by Bailey B
“She’s pregnant.” Josh runs his fingers through his hair.
I suck in a breath and it catches. I can’t let it go. Can’t feel anything over my heart beating against my chest. “She’s what?”
“It’s not mine!” Josh insists, closing the space between us and reaching for me. I let him take my hands because he looks like he might break if I don’t. “We slept together twice and I used a condom both times. Plus, she was on the pill.”
I pull my hands back and wrap them around myself. I feel dirty, even though I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m no fool, I know Josh has been with other people, but that doesn’t mean I want to hear about it. I must make a face because Josh runs his hands through his hair, then turns and kicks the trashcan bolted to the wall.
“Fuck!”
He backs against the stall and slides down it to the floor. This must be what Hattie was talking about, the things he’s got going on. I chew my bottom lip and watch Josh drop his head onto his arms. I can’t imagine what he must be going through, having someone claim a baby is yours. A baby that you’re ninety-nine percent sure isn’t, but then there’s that one percent haunting you. I sit down beside him and lean my shoulder against his.
“I wanted to make a good impression tonight.” Josh lifts his head and drops it against the wall behind him.
“You were batting a thousand at dinner.”
“And now?” Josh’s sad eyes look at me.
I don’t know. The whole maybe-baby situation complicates everything. Logically, I know I should jump ship and get as far away from Josh and his drama as possible, but my heart and my head are out of sync. A part of me wants to see where this goes, and I’m having a hard time ignoring it.
The bathroom door swings open, and Hattie hollers, “I hate to interrupt, but we are getting a line out here.”
Josh sighs and pulls himself onto his feet. He holds out a hand for me and says, “Let’s go home.”
It’s been a long night, and sleep seems unreachable. I’m antsy. My mind keeps straying, assaulting me with the same question, over and over: How could I have let tonight go so wrong?
Layla lays on the couch, her head in my lap. Things between us haven’t been the same since Cowboy’s. Tension lingers in the air, and I don’t know how to ease it.
I run my fingers through Layla’s hair while she picks a movie on Netflix. The strands are soft and smell like summer and strawberries. She moans and her head nuzzles against my crotch. Every cell in my body wants to react to the closeness. Restraining human nature, keeping myself from becoming even the slightest bit hard, is practically impossible. But I’m trying.
“So,” Layla says, turning in my lap to look at me. “I found my favorite movie, but you’re probably going to hate it.”
Mamma Mia waits on the screen. I recognize it as one Hattie made me watch a few months ago and stifle a groan. I hate musicals, but I’d give anything to see Layla smile again. So I nod.
The corners of her lips lift, and she turns back on her side. Her hand shifts under her head, unintentionally rubbing me over my jeans. I bite my lip and exhale a heavy breath. I can do this.
About twenty minutes into the movie Layla’s breathing slows and her eyes close. I watch her sleep until the credits roll, trying to figure out how I can fix things between us. I like this girl, more than I should, and I don’t want to fuck this up anymore than I have. “Layla?”
“Mmm?” she mumbles, eyes still closed.
“Are you sleeping?” I wait for her response. When she doesn’t answer, I add, “Just so you know, I have the world’s largest dick.”
“Mmm,” she mumbles again.
I smirk, feeling safe to say what’s on my mind. “I won’t tell you when you’re awake, not yet, but I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve never met anyone who makes me feel things like you do. I get these stupid flutters, and sometimes it’s like I can’t breathe when you're around. I don’t know what you’ve done to me.”
When Netflix returns to the menu screen, I have to accept the inevitable—it’s time to put her in bed. Layla’s head falls upon my shoulder as I carry her down the hall to my room. She’s light, but that doesn’t stop me from worrying. Given the bad luck streak I’m on tonight, I’m liable to trip over my own feet and drop her. I don’t, thank fuck, and use the hand under her legs to pull the comforter back, then lay her down.
Strands of hair splay across Layla’s face when her head finds the pillow. I tuck them behind her ear, my fingers trailing across the soft skin of her cheek. She’s beautiful. It kills me that I haven’t made her mine yet.
