The Bad Boys

by Sosie Frost

  Nate hurried from the apartment, taking the steps downstairs two at a time. I watched him leave, tickled by the flutter of lust, desire, and excitement that bubbled through me.

  Once it had confused me, layering me in shame and silence.

  Now?

  I didn’t have to hide my feelings for Nate. I could share every single secret, emotion, and longing with the man I loved.

  I never thought being a functional couple could make me feel so damn lucky.

  I grabbed my bag and hurried to the bathroom, brushing my teeth and hair at the same time…which ended with me covered in toothpaste and a little nauseated. I had no idea where my packed pajamas were stashed in the apartment, so I grabbed the only ones I could find from my overnight bag.

  That left me to seduce Nate in pink polka dots. Somehow greeting him naked felt a little too slutty, but the pajamas were just too…pink.

  Only one option. I lived with him for approximately two hours. That gave me recourse to break any vow of expected privacy. I searched Nate’s drawers for an oversized shirt and slipped it over me.

  There.

  Perfectly innocent, temptingly naughty, and I left the panties in the corner of the room where I figured a hamper would make the most sense.

  …If he had one.

  Unfortunately, I made the worst mistake a pregnant woman could make that wasn’t folding a slice of pizza over a chocolate chip cookie—which had tasted good until it came back up.

  I laid down.

  And the move, the stress, the exhaustion, and the warmth of Nate’s bed rushed over me.

  My eyes closed.

  I rolled over when Nate returned, but I didn’t remember saying good night, even as he kissed my shoulder and tried to rouse me.

  After a few minutes, he gave up and flipped on the TV.

  That woke me up.

  I murmured, and he reluctantly turned the volume down a notch. Another murmur and he adjusted it down again.

  I had to get to sleep before the heartburn, burping, and headache from the pregnancy kicked into full gear. I wasn’t losing another night’s sleep to the weirdest pregnancy side effects no one ever talked about. Nate protested as I grabbed the remote from his hand.

  The TV turned off. I collapsed against the pillow. Nate grumbled.

  Pregnancy was hard.

  Living together was probably going to be tougher.

  2

  Nate

  One Week Post Move-In

  An extra toothbrush in my medicine cabinet.

  Two shampoos, two conditioners, and three bath gels in my shower.

  Prenatal vitamins and some sort of organic voodoo grain pancake mix on my counter.

  Not a dirty dish in sight.

  I stumbled into the kitchen, stubbing my toe on the kitchen chair. It hurt, but I was so goddamned tired the pain took an extra second to make me swear.

  Didn’t need that toenail anyway.

  I shuffled into the seat, held my head in my hands, and tried to read the words on the message board Mandy stuck on the fridge. Something about a doctor’s appointment tomorrow? I blinked. It didn’t clear up, but I was damn sure the appointment was scheduled ridiculously early. Nine-thirty?

  Jesus.

  What time was it now? Hell if I could see. I groped my pockets for my phone.

  Wasn’t wearing pants.

  I thought it was cold.

  “Good morning!”

  Mandy’s sweet, melodic, unrelentingly chipper voice pierced my brain. I didn’t have a hangover as I hadn’t had anything to drink, but the loudness wasn’t pleasant on…three hours’ sleep.

  She kissed my cheek. That made it better. I attempted to hide my shame with a politely placed napkin before she poked at me again.

  She busied herself around the kitchen, tossing her purse on the table and kicking her shoes until the sandals slipped on. Water splashed in the sink, the bottles in the fridge rattled as she searched for her pre-made lunch, and the tea-kettle whistled on the stove.

  Did I fall asleep with my eyes open? When had she made tea?

  “Can I get you anything?” Mandy smiled at me so sweetly and dressed so professionally for work I almost felt bad for ignoring everything she said so I could stare at her ridiculously swollen tits. “I can’t keep eggs down, but I can probably scramble some for you. Also…I ate all the crusts off the bread last night, but I’ll make you the white part for toast. Or I think we have some cereal, but I need to get more milk. If I stop at the store, would you want me to get anything in particular? I like Cheerios, but the doctor mentioned Mini-Wheats as maybe being better for the baby, but I still can’t eat much beyond oranges and bananas…”

  What Twilight Zone Hell was this? I rubbed my face.

