by Cassia Leo
“Tristan and Chris should be done unloading everything in an hour. Want to grab a bite to eat on the way there? You must be hungry after all that packing.”
I want to tell her it’s not fair that I get to have a baby just as she and Chris have lost theirs, but I don’t want to slow any progress she’s made since she received the news on Sunday. The open adoption they had their hearts set on is not going to happen. They will never have a chance to know the daughter Claire gave up for adoption in April unless, by some merciful twist of fate, the adoptive parents change their minds or their daughter decides to track them down when she turns eighteen. I can’t even imagine what it must feel like to lose a child whose body you’ve snuggled in your arms, whose name you’ve whispered in your sleep.
“How about we just lie here and talk about boys? For old time’s sake.”
She lies down next to me and I hook my arm in hers as we stare at the ceiling and talk about everything we’ve been too busy to talk about for the past few weeks. She gives me all the gritty details about the first night she spent with Chris a couple of weeks ago and I tell her about the brief, yet satisfying, conversation I had with Eddie a few days ago where I told him to “Delete my number from your phone and try to slam your tiny cock in a heavy door.” When the conversation runs thin, we head over to Tristan’s house in Cary – my home in Cary.
Chris and Claire don’t hang around because she has too much studying to do, and I don’t know why Chris thinks this is so funny, so we say our goodbyes out on the curved driveway then I head back into the house. I find Tristan upstairs, ripping the tape off my moving boxes.
“Are you going to unpack my things, too?” I ask as I take a seat on the low platform bed in this guest room. Tristan’s house has five bedrooms and eight bathrooms. That’s just ridiculous.
He glances at me over his shoulder as I lie back and his gaze slides over me, pausing a bit too long at my chest. “Which box has the stuff from your goodie drawer?”
I laugh and the sly grin on his face makes my heart stutter. “There’ll be none of that,” I say, grabbing a fluffy white pillow and hugging it to hide my chest. “I need to unpack and study. Get out of here.”
“Don’t you want to shower?”
For a moment, I can’t breathe as I imagine Tristan naked and dripping wet. I shake my head to loosen the image then I stand from the bed. “Actually, yes, I’d love to take a shower.” I grab my make-up case and my handbag where I stuffed a plastic bag containing all my toiletries. “I know where the bathroom is.”
He grabs the back of my T-shirt before I can leave the bedroom. “You can use the shower in the master bath. It’s much bigger.”
I wriggle away from him and step aside so he can lead me to the master bedroom. My pulse is pounding in every part of my body as I follow him down the hallway and into a bedroom so huge I’m certain I could fit six dorm rooms in here. He leads me past the modern furnishings and I discreetly glance inside his walk-in closet. It’s a little messy, but there’s definitely enough room in there for my clothes.
Stop it, Senia!
“Why are you grinning?” he asks me as we enter the master bathroom.
“No reason. Just excited to get clean and get some studying done.”
He shows me how to turn on the shower and he stays until he’s certain the water is the right temperature. “The handheld shower-head has a pulse-mode,” he says with a wink.
As soon as I’m cleaned up and changed into something that doesn’t smell like the inside of our ancient closet in the dorm, I make my way downstairs with my book bag and my cell phone. I pull my laptop out of the bag and sit back on the sofa in the living room to get some work done. I don’t know where Tristan is, but I don’t have time to care.
My phone rings as I’m opening my laptop and I’m not at all surprised to see it’s Tristan. “What?”
“Want to play hide-and-seek?”
“Very funny.”
“I’m serious. I’ll let you hide first. The refrigerator is home base. I’ll count to thirty.”
He hangs up and I roll my eyes as I try to think of a good reason to play hide-and-seek with Tristan that has nothing to do with sex. Finally, I close my laptop and set it down on the coffee table.
I don’t know my way around this huge house very well yet, but I guess a game of hide-and-seek should help with that. I have no idea where Tristan is, so I set off toward the kitchen. I’m thinking I should try to hide somewhere downstairs – somewhere far away from the bedrooms. I open a glass door that looks like it leads to a cellar, when suddenly I hear the sound of a door opening. I scurry inside and close the door softly behind me.