As I’m closing the door behind me, she says, “Where are you going?”
I step back into the room and lean against the dresser. “I tried not to wake you.”
Layla sits upright, eyes half open and bunches her brows together. I smirk because the just-woke-up-look isn’t something I ever see on girls, but I’d kill to see it on her again.
“I’m heading to the couch,” I clarify.
“Are you sure?” Layla scoots to the side, her gaze darting to the mattress then back up to me. “Pretty sure you could fit an army on this mattress.”
I chuckle and amble across the room. Tiny tremors attack my muscles. I’m shaking. I just hope she can’t see it. “That’s a California King.”
“It’s big.” She chews on her lip and stares at me. I grip the footboard of my bed and lean onto it. Layla crosses her legs under the blanket, and pulls the corner of the comforter back. “I’m not offering sex, but if you want to sleep beside me, I don’t mind.”
I nod and pull my shirt over my head. Layla’s eyes widen as she takes me in. It’s been a few months since we went to the beach. Taking care of the ranch full time has added muscles in places the gym never came close to touching. I smirk, relishing in her reaction, then step out of my jeans.
I slip under the covers, but don’t hug the edge of the bed. I take a spot, near the center, closer to Layla but not so close that I’m pressuring her into anything. She rolls onto her side, adjusting herself so we’re touching. I bite my tongue until I taste blood, trying to distract my brain from her ass being pressed against my dick with a surge of pain.
It works until Layla turns towards me.
I look down into her eyes and she presses her mouth against mine. I part her lips with my tongue and put my arm over her waist, pulling her closer. Her fingers tug at the tiny curls at the base of my neck and I groan into her mouth, unable to fight myself any longer.
Layla pushes my shoulder and rolls me onto my back, climbing onto my lap. Her eyes go wide and she jumps off of me after feeling the hardness through my boxers. “I said no sex.”
I chuckle and set my hands on her hips. “You’re the one on top of me, gorgeous.”
“Right.” She turns her back to me and scoots to the far end of the bed. “Goodnight.”
I adjust myself in boxers, then tuck my hand behind my head. I probably shouldn’t have let that kiss get so intense, but what can I say? I’m a guy, and I enjoyed it. I close my eyes and feel my heartbeat pulse through my body. Tonight wasn’t a total loss. Tomorrow will be even better. “Goodnight, beautiful.”
My head is killing me. The curtains are drawn, blinds closed, but it’s still too damn bright. There’s a reason I haven’t drank in over a year, and this pounding in my head is it. I cover my face with a pillow and squeeze my eyes shut.
Last night was a clusterfuck of epic proportions. I drank too much, had my mouth assaulted by Sam’s tongue, and had the bomb of all bombs dropped. Then, as if I wasn’t confused enough, drunk-Layla decided to climb on top of Josh and then freak out the moment his giant thing touched me. Through clothes! I’m pathetic.
I peek from underneath my pillow and notice Josh is gone. My chest tightens, fearful he decided to up and leave without saying goodbye, but then I remember he said he gets up early to feed the horses. I push the panic aside, and convince myself that there will be no walk of almost-shame this morning.
Josh will be back, we will say a proper goodbye, and that will be that. I frown, surprised at the wave of sadness that comes over me. As bad as last night was, I don’t want to leave. I sit up, feeling the room move around me, and put my palm to my head.
After taking a minute to steady myself, I crawl out of the bed and walk into the hallway. “Hello? Josh?”
He doesn’t answer. I step into the open living room/dining room/kitchen area and walk to the fridge. There’s a bottle of cold water inside. I grab it and guzzle half of it in one breath. It helps, but my head still hurts. I peek through the window, looking out at more untouched grass than I’ve seen in my life. There’s no movement, or anything to indicate Josh is around. I step to the front door and smile when I open it and see his truck. He’s still here.
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and head back toward my room. I dig through my purse and find two Tylenol in the emergency stash I keep there. After swallowing them down, I step back into the main part of the house. Josh is still nowhere to be found.
