“Then why didn’t you just say that?”
“Why would I?” I fisted my hands to hold back my irritation—she didn’t deserve it. “As soon as anyone finds out that I still lived in my childhood bedroom, they immediately think I’m lazy or entitled. No one bothers to consider that there might be other reasons why a thirtysomething-year-old guy would still be at home.”
“Exactly. I would think you’d want to set the record straight.”
“There’s no point, Kelsey. I understand what you’re saying, but I refuse to defend myself time and time again. People will think what they want anyway. Why waste my time and energy forcing them to see me for who I am instead of all the assumptions they’ve made along the way?”
Her shoulders fell as she leaned forward and took my hand. “Is that why you don’t tell anyone that you strip for extra cash?”
“Wait . . .” I had to have heard her wrong. “What?”
“I’m pretty sure Tatum would’ve told me that you’re a male dancer if she knew. So either you don’t tell anyone about your weekend gig—which I would completely understand—or you’re not really a stripper. Which would make a lot of sense and explain so much.”
A smile tugged at my lips, burning the muscles in my cheeks as I stared into her eager eyes. “My friend works at Boots—Cheryl. She called me that night and told me she needed a favor. I had no idea what she wanted me to do. In fact, I didn’t know it would involve taking off my clothes until I walked in and that one girl—Rebecca, the blonde who kind of recognizes me—said something.”
“And what was your reason for playing along?”
“Seemed like a good idea at the time. Gave me a chance to meet a few ladies, possibly get a number or two. Why wouldn’t I?”
She slipped her hand off mine and sat up straight again, as if my admission had physically pushed her away. “Listen . . . about that night—”
“You don’t have to say anything.” I covered her smooth, warm thigh with my palm, calling her eyes to mine. “I won’t lie . . . it was amazing. Hands down the best night of my entire life. But we had agreed to never see each other again for a reason. No matter how fantastic we were in bed, trying it a second time would never be the same.”
“Oh, I wasn’t insinuating we should do it again.”
Boy . . . was my face red.
“Then good. Looks like we’re on the same page.” I stood and took a hesitant step toward the door, hoping she’d tell me to stay—just for one night. The issue was more or less falling into bed while living together, but we weren’t roomies quite yet. “Anything else you need to tell me?”
She closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and then slowly lifted her lids. “Nope. See you next weekend.”
“See you then.”
Chapter 9
Kelsey
This was a bad idea.
A very, very bad idea. One I couldn’t get out of easily.
Had I known who Aaron was when Tatum asked me to let him stay in her old room, I would’ve said no. Hell, if I’d known I was pregnant when she asked, I would’ve said no. Now, I was living with my one-night stand—who doubled as my baby’s father—and no matter what I did, I couldn’t get away from him.
Such as right now . . . at my parents’ house for our weekly Sunday barbecue.
When he’d caught me getting ready this morning, he’d asked where I was headed. I’d been too busy to contemplate the pathetic look on his face while he sat on the couch, reminding me very much of a puppy being left behind while its owner went out to have fun. Had I given that possibility much thought, I wouldn’t have told him. Unfortunately for me, I hadn’t . . . so I told him. After that, I couldn’t not invite him along. Although, in my defense, I’d hoped he’d say no.
He didn’t.
Then again, I probably should’ve guessed that’d be his answer. Jason and Tatum would be there, and if he still had anything to do with Marlena, he’d know almost everyone in attendance. Really, having him there made more sense than leaving him at the apartment alone all day.
“He’s cute,” my mom said while staring at Aaron’s profile. She didn’t care who was around, who could hear, or even how uncomfortable the things she blurted out made anyone feel. She was who she was, and by this point, there was no changing it.
We were on the patio with Tatum and my aunt, Jason’s mom. My sister was inside somewhere with one of her kids doing God knew what—things I’d eventually have to do unless I could find a way to afford a nanny. Shit, even a poop nanny would be okay. I could handle the rest as long as someone else dealt with the shitty diapers. Well, that and throw up. And drool. Okay, fine . . . I’d have to have a full-time nanny to handle everything.