  “Baby…” My voice was a harsh grumble. “What time is it?”

  “Six-thirty.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  She giggled. “Haven’t been up this early before?”

  “Sure…when I haven’t gone to bed.” I glanced out the window. “Why the hell is it still dark?”

  “Because it’s early, silly.”

  “You realize I don’t even have morning wood yet, right?” I pointed to my pantsless legs. “That’s too goddamned early.”

  “I have to open the office at seven.”

  “I…” I couldn’t see straight. “Gotta sleep. Bed. Go.”

  Mandy grinned, and seeing that was almost worth waking up early. She leaned down and gave me a kiss, winking as she unbuttoned the top of her blouse so I could get a full show of what distracted me.

  Now it was worth it.

  But her mouth wasn’t where I wanted it.

  My cock hardened, and she teased it with a soft graze of her finger. “Ah, good morning to you too. Now you don’t have an excuse. Gotta get up.”

  “I’d rather go down…”

  She pulled away before I could get a peek of her panties under her skirt. “I’ll be home at five. See you then?”

  “I’m bartending tonight. I’ll be downstairs until closing.”

  Mandy crinkled her nose. “I don’t know how you can work so late.”

  “Not sure how you crawl out of bed this early in the morning.”

  She smirked. “If you think this is bad…wait for when the baby comes.”

  I pulled her in for another kiss. “Don’t think I can.”

  She coo’ed and squirmed the way I liked. My cock twitched, but she insisted she had to leave.

  At least she’d be imagining me all day.

  Except my cock bobbed and smacked my damn leg with every step back to bed. It tented the sheets as all I smelled was her sweet vanilla scent.

  No sleeping then.

  I peeled myself from the bed and hobbled into the shower…

  And I emerged cold, wet, and towel-less. I ripped through the apartment, finally finding the stash of towels in the hall closet where no bare-assed person fresh from a shower would think to look. Sure, they were washed, but it wasn’t like I had room on the bathroom counter to set it, not with Mandy’s hair dryer and supplies crowding the sink.

  No hot water left in the tank, and no towels.

  I loved Mandy—more than anyone and anything…but damn this adjustment was hard. At least she had a killer ass, sweet smile, and my baby in her belly.

  Living together took some work. Bryce warned about the changes—new food in the fridge, favorite clothes thrown out, everything smelling like weird candles and fabric softener.

  I just hadn’t thought I’d need to find a new place to set my towel.

  Or that I’d move aside twelve different flavors of Greek yogurt to make room for a six pack.

  Or that I had to keep the TV volume low when I tried to fall asleep. Mandy couldn’t sleep with any noise, but I hated the silence.

  It was worth it though. I had her. I’d have my baby. All families took a while to sort out their boundaries. And hell, I already missed her when she wasn’t around the house.

  I hit
the bar before she got home. It sounded worse than it was when I texted it to her, but I hoped our unborn child would understand that I sold the booze, I wasn’t drinking it. Much.

  The night was busy, and Mandy gave me a peck on the cheek when she dragged herself in.

  “Tired.” She shouted over the music. The jukebox raged, and a group of college kids sang in the corner. She pointed to her stomach. “Hungry.”

  Poor thing. Pregnancy really kicked the ass of a mom-to-be. It was a wonder anyone did it. Then again, it wasn’t like Mandy had planned for this to happen. So far, it had been the best thing to happen to either of us, but I still didn’t like her suffering for it.

  I hugged her, but she crinkled her nose. Whoops. I smelled of grease from the fryer. If she didn’t like that, she wouldn’t like my offer for dinner.

  “No burger?” I asked.

  “Peanut butter, apples, and chicken broth.”

  I feared for my kitchen. “Not together, I hope.”

  “That remains to be seen.”

