Stolen Tyme
Page 25
Our hips roll together, back and forth. Each movement brings us closer to the highest level. Our lips break apart, an aching need to have more of his lips on mine consumes me.
“You can’t leave me again. And I can’t have time to think. Next time I need time to think, I’ll do it with you right next to me.”
I moan out, nodding in agreement. My own pleasure radiating outward.
Only, it’s not good enough for him. His fingers come up, threading through my hair, exposing my neck to him. “I want the words,” he growls into my ear.
“I won’t ever leave.” Never. Ever.
At least in my heart I won’t.
“Good.”
X moves his hips harder after my confirmation, each hammer in hitting every spot in me I crave. It’s my addiction. My damn vice I never want to give up. X has me at his mercy.
Closing my eyes, I take everything in. That’s when it starts. My toes curl, my fingers spasm, my stomach clenches. And I seize as the orgasm rips through me.
Too lost.
Too gone.
I want more.
More of his touch.
Too busy gone in my head to notice anything about X ‘til he slowly pulls out of me.
“I missed you,” I say. Because I did. I will tomorrow when he leaves me, too. I’ll always miss him.
“I missed you, too.” The underlying hunger travels through his words.
The sun peeks through the windows of the suite, the new day officially starting, and unlike yesterday, I don’t have the peaceful quietness of only me in the kitchen. I’m not alone. And I’m in nothing but X’s T-shirt—not one I stole, but one that has his scent still lingering in the fabric. This morning came too fast. He charged me up, and I’m not sure I can go the next few weeks without him here. He will remain everywhere he touched. His smell will be on my sheets. It will haunt me.
Xavier’s strong arms come up behind me and gather me in them. “You fixing me breakfast?” His voice makes me smile and gives my heart a little thump. This is the way I want to wake up every morning.
“Nothing fancy—cereal and coffee. I called room service, but it takes forever. I figured this will help ‘til that comes.”
“Beats starving.”
“What time do you leave?” I take in his warmth, waiting for him to answer before breaking apart. I never asked last night since I didn’t want to think about it.
“Have to be at the airport at seven.”
I grin, placing his cup in front of him. “Good, then we have most of the day left. I don’t have to be at hair and makeup ‘til six. So you are stuck with me, my dear.”
“Your bed needs some attention. And we never got to the wall in the bathroom.”
I wiggle my brows. “Oh, we didn’t, did we? I do think my bed had plenty of action last night and this morning.”
Xavier’s phone rings in the background. “It sure did. But hold onto that thought for two seconds. I just want to make sure it’s not Charlie.”
Picking up my coffee cup, the steam still rising, I stop dead in my tracks when I hear X’s voice bouncing off the walls. I slowly walk closer to him but stop when he throws his phone against the wall, then he turns to face me. His face is red with rage. “Did you tell Charlie she could punch someone?” Xavier emphasizes each word in his question.
I step back, caught off guard at his question. “No, I–she…needs to be true to herself.”
He nods, but nothing in his composure shows he understands what I told her. His expression is completely blank, unreadable.
I inch closer and become worried that with one wrong move, he’ll vanish again. “Charlie promised me she would talk to you about what was going on at school.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me?”
Another inch nearer, but he matches it with one step back.
“It happened right before I left, and we haven’t really talked since then. And she said she would talk to you. I thought she would have.”
“It would have been really nice to know what was said. She never said shit to me about this idiot. Once again, you decided not to tell me, and Charlie just got suspended for being in a fight. A fight I could have prevented had I fucking known. And you know what she told the principal right after it happened, Naomi?”
I don’t answer, because nothing I say will help. Xavier will see and hear what he wants when he’s like this.
“Since you won’t guess, I’ll tell you what she said, and I fucking quote, ‘My father’s girlfriend said I should just punch her in the face.’”
“No, but—”
Holding up his hand, he cuts me off. “The same principal on Zoey’s witness list for custody of my daughter. My damn daughter who means everything to me. The one that is not yours. You know what that means? You goddamn tell me what you two fucking talk about. Do you fucking get that?”
“I’m sorry.”
Again, he cuts me off. “Let me finish. You didn’t tell me about her date she had planned—I could understand it and ignore that. But this…this caused major problems. Ramifications that might mean I could lose her. You did that. Fuck, Naomi.” X grips his hair. “The girl I love did that shit. To me. Fuck.”
“X, I didn’t mean it. I thought…”
His eyes pop wide open, proving I said the wrong thing. “So you did say to punch someone in the face?”
“I may have joked about doing it.”
X runs his hands over his face. “You joked about it? Jesus Christ, Naomi. You don’t get it, do you? She’s not your friend. She’s a girl who needs guidance, not someone you can joke with. Charlie is twelve. That’s an age you can’t just say something like that without ramifications.”
