by Lynne Silver
The rest of the guys arrived quickly and they settled in to guy talk and drinking. He didn’t contribute much to the conversation when they discussed women. Half the group were in serious relationships. One guy was even married. The other half were still enjoying the single life.
Danny didn’t really fall into either category as he wasn’t in a relationship but wanted to be.
“What about you?” Drew suddenly asked, turning to Danny. Drew had been uncharacteristically quiet tonight on the subject of women. Danny knew him to be a serial dater, always looking for the next woman to warm his bed, but tonight he’d been silent on the topic.
“What about me?” he asked.
“Who are you sleeping with, or is celibacy part of your recovery process?”
Well, thanks for outing me to the whole table, asshole. He gave Drew a dirty look, but noticed the rest of the men were looking at him curiously. They’d noticed he’d said less than five words all night and now wanted to hear from him.
“I’m not celibate,” he said, hoping that would be the end of it, and hoping he spoke the truth. Though he and Amy hadn’t had sex in weeks, he hoped it was a temporary break and she’d ditch her loser lawyer soon.
Unfortunately, his words didn’t quell their interest. Quite the opposite.
“Who you fucking?” Ian asked, looking at him intently.
He wanted to punch him for calling what he and Amy had done fucking, but then he remembered that Amy was Ian’s fiancée’s best friend. Loyalty would be torn. “No one you know,” he said.
“You like her,” Drew said, “or is it sex?”
He looked around the table. “Jesus, what happened to guy’s night? Think my dick is turning into a pussy with the questions.”
Drew hooted. “He likes her.”
The rest of the table broke into ribald laughter, and the guy next to him clapped him on the back. Amid the cacophony, he said into his glass of soda, “But she doesn’t like me.” It shut them up and they quieted to turn to him.
Damn it. Why had he confessed that?
“But she’s willing to sleep with you?”
He didn’t know the name of the guy who’d asked that, but he faced him and nodded.
“How do you know she doesn’t like you? Did she say? Women don’t usually sleep with a guy unless they like them,” one of the guys said. “Or I’d have a lot more luck getting our waitress to come home with me tonight.”
There was a round of appreciative laughter, but then they turned back to Danny.
“She likes me but thinks I’m a bad bet for a relationship.” He shrugged. “She’s probably right. I’m a broke drug addict. What smart woman would get involved with me?”
Silence. Broken by Drew. “Dammit, we can’t even break up the pity party by ordering you a drink.”
They laughed, him included. He eyed the pitcher of beer he’d been studiously ignoring all night. “Maybe one.” Because, God, he wanted a drink. He’d wedged himself into the corner of the booth as a protection against reaching for the pitcher or finding his way to the guy in the opposite corner of the bar who he knew—he knew—would have any method of drug he wanted from pot to painkillers.
“No,” Ian said. “I promised Cat an early night.” He rose. “This was fun.” He looked to Danny. “You ready?”
He stole another glance at the dealer in the corner, then back to his future brother-in-law. “Fine.” Everyone shuffled out of the booth to let him out.
“It’s midnight, Ian,” Drew protested. “Night’s barely started.”
Ian grinned. “True. I’m headed to bed, but not for sleeping.”
There were groans. Danny glared at him. “That’s my sister you’re talking about.”
Ian laughed. “Sorry. Let’s go.”
They were quiet on the ride home.
“Thanks for driving me,” Danny said when they were about halfway back to his room in Amy’s house. “I know it’s out of your way.”
Ian shrugged. “Not a problem. Back in high school, there were six months of you driving me all over town.” Being older, Danny had gotten his license first.
“Yeah, but we lived only a mile apart. I’m applying for a hardship driver’s license soon.” Not that he would be able to afford a car.
“Sorry for making you come out tonight. I didn’t realize how hard it would be,” Ian said.
Now it was his turn to shrug. “It was fine. Parts of it were almost fun.”
“Yeah, but it has to be hard watching everyone else drink and stuff.”
“True. It’s not something I’d want to do every night, but I need to learn how to socialize in the real world again without everyone thinking I’m going to relapse.”
They got closer to Amy’s house, the Maserati moving sleekly along the darkened Miami streets. “How’s the living situation?” Ian asked when they were about a block away.
“Fine,” he said. Torture.
“Amy’s good people,” Ian said. “Feel bad that we didn’t have her back in high school.”
He said nothing, seeing as he regretted that every damn day, and every time he caught a glimpse of the photo he’d given her for Christmas. She had it on her nightstand, which meant every time he walked by her room, he saw it. Why had giving it to her seemed like a good idea? It only reminded him of his past failures every time he saw it.
They pulled into the driveway, and Ian slowed. “Cat thinks Amy’s pregnant.”
Danny froze in his position of opening the car door. “Excuse me?”
“At our dinner party. She vomited.”
“Yeah. From a stomach virus. Not everyone who throws up is pregnant.”
Ian grinned. “True, but Cat and my mom think Amy is. Guess we’ll have to get used to that douche, Mitch, hanging around.”
“Why?”
Ian looked at him as if he were a moron, and maybe he was. “Because he’s the dad, right? And they’re a couple. Hell, maybe they’ll get married.”