Or . . . I could let Marlena raise the little booger until it could use a toilet and wipe its own nose. She’d had two, and they were both still breathing, so why not? At least my kid would be in safe hands.
Mom nudged me with her elbow, breaking me out of the manic delusions that had taken over my brain. “Are you spending time with him? Getting to know him at all?”
I glanced past the pool to the dock, where Aaron stood next to Jason and my dad around the grill. He laughed at something that was said—tilted his head back and just let the sexy sound roar out like a werewolf howling at the moon. Even if I hadn’t been able to hear the sound, the sight alone would have been enough to offer me plenty to think about later when I was all alone in my room.
No one needed to know the level of desperation my sex life had reached.
“He’s only been at the apartment for a week, Mom. There hasn’t been much time to spend with each other.” I pointed at her, mere inches from her face so she knew I meant business. “Don’t play matchmaker, and don’t get your hopes up. I’m not interested. Ever. Got it?”
Mom had this annoying way of pushing me toward a guy, even though I’d repeatedly told her that if I wanted to settle down, I would do so. That had never stopped her from finding every guy around my age to be perfect for me.
Technically, she’d gotten to a point recently where age no longer mattered. As long as they were still in their prime and could have kids, she was all about it. God save my soul.
“Where’s my camera?” She shifted in her seat as though she was about to stand up, but I put a stop to that by grabbing her arm.
“Please don’t make this awkward. I have to live with him for the next couple of months.” And be tied to him for eighteen years. I inwardly groaned at that thought. “Cool it with the camera today, will ya? I’m sure he doesn’t want candid photos of himself all over your Facebook page. In fact, he doesn’t even need to know you’re on social media, so please, don’t send him a friend request. That’s just uncomfortable on so many levels.”
Apparently, she’d lost her sense of hearing. Either that, or she ignored anything I had to say. There was a good chance the latter was more accurate. At least she’d given up on the camera—for now. “I hear he’s a doctor. It’d be amazing to have a doctor in the family, wouldn’t it?”
I stared off into the distance, watching the way he interacted with my dad, occasionally glancing up at us before returning his attention to the grill or whatever it was they were talking about down there. The weather was warm, although there was a faint breeze that swept through at a consistent pace, keeping most of the humidity from settling on our skin. Yet I couldn’t help but imagine how hot he had to be standing beneath the sun in jeans and a collared shirt.
Sweat. Glistening skin. Slick abs . . .
I shook my head, hoping to rid myself of any image that would induce arousal.
“He’s a therapist,” I answered without taking my eyes off him. Off his smile or the slight jump in his shoulders when he laughed. He appeared so carefree, so uninhibited. Maybe it was the fact that he was around a couple of guys, or that he had his best friend with him for comfort.
It also appeared I wouldn’t be able to escape becoming aroused where he was concerned.
“Isn’t a therapist
still a doctor?”
Clearing my throat, I brought my attention back to my mother, who continued to shamelessly regard the men on the dock. “I have no idea, but I assume only psychiatrists would be considered doctors since they prescribe medicine.”
Her lips quirked to one side, her brows closing in on each other. And then, because she couldn’t let anything go, she interrupted Tatum’s conversation with my aunt. “Didn’t you tell me that Aaron’s a doctor?”
“For the love of all the things, Mom. Must you constantly try to prove everyone wrong every chance you get?”
Tatum, Aunt Lori, and my mom all swung shocked, wide eyes my way. Sure, I could’ve kept my mouth shut, kept my frustrations to myself, but thanks to the overabundance of hormones in my system, I was powerless to stop it. It was as though my mouth had opened by itself, annoyance lacing every single syllable that flew off my tongue without one ounce of consciousness.
“I just got done telling you that I have no idea but that I didn’t think so. I wasn’t arguing with you. I didn’t disagree. I specifically said I wasn’t sure. So there’s no reason to cut in the middle of Tater’s conversation just to prove a point.”