“I fucked up, X. I’ll make it right. Just let me talk to whoever about it, and I’ll smooth it all over. I’ll tell anyone that will listen this is my fault.”
“No, I fucked up. I shouldn’t have had someone that has never had kids around mine if they didn’t know how to act.”
“Whoa. Don’t go that deep. It was a mistake.” A simple mistake that I never would have thought would happen.
“A mistake that could cost me custody of my child. So fuck you. I’m going to go that deep. You’re not a fucking parent. You don’t understand. Wouldn’t understand. And I pray if you are going to act that immature, you never have your own child, because you would fuck that kid up, too.”
His cold voice sliced my soul open like he was glass.
His words slapped me.
Knocked me down.
And he couldn’t care less. Part of me thinks he’s overacting. But when it comes to Charlie, maybe I should have overthought things rather than under-thought them. He’s right. Zoey will use this and everything else to fight him.
“I have to get out of this fucking place and do damage control with this mess you made.”
“Can we talk about this when I get back?” My question comes out meek and shaky.
“No. I’m sorry, Naomi, but this between us is over. Charlie has to come first.” Resentment floods his words.
With his decision floating around the room, I swallow a heavy gulp of air, hoping it will help the burn threatening to take over my heart. “Okay.”
Xavier walks out of the hotel living room. I want to run after him, beg him to come to his senses. But the final words of never having my own child hits my core. The words I overheard him saying. Why would he want to have a child with me when he doesn’t even want to marry me?
Pride forgotten, I curl into a ball on the sofa and with tears staining my face, the beat of my heart like a tick of a watch as I wait…wait for him to leave me.
This time for good. This time with closure.
This time with a goodbye.
And I follow him with my eyes, his heavy footsteps echo, and with a weight on my heart, I watch him walk out the door without a single glance over his shoulder.
The door to the suite busts open. I called out sick to the second day of the show. I never call
in sick, never needed to. But if a crushed heart isn’t sick, I don’t know what is.
Tara swarms around me before placing an icy cold hand to my forehead. “God, it smells in here.”
“Thanks.”
“What’s wrong? You don’t feel hot, and by the sight of the little empty bottles around, you aren’t really sick.”
“He left.” I take a guzzle of the bottle, the burn of the liquor a welcome feeling.
“Who?”
“X. He left me.” It comes out slurred.
“He was here?”
“Yep.” I say it like I regretted he came, maybe I did. No, no maybes. He shouldn’t have come. I was good before. Missed him yes, but I could have forged on. But now…now I’m the drunk queen hosting a pity party for one.
Tara bends down, the tears falling from my face being replaced with new ones.
“Tell me what happened?”
I do. I pour my heart to her, everything. From the call I heard before to all that led up to this morning. And no amount of alcohol could help the regret—bitter regret for my actions that tugged at my brain.
“I’m not saying what you did was the smartest thing, but he overacted—and from what you told me, he does that all the time. When the circumstances are right, I think he’ll come around, though.”
“No, he won’t.”
Tara doesn’t understand—his face was stone cold, his words were the cement. I have to face the facts. He was done, and I was left with heartache. But it's more. Feels worse. I didn’t just lose Xavier this time around—no, I lost more.
Beyond that.
I lost my family. I didn’t want to say it—think it—but maybe we were never meant to be together.
I will take the fall.
Now that it’s all tumbling down.
I can’t answer that to myself.
As the night falls on the day, it’s a little darker, a little colder.
And empty.
Chapter 21
Naomi
Doctor’s offices are the worst. After the last year, I should be used to it. The smell of disinfectant burns my nose, and no matter how welcoming they try to make them appear, it doesn’t work. I detest them. I need them. But hate the place just the same. And today is even worse considering it’s nothing but waiting. Waiting for the final lab work to come back for me to get the okay signaling there are no long-term effects from the damage I did to myself.
Waiting.
Watching the clock turn on the wall.
The paper sheet beneath me rattles with each jitter of my legs and echo through the small room breaking the silence. Five minutes have passed between the last glance at my watch, and with each peek at the face of it, I grow more and more irritated. It doesn’t help having Tara sit right next to me rambling on about my schedule for the next two weeks. I want busy, not crazy, but busy, and I’m getting what I asked for.
Everything is about to change in my life.
I’m moving on.
Moving my life again.
Moving here. To Vegas. To start a new life off stage producing my own shows. With my own collateral. It’s time to crash into the world on my own two feet and no one else to help. If the last four weeks without one peep from X—or even a text from Charlie—told me anything, it would be to live life as though someone could take it away anytime. Because that’s just what X did. He ripped himself away from my future. Again. They were my family—a family I chose to become a part of, but was never invited to stay in. One that was taken away by something I never meant to transpire. And the burn of Charlie hurting me is strong inside.
Unfortunately, something did occur, and now I’m back to being a party of one. I’ve accepted it.