Feeling like he’d been punched in the stomach, he got out of the car and stumbled to the front door. With shaking hands, he pulled his keys from his jeans pocket and managed to unlock the door. Amy was pregnant? With Mitch’s baby. Fuck no.
He didn’t sleep that night. When he walked in the house, he barreled straight to Amy’s room, but her door was halfway closed, and she was curled under the covers, out. She was pregnant. Not even he was enough of a dick that he’d wake her up, even if the need to talk to her burned hotter than his always simmering desire to get high.
Instead he went to his room, showered, then sat in his bed hoping for sleep, but mostly staying awake so he could catch Amy in the morning. Around five a.m., he finally dozed a little but was awoken three hours later by the sound of retching.
He sat up and blinked, in his tired haze wondering absurdly if he was the one vomiting. There’d been too many mornings when he’d woken up in a pool of his own vomit to discount the thought. But then he shook off the sleepy haze and realized he was stone-cold sober, and the vomiting was coming from down the hall.
Amy.
He hurried to her room to see her crouched on the side of the bed, her long dark hair spread over the rim of her garbage can. He was pissed at her for getting herself pregnant with that idiot Mitch’s baby, and he was tempted for a split second to leave her to her misery.
However, she paused being sick for a minute, to look up from the trash can, and wiped her sticky forehead with the back of her hand and didn’t see him watching from the doorway. The look on her face was so miserable, he didn’t have the heart to say a goddamn negative word. Where was her dickhead boyfriend?
He hadn’t seen him around much in the past week since Cat and Ian’s engagement dinner. It shouldn’t be Danny heading to the kitchen for ginger ale and crackers. Nevertheless, he gathered up supplies and headed back to Amy’s room.
He entered without knocking, startling her. Wordlessly, he popped open a can of the soda and handed it to her.
She sipped it
for a few seconds, then looked at him. “Thanks.”
“Want crackers?” He held out the plastic sleeve, but she shook her head.
“You should eat something,” he said.
“Why? I’m only going to throw it up again,” she said.
“No. You’ll feel better after you eat.” One of the things he’d done while sitting up all night was do some internet reading on the early stages of pregnancy. He’d learned that some women experienced nausea way worse than others. From the look of things, Amy was one of those women.
“How do you know?” she mumbled, curling on her side, her back to him.
He didn’t wait for her permission and sat on the edge of the bed next to her. He rubbed her back. “Pregnant women need to eat in the morning.”
She rolled so quickly he had to press the floor with his feet to keep from getting knocked off the bed.
“What did you say?” she asked.
“I said pregnant women need to eat.”
Her eyes widened. “How—”
“When were you going to tell me?”
“Soon, I swear. Today. I needed time to process.”
He nodded. “I’ll stick around, if you don’t mind, while I look for a new living situation. Not going to get anything as nice as this for the same price, but you and Mitch won’t want me around with the baby.”
She sat up and clutched at his arm. “Danny.”
“No. It’s cool. You’re too nice to kick me out, so I’m kicking myself out.” He stood, leaving the crackers on her nightstand, and took a step toward the door. “Eat those. You’ll feel better.” He was halfway to the door when her words followed him.
“It’s not Mitch’s.”
He stopped and turned back to her.
She was sitting up, pale from being sick, her long hair hanging limply, and she looked gorgeous. If she were his woman, he’d be in that bed with her, rubbing her back and holding the garbage can for her.
“The baby. It’s not Mitch’s. He and I never…” A dot of pink entered her cheeks. “It’s yours. It’d have to be.”
He blinked at her and realized she was suddenly higher than him because his legs had given out and he’d ass-planted on the carpet. She leaped out of the bed to kneel in front of him. “Danny?” She cupped his cheek, and he grabbed her wrist.
“I’m okay.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, did you say the baby is mine?”
She nodded, her brown eyes wide as they gently took in his face. “Yes. That one time on the couch I think, the condom could’ve been bad.”
“That was weeks ago. More than a month.”
Another nod.
“Does that mean, you’re keeping it?”
Her teeth sank into her lower lip. “I’ll take responsibility since I never told you. You can do as much or as little as you want in the baby’s life.”
His mind still wasn’t operating on all cylinders thanks to his lack of sleep and the news bomb she’d detonated in his lap. Had she told him he didn’t have to be father to his own child? “Amy”—he cupped her cheeks in his palms—“I’m the dad. And I will be his dad. Or hers. Do you know yet?”
She shook her head. “No. I have my first checkup on Tuesday, which is why I swear I was going to tell you today in case you want to go with me. Do you?”
“This Tuesday? Hell yes.”
“I know you have to work.”
He loved that she knew that Joe had been giving him more responsibility at work and he would soon manage his own crew, but she and his kid were more important. He brushed it off. “I’ll figure it out. What time?”
“Noon. I’m going to try to go during my lunch hour. Cat can watch the store.”