Dashing down the steps, I reach the bottom and find a warmly lit wine cellar with a few barrels in the corner. I crouch down behind one of the barrels and realize, not only is my heart pounding with the anticipation of being discovered, I’m grinning like a crazy person. The sound of footsteps on the wooden stairs has me frozen. I cover my mouth to muffle the sound of my frantic breathing.
“Are you hiding in my cellar?” Tristan’s smooth voice sends a chill over my skin.
I try to make myself even smaller, but it’s hard to do that when you’re almost six-feet-tall without heels. His footsteps are getting closer. He lets out a soft chuckle and I’m certain he’s found me, but many years of playing hide-and-seek with my sisters taught me that you never come out of your hiding place until someone taps your shoulder. Never assume you’ve been caught.
I wait another thirty seconds, my eyes squeezed tightly shut, until the sound of footsteps traveling up the staircase surprises me. Opening my eyes, I slowly lean my head to the side to peek around the barrel. He’s gone.
I want to laugh triumphantly, but I have to make my dash for the refrigerator as quickly and quietly as possible. I creep up the stairs slowly, being careful not to step on any creaky stairs. At the top of the stairs, I peek in all directions beyond the glass door and see no movement. I burst through the door and just as I’m about to make a mad dash for the refrigerator, Tristan grabs me around the waist and I let out a wild scream.
“Got ya!” he says through his laughter as I attempt to push him away.
“That’s not fair!” I squeal. “You’re supposed to tag me if you find me. You’re not supposed to ambush me!”
“I couldn’t resist. You really thought you’d picked a good hiding place.”
I sigh as I take a few steps away from him. “Your turn to hide.”
He smiles at the sound of the challenge in my words. “You’re never going to find me.”
“We’ll see about that.”
“Close your eyes,” he says and I reluctantly do as he says. I can’t see anything, but I can feel the warmth of his breath on the side of my face. “Don’t forget to count to thirty.”
When thirty seconds is up, I open my eyes and head straight for the stairs. Something tells me I’m going to find Tristan naked in the shower – or maybe that’s just wishful thinking. I search the master bedroom and bath and the entire second floor, but I come up with nothing. I search downstairs, even searching the cellar in case he decided to be cute, but he’s nowhere. I head for the backyard and search behind the outdoor sofas, inside the pool supply closet. I even peer up inside the outdoor fireplace to see if I’ll find Tristan propped up in there, covered in soot and looking sexy as ever. No such luck.
I walk past the pool, peering into the depths in case he’s hiding under water. Then I realize I know where he is. I open the door to the steam room and Tristan is lying on the wooden bench with his eyes closed and his shirt off.
“You think you’re so clever.”
He smiles as he opens his eyes. “Oh, sorry. It was so cozy in here, I didn’t hear you come in. Sure you don’t want to join me.”
I can’t help but stare at
his rock-hard, glistening chest. This is what he wants. He wants me to give in to these urges and forget about my homework. Forget about everything else but him. And it would be so easy to get lost in Tristan.
“I have to study,” I say as I exit the steam room and he quickly follows after me. I grin as I imagine how cold it must feel out here to him after leaving the sauna with no shirt on. “Next time you want to play hide-and-seek, call Chris.”
Chapter Seventeen
Nine Years Ago
I walk into the master bedroom at Elaine’s house and I’m not surprised to find a girl lying spread-eagle on the bed wearing nothing but a black bra and panties. She looks young, maybe sixteen years old, with straight blonde hair that’s fanned out over the pillow under her head.
“She’s ready for you,” Elaine whispers from somewhere behind me. Maybe she’s not whispering, but I can barely hear her over the blood rushing through my ears.
My gaze darts toward the corner where a fat guy in a T-shirt and jeans sits on a chair with his hand on his belt buckle, readying himself. I look back at the girl on the bed and I get an urge to know her name – this girl who’s almost as young as I am and probably stuck in this impossible situation the same as I am. She closes her eyes, but she keeps them closed for a moment too long, and I know. I know she doesn’t want to be here. She’s probably saying a silent prayer to help her get through this.