I explore the house, searching for a bathroom and find it two doors down. There’s a fresh set of towels on a rack above the toilet. I poke my head out the door one more time and figure, What the hell?
I stand under the shower’s spray until the water loses its warmth. I hate a cold shower, so I get out and wrap myself in a towel. Standing in front of the sink, I wipe my hand across the mirror. My eyes are still puffy from crying last night, but at least my headache is gone. I run my fingers through my hair, then twist my locks into a braid. Satisfied with what I see, I decide it’s time to get dressed and either head home or find Josh.
“Morning!” he shouts from one end of the hallway when I walk out of the bathroom in a towel.
I jump, the thin terry cloth slipping out of my hand and falling to my feet. “Eek!” I bend down to re-cover myself but the damage has been done. Josh has seen me naked, and I’ve got three day stubble growing on my vag. Shoot me now.
“I have breakfast.” He smirks. His eyes trail down to my toes for a quick once-over and I feel my cheeks turn red.
“I’ll… uh… I’ll be ready in a minute.” I scurry into Josh’s bedroom and shut the door behind me. I fall onto the bed and cover my face with my arm. I thought about shaving before I left my house yesterday, but reasoned that I wasn’t getting naked, so it didn’t matter. Had I known I’d be going commando this trip, I would have suffered through a day of razor burn to avoid the embarrassment.
Josh knocks at the door. I sit up, adjusting the towel around me and notice a huge wet spot on the sheets from my hair. I must have been laying here longer than I realized.
I open the door and smile. “What’s up?”
“Everything okay here?”
“Yeah.” Shit! How long was I staring at the ceiling for? “I laid on the bed for a minute and lost track of time.” He smirks and my cheeks flush again. These are the feelings that I don’t know what to do with—this fluttering, heart-pumping, kind of want to puke sensation that takes over my thoughts and makes it hard to function.
“Have you ever been in a Gator?”
The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand. Josh doesn’t seem like the crazy redneck type. You know, the Joe Exotic kind of people that harbor illegal animals and find joy in feeding them food they’re not meant to have. I.E—me. “Please tell me you’re not talking about the animal.”
Josh sits in the driver’s seat of an oversized four-wheeler. I’ve been on a four-wheeler, once and hated every minute of it. Colson wanted to go to a Mud Festival back when I was sixteen. Mom and Dad were gone most weekends, so they never would have known we drove the four hours with his buddies if I hadn’t broken my wrist. Not the best experience, not to mention it was dirty. I’m not a prissy girl, but washing a pound of mud out of my hair with a cast on my dominant hand wasn’t easy.
Josh holds an unopened bottle of orange juice out to me. I shake my head and struggle to look away from the beads of sweat dripping down his neck. Normally, I’d say guys who sweat are gross, but Josh pulls the look off. It probably helps that I know he got this way trying to do something nice for me. At least, I hope this ride will be nice.
“You ready?” he asks. I buckle myself in and nod.
Josh grins, then puts the side-by-side in gear. The engine is loud, almost like a motorcycle, but the music blaring through the speakers drowns it out. Josh turns around the back side of his house and floors it, slinging up dirt behind him before peeling down a bumpy path. I grab the oh-shit-handle above my head and hold on like my life depends on it.
“You good?” Josh yells over the music. I try to nod but he hits a hole that sends me up off of my seat. If not for the seat belt, I would have bounced right out of this damn thing.
“Sorry.” He slows to half speed. I relax in my seat a little and try to enjoy the ride.“I’m excited to take you to the back forty. The only person who’s been out there with me is Sam.”
“It’s cool.” I clear my throat and reach for the bottle of orange juice Josh tucked into a cup holder. I break the seal and take a sip. “Now that I don’t have to worry about dying, this is kind of nice.”
Josh puts his arm over the back of the seat. I unbuckle and scoot closer. My nerves eat at me with each second I’m not strapped in. I trust Josh, but it would take nothing to lose control.