He wrapped his arms around her, trying to pull her onto his lap, but she proved resistant. He had to settle for holding her and whispering against her hair. “I’m going to be there every step of the way, Amy. I swear. My dad was a great role model. I’m going to be like him.” He realized that he was crying like the baby they were about to have, and he tried to man up, but the emotions kept pouring out. “I know we didn’t mean for this to happen, but it feels right. Like it’s a blessing after all the shit. I don’t deserve it, but I’m going to. Swear it.”
“I know, Danny,” she whispered.
“Wait until Cat and Ian find out. Maybe we can do a double wedding or something.”
She stiffened against him and scooted a foot away. “Danny, there isn’t going to be a wedding.”
He couldn’t help it; his gaze dropped to her stomach then back to her face. “What?”
“I want you here as the baby’s daddy, but…that’s it.”
“What?” His stomach started churning as she explained what he feared she’d said.
“Nothing’s changed between us.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? Everything’s changed.”
“Danny. It’s 2017. We can have a baby together without getting married.”
“Amy. I’m half Cuban. Do you think the year fucking matters?” He was blowing this, but he couldn’t make his mouth shut up. “You’re having my baby. We should be a family.”
She pulled away from him and was now at the bed, arms crossed over her chest. “Do you love me? Because if you don’t, we shouldn’t get married, Danny.”
It was as if she sucker punched him, because in that moment, he realized he loved her and she hadn’t said a word about loving him back. He’d fucking fallen in love with her at some point over the past year of living together. Obviously she hadn’t been bitten by the same bug. He rose on shaky legs, his arm reaching out to balance him against the wall. “You’re right. If we don’t love each other… Stupid idea. Pretend I never said anything.”
He fled the room like it was on fire.
Amy watched his back, blinking, unsure what the hell had happened. In her head when she’d visualized how she’d tell Danny about the baby, it was the exact opposite of whatever the heck had caused Danny to run from the room.
In her mind, she was going to run out to Bagel Empire, get him his favorite everything bagel, and tell him over brunch. She’d tell him she was carrying his baby. He’d nod, agree to be the dad, and then…what?
What exactly had she pictured?
Something amicable. Unemotional. Maybe businesslike in planning for the future.
But instead he’d shown up in her bedroom, caring for her as usual, and then acted as if she’d mortally wounded him when she told him she wouldn’t marry him. Seriously, what had he been thinking? She and him getting married? Ridiculous.
Only, when he’d thrown the idea out there as if it were a done deal, her heart had reverberated with joy.
No. She shook her head and walked to her bathroom to turn on the shower. Pregnancy was messy business. Danny would be as good a dad as he could, but ultimately, this baby was her own responsibility.
She’d co-parent with him, until the first hint that he’d fallen off the sober train, and then he was barred from the baby’s life. Harsh, maybe, but necessary. She’d allowed herself to be seduced by his charm and him caring for her, but she was an adult. How would a child handle it?
As the water was running to heat, she left the bathroom and reentered her room to grab clean undies and an outfit for the day. She’d tugged off the oversized T-shirt and was about to head back to the bathroom when the door to her room opened and Danny popped his head through the doorway.
“I’m texting Ian to tell him we’re not going—” He broke off as soon as he saw her state of undress.
They both froze, the electricity in the air suddenly sparking.
His gaze ran hotly over her bared breasts. She squeezed her thighs together in response.
“Your tits are bigger,” he commented.
She folded her arms over them as her cheeks heated. Why was she being shy? There was nothing he hadn’t seen before. “Your imagination,” she scoffed, except she had been feeling like her bra was tighter. Great, was she going to be one of those pregnant women
who carried all in her already huge chest? She’d have to get signage to wear. Warning, suffocation risk. Stand three feet back.
Instead of running from the room, Danny had taken a step in and was eyeing her with an unmistakable gleam of interest. “Are you still nauseous?”
“No.” She took a step back. “What are you doing? I told you, Danny, we’re going to co-parent, but I don’t know if I can handle a relationship right now, too.”
A look she couldn’t interpret crossed his face, but then he blinked and it was gone. “Who said anything about romance? Can’t we fuck?”
Oh, God. His question should’ve sent her running for the bathroom, but stupid her, she took a step to him. “It’s probably not a good idea.”
He inched forward until his chest was close to touching hers. If she leaned slightly forward, her nipples would graze his skin.
In all the excitement of her vomiting then telling him about the baby, she’d barely registered that he’d entered her room this morning wearing only what he’d slept in, which was a pair of faded grey boxer briefs.
Every long thick line of his erection was visible through the cotton. Her pussy gave an intrigued pulse.
“Or maybe we shouldn’t,” he whispered. “Is it safe?”
“I think so,” she whispered back. “Lot of babies in the world. I can’t imagine their parents were celibate for nearly a year before they were born.”
“Good point.” Then he bent over to kiss her, but she pulled back.
“I need to brush my teeth.”
“I don’t care.” He bent over her again.
“I do, and I was vomiting.”
He pulled back and gestured to the bathroom. She didn’t expect him to follow her in, but he stayed close on her heels.
When she gave him a look, he cupped her butt and planted a kiss on her neck. What the heck? He could stay.
She stood at the sink, squeezing toothpaste onto her brush while he stood behind her with his dick pushing at the crevice of her ass. He’d shed his underwear, so she felt his hot skin against hers.