  Mandy headed to the apartment—one I was sure would resemble the scene from the Exorcist the instant the peanut butter hit the soup. But I wasn’t stopping her. I already learned the easiest way to lose a finger was to take a sandwich from a pregnant woman’s hands, no matter how much grape jelly she slathered on the salami.

  Messing with cravings was idiot move number one, and I liked my balls where they were, not crushed on the floor under her heels.

  I hoped to check on her after an hour or so, but the night only got busier. Arrogance became a local hot spot over the past few months, and I was slammed behind the bar. I’d have to hire another bartender and server soon, especially before the baby came.

  I texted her around ten o’clock. That went…poorly. Her reply wasn’t kind. Apparently she had fallen asleep and waking her up didn’t earn me any points.

  Lesson learned. I let her sleep and worked the rest of the night, finally kicking out the last barflies at two in the morning. My waitress dragged herself from behind the counter and out the door, barely waving a hand goodbye.

  Was I the only night owl left in the world?

  I much preferred the party scene, the nighttime fun, the excitement after dark. Even a Tuesday night could be entertaining if a person put in the effort. I connected my phone to the wireless speakers and turned the volume up as I organized the receipts, invoices, and bills I left piled on my office desk.

  Pandora blasted the third Aerosmith song of the night at me, rattling the windows and thumping the bass through the office.

  Then the music cut out.

  Mandy glowered in the doorway, wearing my shirt, polka dotted pants, and two different slippers. She slammed the door to my office open and trembled on the verge of either rage or dismay.

  Or murder. Possibly murder.

  “What are you doing?”

  She sounded pissed, but she immediately started bawling. I didn’t trust those tears. The hormones controlled that weeping, just like they told her to bite, snarl, or rip off various parts of me she felt were responsible for her condition.

  “Heyyyy,” I said, as gently as possible, hands raised in surrender. “What are you doing up, sleepyhead?”

  Her finger pointed accusatorily at my iPhone and speakers. “How can I sleep?”

  “Oh…you heard the music?”

  “Are you kidding?” Her hands clenched into fists. “I finally got used to the noise of the bar, and now it sounds like a damn concert down here!”

  Wow. Wasn’t telling her about the Battle of the Bands event I scheduled for the end of the month.

  “Sorry, baby. I wasn’t trying to wake you.”

  “It’s three in the morning!”

  “I’m working.”

  “I’m sleeping!” Mandy rubbed her face. “I know. You’re just…trying to get your bar closed up for the night. I’m sorry. I’m just really tired and cranky and…”

  I approached—slowly and cautiously, how they did on the nature shows when approaching big cats or moose. Mandy let me hug her, and I gently kissed those pouting lips.

  “Go to bed. I’ll be up in a few minutes. I won’t make a peep. I promise.”

  “We have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow.”

  “I know.”

  She kissed me, and that damn lizard brain of mine flared. I got hard even when I knew it wasn’t safe to test the beast just yet. I watched her go, deliberating on whether I could convince her to let me tuck her in right…

  And then I saw the math error.

  Goddamn it. My waitress walked out of the bar, exhausted and dragging, and hadn’t counted the register right.

  I sat at my desk. Two hundred dollars short? How the fuck—

  Two hours and one massive headache later, I figured it out. Jenny wasn’t the type to steal, but she was damn busty and had a tendency to lean on the register to earn more tips. Some nights she forgot to reverse the transactions accidentally inputted by her tits.

  Quarter after five, and I hadn’t even done inventory.

  Screw it.

  I didn’t get any sleep yesterday, and today wasn’t looking much better. I hauled my ass up the stairs and headed to bed.

  I no sooner hit the pillow before Mandy groaned. The blanket kicked off, and she grumbled all the way to the bathroom.

  New rule. No messing with cravings, and no waking her from a dead sleep.

  She emerged from the bathroom, snuggled under the covers, and tucked her icy feet against my legs. My turn to swear. I shifted. She followed.

  Fine. I didn’t mind snuggling with her. I turned, wrapped an arm over her belly, and held her close. She stopped cursing me, and I closed my eyes.

  We earned thirty seconds of peace.

  Her feet hadn’t even warmed before she woke with a lurch.