He must sense my hesitation because he grips my hip and chuckles. “I can run these roads with my eyes closed.”
“Roads?” I look around, at the vast span of untouched land that seems to go on for forever. “Where?”
“There.” Josh points to a path of pushed down grass that’s old enough to notice but new enough that had he not shown it to me, I would have missed it all together.
He hits a bump and I reach for his hand. I don’t mean to, but holding onto something makes me feel safer. “Where I come from, roads are made of asphalt, and sometimes dirt. But never grass.”
“You’re living in the wrong part of the world. This… it’s a little piece of heaven.”
I smack my arm, killing a mosquito and spreading the blood it tried to steal on my arm. “Your heaven is full of vampires.”
Josh smirks and uses the long sleeve of his shirt to wipe my arm. “Can you blame them for wanting to take a bite out of you?” His grin stretches wider. “Hang on to me.”
Josh swerves into a puddle and sprays muddy water all over the windshield. He sees another puddle, this one the size of a tiny pool and dives off into it. It’s maybe a foot deep, but at the speed we’re going, there’s enough water to splash up the sides of the Gator and sling mud everywhere.
Josh veers to the left, taking us down a dirt path and into the treeline. I huddle closer, a shiver slithering through me as the sun hides behind a veil of lush leaves. Josh holds me tight, taking his gaze off the road for a split second to kiss my temple.
I close my eyes, actually enjoying the ride. In a few hours, I have to go back to Orlando and to my life. But for now I can pretend nothing exists but this moment. The sun comes out from behind the trees and I open my eyes again.
Josh stops the Gator at the shoreline of a large pond. He pulls his arm back without saying anything and walks toward the water.
“What are we doing?”
Josh tugs his shirt over his head and for a moment I’m lost. He is fucking gorgeous. When he drops his pants, I gulp.
Josh turns, walking backwards into the water and says, “Swimming.”
Wading waist deep into the water, I get down on my knees and extend my arms. The coolness is heavenly against my hot skin. I dip my head back, letting the water wash over my face. I wanted to take Layla horseback riding, but Maybelle hasn’t been acting right the past few days and Winston is too green to put her on. I wanted to trail ride along the fence line. Letting her see the cows could have been romantic, but this is nice too.
Our pond is big, stocked with bass that have been breeding since I was a boy. Paw and I used to com
e out here, just him and I, once a month and fish. He said it was important to carve out time for just the two of us and that the water has a way of grounding you. No matter how rough life gets, we’ve got it better than these fish. The only thing outside of this water for them is death. Me, I’ve got the world at my feet, or so Paw said.
I sit up again and wipe my hand over my face. Layla’s peeling her shirt over her head. A second later she’s sliding her shorts down her hips. She walks to the bank with one arm over her stomach and tucks her hair behind her ears with the other hand.
“What are you doing?” I ask, unable to fathom why she would be insecure. The woman is gorgeous, and the crazy part is she doesn’t even realize it. She’s got legs for days and a body that most girls would kill for.
“Nothing.” Layla’s hands fall to her sides. I can tell she’s uncomfortable, but she is trying to hide it, clenching tighter, then looser, then tighter. If I didn’t see that I’d never know.
I creep closer to the shore, keeping the water at my shoulders, anticipating her next move, while failing miserably to slow my racing heartbeat. Layla walks to the edge and sticks out her right foot, dipping her toes into the water.
“Oh, snap! It’s cold!” she yells, backtracking to the side-by-side.
I leap up, the water’s only knee deep now, and run towards her. Layla sticks her arms out, shaking her hands at me as she walks backward a little faster. “No. No. No!”
She turns on her heels, breaking into a sprint as I reach the water’s edge. I reach her in a matter of seconds and wrap my arms around her waist while she screams and laughs all at once. I turn us towards the lake and set her on her feet.
Layla spins in my arms and tries to run again. Her efforts are futile. I bend down and grab her by the thighs, throwing her over my shoulders.
“Josh, no!” Layla flails her legs and beats her fists against my back as I trek back into the lake.