I turn around and Elaine’s gaunt face is contorted in confusion. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t do this.”
She grabs my arm before I can leave and whispers in my ear: “How the fuck are we supposed to get out of here if you won’t help me? I need you, Tristan. I need to get out of here.”
I glance over my shoulder and the blonde girl is staring at me now, looking a little rejected. “I don’t know how to do this.”
Elaine smiles softly. “I’ll show you how.”
Chapter Eighteen
Once Senia is settled in the study with her laptop and a phony sense of contempt for my games, I inform her that I’m leaving and I’ll be back in about an hour. She looks a bit disappointed, but, again, she tries to cover this up with a casual goodbye. I hop in the Lightning and, I’ll admit, I’m really excited about picking up Grandma and Molly. It would have been more convenient to have Senia pick them up on the way here, but I forgot that Claire’s tiny car would probably be full of Senia’s stuff. This is beyond all right because I’m dying to see Molly and Grandma’s faces as we pull into the driveway.
When I arrive at Grandma’s house, Molly and Grandma are standing outside under the darkening sky with their coats pulled tightly against the cold. Molly looks bored, but Grandma’s face lights up the moment she sees my car. She must have forced Molly to wait outside with her.
“We are ready to be entertained,” Grandma declares as she practically trots down the path toward the curb.
Molly rolls her eyes and I grab the back of her coat to pull her aside before she can climb into the backseat. “Hey, I need you to not be in a mood today. Senia moved in with me this morning and I want Grandma to have a nice visit with us. Okay?”
She narrows her golden-brown eyes. “In a mood? What does that even mean? You want me to pretend to be happy?”
As much as I want this meeting between Senia and Grandma to go smoothly, I can’t tell her to pretend to be something she’s not. “No. I’m just asking you to remember that Senia picked you up when you were shit-faced and we never said a word about it to Grandma.” She casts her gaze downward at the grass and I glance over her shoulder at Grandma, who’s waiting patiently in the car. I grab Molly’s shoulder and plant a kiss on her forehead. “It’ll be okay, Moon. Come on.”
Grandma’s leg bounces nervously the whole drive there, but the moment I pull into the semi-circular driveway, she freezes. “This is yours?”
I nod as I pull the car up next to the front steps. I want to say, It can be yours, too. I want to offer Grandma and Molly a place in my home, but I know Molly is dead set against changing schools and I don’t want to cause her or Grandma any more stress.
Grandma’s starry-eyed as I open the front door and she steps inside. “This is yours?” she repeats the question and this gets a small chuckle out of Molly.
“Tristan, is that you?” Senia shouts from the kitchen. “A delivery guy just came with—” Senia’s surprised by us when she steps out of the kitchen. She glances at her T-shirt and short shorts and the embarrassment blooms in her cheeks. “Why didn’t you tell me you were bringing your family? Oh my God. I’m so embarrassed.”
“They delivered the pizza?” I ask her, but she’s too busy being mortified.
I look at Grandma and she’s smiling. “I remember you,” she says to Senia. “You’re the one who got drunk at Molly’s birthday party.”
Senia looks even more embarrassed now, if that’s even possible. “I’m so sorry. I had a drinking problem my freshman year. I’m so sorry.”
Grandma chuckles and waves away Senia’s apology. “Better to live life than watch from the sidelines.”
I’ve heard Grandma spout this droplet of wisdom plenty of times, but Senia looks surprised by the response. And even more surprised when Grandma Flo takes her into her arms. She wraps her arms around Grandma’s shoulders and bites her lips as she instantly begins to tear up. She looks to me, her eyes pleading for some kind of guidance as to what she should do. All I do is nod and I think she knows what I mean: Grandma knows about the baby.
Grandma lets her go and her face scrunches up as she attempts to hold back her tears. “Woo! I need a drink. Tristan, fix your Grandma a whiskey sour, please.”