  Mandy bolted from the bed, launching off the mattress with a swift kick to my balls.

  She was lucky she threw up before me. My stomach heaved, but I couldn’t peel myself from the mattress to follow. Pain. Shooting. Horrible. Unrelenting—

  I clutched the only thing that gave me more pride than my brewery.

  “Sorry!” Mandy coughed from the bathroom. “Morning sickness.”

  I gasped for air. “Yeah…be glad you got the baby now. Not so sure I can make another for you.”

  Mandy rolled from the bathroom and sat on the edge of the bed. My cold sweat wasn’t much better than the dry heaving. I couldn’t move yet, even when Mandy whimpered, trembled her lower lip, and crashed into my chest.

  “I’m so tired.”

  I knew the feeling. “Go back to sleep. You have time before work.”

  “Can’t. I’m wide awake.”

  Great, and the one time I couldn’t service her. I could try, but I hadn’t been able to sit up yet. Mandy whimpered and tucked in close to me, the blankets at her neck. The pain slowly passed, and I closed my eyes as she snuggled and went still.

  My hand drifted low, gently rubbing her tummy. I never thought of pregnant women as sexy before—more like bullets-dodged or women off-the-market, but on Mandy…it looked good. The little bump was beautiful and sexy and adorable all at the same time.

  And I’d prove it to her after I got a full night’s sleep, shower, breakfast, a good hour of exercise—

  I drifted to sleep. Mandy poked my chest.

  “Nate?”

  I didn’t open my eyes. “Mm?”

  “Are you awake?”

  “No.”

  “The baby is coming in less than five months. Closer to four.”

  “Mm hmm.”

  “Does that scare you?”

  “Not as much as another kick in the balls.”

  “I’m serious.”

  So, we weren’t sleeping. I hugged her. “It’s a baby, not a nuke. It’ll be fine.”

  “What if it’s not? What if we’re in over our heads? What if we can’t handle it?”

  This was almost three months of keeping the kid a secret bottling up and f
inally cracking out. “It’s going to be okay. You let yourself worry alone about this for so long, it’s just getting to you.”

  “Getting to me?”

  “Yeah, We’ve only had a month together to process this. You kept it quiet for longer. But now you have me to calm you down when you overreact.”

  “Over—” Mandy lurched from my arms. “Overreact? Nate this is a baby. A baby is coming. How aren’t you freaking out?”

  “Because it’s our baby.”

  “But there’s so much to do. Nurseries and clothes and doctors and…labor.”

  “And we’ll take care of all that.”

  “Why are you so calm?”

  I rose to my elbows. “Because it’s six o’clock in the morning, and the baby is months and months away. We’ll handle it—one crisis at a time. Just like the wedding.”

  “Oh Lord, this is nothing like the wedding. I can’t taco bar my way through motherhood.”

  I grinned, flopping back onto the pillow. “Why the hell not? Might make you the most popular mom in the neighborhood. Nachos, tacos, burritos—”

  Mandy didn’t appreciate the joke. “I can’t believe you aren’t taking this seriously.”

  “I can’t believe you’re so worried.”

  She grunted. “I have to go make a list.”

  “Of what?”

  “Who knows? Things that can go wrong. Things that have gone right. What I have to do today, tomorrow, next week. What we’ll need to do for the next eighteen years. Take your pick.”

  “Want some help?”

  “Will you take it seriously?”

  “I’ll sharpen your pencil.”

  Mandy groaned. “Nate. Fine. Sleep. I’ll be okay.”

  I was serious, but Mandy stormed into the living room. I didn’t have the energy to chase her, or the pain tolerance to stand. She was upset, I was exhausted, and nothing was going to get done at six in the freaking morning that couldn’t wait for a decent, normal hour.

  Like noon.

  I didn’t have time to sleep. My balls had just un-swelled when my alarm vibrated from my pocket. I put up a cell phone and nearly pitched it across the room.

  Mandy stood in the doorway. Dressed. Showered. Scowling.

  “We have a doctor’s appointment. We need to leave in twenty minutes.”