While they continued to blink at me like their eyelids had all synchronized to the same rhythm of surprise, my pulse began to slow. And once that happened, the heat in my face lessened, the fog in my mind thinned, and reality slowly settled over me.
These body changes would be the death of me.
I couldn’t control them, no matter how desperate I was to keep a tight lid on every last one of them. Everything either made me cry or caused me to flip out without so much as a warning. And the more frequently it happened, the crazier I started to feel.
“Sorry. I’ve been so hormonal lately.”
My mom’s bright eyes widened. “Does this mean . . . ?”
“No. It doesn’t.” It did, but I wasn’t about to go there now. Especially with Aaron here. “And why can’t you be like every other parent? I’m not in a relationship, not even dating someone. So if I were . . .” I eyed her, refusing to say the word. “I’d be a single mother. How could you possibly be excited about that?”
Lord knew I wasn’t.
“You’re the one who refuses to date. Refuses to have anything long term in your life. All I want is a grandchild. Is that too much to ask?”
I pointed to the slider that led inside. “You have two in there.”
“Another one. From you. Stop pretending like this is the first time you’ve heard me say this.” Maybe my frustrations with my mom weren’t completely pregnancy induced. After all, this had been going on for quite some time. Her wanting a grandchild from me and my complete lack of desire to give her one weren’t new developments.
“As much as I hate to be the bearer of bad news . . . I’m starting my period soon.” I had Tatum to thank for that one—her convenient ways of spinning the truth worked out well at times. “Go convince Nick and Marlena to pop out another one.”
“Anyway . . .” Mom waved me off, ignoring me like she often did when I didn’t tell her what she wanted to hear, and returned her attention to Tatum. “Didn’t you say he was a doctor?”
“Who . . . Aaron?” Tatum glanced over her shoulder at the men on the dock—likely for nothing more than an excuse to see her husband, based on the glowing blush in her cheeks. “Yes, ma’am. Dr. Aaron Baucus.”
“So he’s a psychiatrist? Not a psychologist? Am I confusing the two?” I asked, disregarding the fact that though I’d just flipped out on my mom for trying to prove a point, it seemed I was guilty of the same thing. Although, I could easily pass my question off as a desire to broaden my intelligence.
“Neither. He’s a neuropsychologist.” Tatum must’ve been in her own world if she didn’t recognize the three pairs of blinking eyes set on her. Finally, she chose to explain without being prompted. “It has something to do with the brain and head trauma. I think. But don’t hold me to it; I could be way off. I just know it’s super scientific.”
It both baffled and intrigued me as to why he hadn’t admitted that, choosing to almost downplay his profession for some unknown reason. He’d discussed his practice, and on Wednesday, he’d come home late because of some consultation he’d had at the hospital. Then again, I hadn’t asked, so I couldn’t be that surprised to be hearing of this for the first time.
“Wow,” Mom whispered—technically, it was more of a swoon than of a whisper. “He sounds like he’s really smart.” That’s when the nudging started all over again, reminding me once more that I should never sit next to her. “Looks and brains, Kelsey. He sounds like a winner.”
“And you sound like a shoo-in for the host of The Price Is Right meets Love Connection. Either way, I’m not interested.” Which I wasn’t. Except for when I found myself alone in my bed, recalling all the things he’d done to my body.
These damn hormones . . .
“I’m not saying go out and have his baby or anything . . .” Mom didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence because Tatum started to choke. She turned to Tatum and asked, “Are you all right? Did you swallow a fly?”
“Yes, Mother,” I droned, utter sarcasm dripping like honey from my tone. “She swallowed a fly. There’s no telling why she decided to swallow a fly, but rumor has it she might die. We should keep an eye on her before she swallows a spider to catch the fly. I hear it’s a vicious cycle after that. If she makes it to the goat . . . I’m out.”
At some point, they all stopped and glared at me. Even Tatum, who had been dying a few seconds earlier. “Your level of concern is noted.” Her smile might have been fake, but I could see the sincerity in her eyes—she couldn’t hide that from me.