Senia gives Molly and Grandma a tour of the house while I fix her a drink and set out some plates for the pizza I had delivered. By the time they get back, Grandma has her arms hooked in Senia’s and they’re giggling like schoolgirls as they approach the dining table in the breakfast nook.
They all take their seats at the table and Grandma sits between Senia and I while Molly sits on my other side. Senia appears as if she’s still on the verge of tears as she distributes slices of pizza to everyone. Finally, I grab Molly’s hand and she glares at me.
“Moon, Senia and I are having a baby.”
She shakes her head and chuckles. “What? Are you kidding me?”
“No,” I reply seriously and she turns to Senia.
Her eyes widen at the sincere look on Senia’s face, then she yelps so loud I think I may need to get my hearing checked after this dinner. “OMG!” she whispers. “I’m gonna be an aunt.”
And once her tears begin, Senia and Grandma are free to join in. Jesus Christ. I’m going to have to escape all this estrogen soon or I may have to call up Chris and gab about my feelings for Senia.
Yeah, right.
An hour later, we’ve all gorged ourselves on pizza and baby talk. I offer Grandma and Molly the guest rooms to stay the night, but Grandma insists I take them home. I think she thinks she and Molly are intruding on my and Senia’s alone time. She doesn’t know that Senia and I have agreed to keep things friendly until we can figure out how we’re going to raise this surprise baby.
After I drop them off and return home, I find Senia asleep on the sofa with the Science Channel playing on the TV. I turn off the TV and try not to grunt as I pick her up and carry her upstairs to her bed. I lay a soft kiss on her nose and quietly make my way out.
As I close the bedroom door behind me, I realize that I’ve changed. In the span of just a few weeks, I’ve gone from kicking girls out of my house to lovingly tucking them into the bed in my guest room. I sigh as I head for my bedroom with a pang of dark fear twisting inside my belly. Something bad is going to happen. I can feel it.
Chapter Nineteen
Our last five days of recording go smoothly. We wrap up the Friday before Christmas a
nd return to my house to celebrate. I’m not surprised to find Senia and Claire already hanging out in the kitchen. As Chris, Claire, Jake, and Rachel discuss Jake and Rachel’s wedding in the kitchen, I invite Senia into the living room to watch some TV. The Science Channel is showing a special on black holes and Senia quietly takes a seat next to me on the sofa to watch.
I’m not really watching the show. I keep stealing glances at the smooth skin on her legs and the way she subconsciously lays her hand protectively over her belly. I want to move her hand so I can place my hand there, but I’m pretty sure she’s not far along enough for the baby to kick. But how awesome will it be to feel my little guy inside of her.
Once Jake and Rachel go through my last five beers as she attempts to beat him at a beer-guzzling contest, Chris and Claire offer to go and pick up some more.
“I’ve got more in the fridge in the guest house. Come on. I’ll show you,” I say to Chris and he shrugs as he follows me outside.
I don’t really need to show him where I keep the beer in the pool house and he knows that. I just need to talk to him.
After some small talk about whether our manager, Xander, is going to call us back to re-record something, I unlock the door to the guest house and turn on the lights. Chris heads straight for the refrigerator of the studio and I wait by the front door.
“I don’t know what to get Senia for Christmas.”
Chris glances at me over his shoulder as he grabs two six-packs of Sam Adams out of the fridge. “You haven’t done that yet?”
“Hey, I’m not Mr. Monogamy like you. I don’t know how to do this shit.”
“So you’re not fucking anyone else?” he asks as he makes his way out of the kitchenette.
He pushes a six-pack into my chest and I contemplate this question. I haven’t fucked anyone since Chrissy on Thanksgiving. Well, unless you count the girl who worked at the grocery store that I hooked up with a few days ago, whatever her name was. She ran out to give me one of the bottles of Gatorade I dropped in the store and, one thing led to another, but Senia and I haven’t had sex since Yogurtland last month. It’s a poor excuse for a terrible wrong, not at all made right by the fact that Senia and I aren’t actually a couple yet, or the sickening regret that kept me awake that night.
