. He didn’t want a relationship with any woman, let alone Naomi. Sequence was lying on her floor because they were having a baby together, not because he wanted to be with her. And that made all the difference. She was not going to succumb to the fact that it would be really convenient for them to start hooking up. This baby deserved more than that. This baby deserved two parents who got along, whose relationship worked.
Someday, she’d find someone who wanted her because she was everything he wanted. She’d find her match who wanted to be with her regardless of the circumstances, not because of them.
It would have been so lovely if Sequence had been that person. But she’d have to settle for him being her baby’s father. And that would just have to be good enough.
“Goodnight,” she told him, clicking off the light.
“Goodnight, Fancy.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Sequence woke with the first light and immediately covered his face with both hands. He breathed into the dark space he created for himself. He had no confusion. No disorientation. He knew exactly where he was. He knew exactly what was going on.
He just didn’t know what the hell was happening in his gut.
Naomi slept in the bed above him. Naomi and his baby. His family.
Sequence’s fingers tightened where they gripped his scalp and he breathed against his palms. Holy shit. His family. He’d created a family with this woman. For as long as he could remember, the only family he’d ever been willing to claim had been Atlas. And there was something about having an identical twin that made the word family seem inadequate. They were two complete individuals, but Sequence was realizing that he’d considered Atlas to be some kind of extension of self more than anything.
And in that way, he’d never really considered himself to have a family. But now he had one. In five months, he was going to have a son or a daughter. And he was going to have Naomi.
Forever.
It was as freeing as it was terrifying. He’d done everything he could to avoid being tied to a woman for life. But now that it had happened, he found there was no reason to struggle against the bonds that lashed him to her. He’d meant what he’d said last night. The only thing there was to do was accept it. Surrender. The only choice he had was to show up. And as terrifying as it was, he understood what he had to do.
His future, always amorphous, had just suddenly begun to take shape. It was actually kind of comforting.
Father.
The word suddenly, sharply, speared through him and Sequence found himself without air in his lungs.
He was going to be a father.
The word was almost as foreign as the concept. Sequence’s own father had been the most abusive and fucked up person in Sequence’s life.
And now he was about to attempt to do the whole catwalk himself, his only guidance being his shitty, traumatic memories of what not to do.
Don’t beat the shit out your kid simply for existing. Check.
Don’t shoot up drugs in the living room. Check.
Don’t make your kid wish they were dead. Check.
This fatherhood thing was going to be a breeze. He felt nauseated. He couldn’t think about fatherhood right now. It would send him running for the hills.
His own words came tumbling back to him. Step one: Staying.
All he had to do right now was stay. He could manage that. Fatherhood was a whole other can of worms and he’d pop it some other day.
Today was about taking care of Naomi. Today was about pregnancy. He didn’t have to be a good father in order to take care of Naomi.
He let out a long slow breath and stared at the gray dawn light as it crept over the ceiling. He let his mind replay all the events of last night.
She’d looked so unbelievably pretty, tucked up into bed, her robe falling open. She was rounded and sleepy and warm and smiley. Her colors burned like jewels. He’d wanted to snuggle into her. He’d wanted to press his face between her breasts and just breathe. He’d wanted to lay his cheek against her belly. And yeah, he’d really, really wanted to put his mouth between her legs. To press himself into her heat and desire. There was no getting around the fact that he wanted her.
He almost laughed to himself. Not seven hours ago he’d stood outside her door and asked the universe for another chance with this woman. He’d been given the biggest chance of them all, the opportunity to be her child-raising partner for the rest of his life. But still, he couldn’t have her. Not the way he truly wanted to have her.
Because she didn’t trust him. With good reason. God, he was such a dumbass.
Sequence could feel a difference from the version of himself that had hightailed it away from Naomi all those months ago. But how could he explain it to her? How could he make her see that he was changing?
If he hadn’t left her that night, they might still be exploring the possibilities between them. Instead, he’d firmly put himself into the never category. He’d seen it in her eyes last night. She wanted him physically. Bu
t she was not letting herself go there.
“Whatcha thinking about?”
Sequence looked over and couldn’t help but chuckle at her eyes peeking over the edge of the mattress. She looked curious and cute and apprehensive and nervous and sleepy and happy and scared all at once.
Jesus, he wanted her.
In all honesty, he’d been thinking about just how much scarier Naomi’s never was than her forever. He’d have thought that he’d feel claustrophobic over being tied to someone forever, but he was much more uncomfortable with idea of never being allowed to be with her.
“You,” he eventually answered.
Her eyes changed in a hundred different ways. It was suddenly clear to him that she was just as confused as he was. There was the assumption that the mother of the baby would have the answers. But they were just two people who’d been plunked into this situation and were now trying to figure out what the hell to do about it.
She cleared her throat. “Wanna see something cool?”
He nodded and watched as she reached into her bedside drawer. Please let her bring out a vibrator. Please let her let me use it on her. But, of course, she did no such thing. Instead, she handed down a glossy piece of paper.
Sequence realized what was in his hand and sat up so fast he made himself dizzy. He was holding a sonogram. Of his baby. He was holding a fucking photograph of his child.
His breath whooshed out all at once as he reached up and fumbled with the bedside lamp, unwilling to take his eyes away from the image. Naomi knocked his hand away and turned it on herself.
Sequence just stared and stared. He felt like this image was a gallon of water that he was pouring into some dry and empty cavern within him he’d never realized was there.
Family.
He was looking at his family right now.
He could feel Naomi watching him. Waiting for him to respond. He said the first thing that came to mind. “Damn, this baby’s got forehead.”
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