We’d share a good laugh about this later.
“What were you saying, Diane? I’m sorry I so rudely interrupted.” Tatum was looking at my mom, but her words were directed at me.
Mom sat back and lifted her eyes to the sky beyond the patio. Then her lips curled, a sign that she remembered what we’d been in the middle of discussing. “Give the guy a chance, Kelsey. It’s not like you have to go out of your way. He’s living with you, for Pete’s sake.”
“I’m well aware of his living situation, Mom. But thanks for the reminder.”
“All I’m saying is . . . it’d be nice if you spent some time with him, got to know him a little better. After all, you had no idea he’s a doctor. Imagine all the other things you could find out about him if you just gave it a chance.”
If she only knew the things I’d found out about him during one night of tequila-induced sex, then she wouldn’t want me to have anything to do with him. I was her little girl. There was no way she’d be okay with some of the things he’d done to me in the dark.
“I think I hear Marlena calling for me.” I got up and excused myself, thankful that no one bothered to stop me, even though I hadn’t fooled anyone. Marlena didn’t call for me—and if she needed anyone, I’d be the last person she hollered for.
There was only so much bonding time I could take with my mom. She meant well, had the biggest heart of anyone alive . . . but damn, that woman hadn’t gotten the memo that just because I was her child, it didn’t make her the puppeteer of my life.
“Why didn’t you tell me you’re a doctor?” I asked as soon as we were in the car, buckling our seat belts.
Aaron had pitched a fit because I wouldn’t let him drive to my parents’ house—something about how a man in the passenger seat was equivalent to castration. I’d ignored most of it, so I wasn’t exactly sure what his issue was, but at least he didn’t seem to have it on our way home.
“Considering I was in a white coat the first time you saw me, I guess I didn’t think it was necessary to bring it up. How was I supposed to know you didn’t think I was a doctor?” The way he fidgeted with the strap across his chest and kept his attention out the window, he appeared nervous.
I didn’t understand why, though. “Well, I was under the impression you were a stripper at tha
t point, and when I found out it was all a ruse to get laid, I—”
“It wasn’t a ruse to get laid. I already told you this.”
“Fine . . . to get a few numbers. Better?” I glanced to the side and noted his awkward nod, as if agreeing to that somehow made him feel like crap. Which, again, made no sense, considering he was the one who’d admitted that part to me. “Regardless, once I found out you aren’t a stripper, the white coat was the last thing on my mind.”
“It hasn’t come up. And there hasn’t been a need to give you my credentials or educational background. I guess I could’ve given you my business card, but I didn’t exactly see a reason to.” He had a point, even if I didn’t like the way it was delivered.
So far, the worst part of pregnancy was how unbalanced my moods were. For example, my mom could piss me off in a nanosecond by doing nothing other than saying my name in the wrong chord. Tatum didn’t have to do much more than breathe to be on the other end of my sarcasm—although, to be fair, I’d always reserved that special level of dry, feigned acrimony just for her. It was kind of our thing.
However, with Aaron, I didn’t fly off the deep end or cut him with my sharp tongue. It was rather difficult to be irritated with him when all I could think about was his hands on my body and his tongue on my—
Dammit. I did it again.
“Can we just go back to why you didn’t tell me you were a doctor?” We literally had a five-minute drive to the apartment. If he didn’t answer soon, I’d likely never get the answer to my question.
“Go back? When did we ever leave? Did we have another conversation I’m not aware of?”
Bless all the things. Thank God he couldn’t read my thoughts and discover that he’d been my distraction . . . unknowingly.
“I’m being serious, Aaron. I look like a fool in front of my family when Tatum or Jason say something and I’m in the dark. What do you think that looks like to my parents?” Not giving him a second to respond, I answered for him. “I’ll tell you what it looks like . . . that I have a strange guy living with me, and I don’t know a single thing about him. If I go missing—”
The Secret Baby Page 10