My next step is away from X and Charlie, and I’m going to make sure it’s one giant leap—roughly two thousand thirty-four miles.
The doctor knocks on the door but doesn’t wait for me to answer before he walks in. Doctor Remi is younger than I thought he’d be. When I was first referred to him, I expected a normal-type doctor—not one with a man bun. Every time he moves, tattoos peek out of his scrubs. I trusted him at the first spot of ink.
Too bad he has a ring on that finger, or I would set him up with Tara. They both seem to go a mile a minute.
“Hey, Naomi.” Doctor Remi comes in, an iPad glued to his hand before he sits on the stool in front of me.
Nothing on his face shows what is on that screen in front of him.
I swallow heavily before answering. “Hello.”
Doctor Remi tilts his head to the side, studying me for a few moments. “How are you feeling? Tired?” He glances to Tara then back at me.
“I’m a little worn down, but I’m making sure I get plenty of sleep, and Tara over there makes sure I don’t have too much on my plate.”
As much as I wish I could do more to take my mind off a certain person, I know that isn’t the right thing for me in the long run. This time, I know that.
He simply nods, exhales, and takes a long glance at his tablet before speaking. “So I got the results from your tests back.” He pauses, scrunching up his mouth, and his arm flexes naturally before he continues. “I have something to tell you.” Something passes in his voice that sends my mind into overdrive.
Oh, God. I’m dying. My throat tightens and my heart beats so hard I can hear it in my ears. This is it. The damage I did is done. My heart is fucked, and all the doctors I’ve seen didn’t know what they were talking about.
I’m a dead person.
“Naomi, you’re pregnant.”
My heart stops.
My mouth opens.
My ears ring.
Pregnant.
“What? Get out. Naomi isn’t pregnant.” Tara’s voice clears my head.
She’s right.
I can’t be.
Not at all.
“No, I assure you, you are. The HCG count in your bloodwork indicates you’re roughly four weeks along.”
Four Weeks. The very last time I was with X. Jesus. This can’t be happening.
The last thing Xavier had said to me before he left, was I would be a useless mother if I had my own child. His words echo in my mind as I try to process what I’ve just been told.
This is possibly worse than needing a new heart. If he could see me now, I wonder if he would want to change his words.
Probably not.
Dear Lord. I’m sweating. The temperature in the room growing hotter each second I sit here.
Pregnant.
Baby…in my belly.
Growing. And it’s Xavier’s. One he doesn’t want. Half of his DNA. Half him. All of what’s left of him.
“I have some OBGYNs’ numbers for you. I’d like you to make an appointment as soon as you can. Everything with your bloodwork came back normal, but due to your medical history, they may want to see you sooner rather than later. But other than that, you’re in the clear. And congratulations.” He stands from the stool and offers a small smile before leaving. He dropped a bomb and left.
My eyes are glued to the white wall, the poster for flu vaccinations staring back at me. That’s normal. A shot for the flu, but I’m not sure I can even get one now. I have no clue if pregnant women can get vaccines. No fucking clue.
Doctor Remi talked in weeks—I hate that. The way pregnant people say things in weeks, how parents do ages of kids in months not years. God, that will be me. And I don’t have a clue why they do that.
I know nothing about growing a baby, much less mothering one.
Zilch.
I’m fucked.
This kid I’m incubating is fucked. I know nothing about being a parent because I didn’t have a child. Xavier is right. I’m going to scar my own child.
Tara grabs my hands, the chill of her palms jolt me into the here and now. Her face peers at mine. “Naomi, you will get through this. I’ll be there. This is a shock, yes. But I’ve never met a mom that regretted having a baby. Not one. You will do this and love it. You hear me?”
Holy shit, I have to tell Xavier.
Kill me now.
“I have to get to Atlanta.”
“Okay.”
“No, today. I can’t sit on this and not tell him. It’s not who I am.”
Tara lowers her eyes. “I know.”
“I’m scared.”
“I know.”
And she does. Xavier may not want this child, but every parent deserves a chance to be in their kid’s life.
Even one who will hate the mother.
“I’m pregnant.”
Five.
Four.
Three.
“What the fuck?”
Yep. Lock didn’t even make it to two before exploding in the living room. He had to know I was pregnant before I told other people. It should have been Xavier, but he didn’t answer the door when I showed up at his house earlier. I had my courage already built when I stepped through the house I grew up in. It had to be now before it faded away.
Pops grips the mantle, each vein in his neck showing through his skin. “Does…” He takes a deep breath before his gaze burns me. “Does Xavier know?”
I simply shake my head. He knows we had a fight, he knows we stopped seeing each other, but other than that, I haven’t shared anything else. I’ve been silent. Pops didn’t need the ammunition to the gun he already had aimed at Xavier.
“You have to tell him.”
I turn away, easier than facing him. “I will—I am. I went over there first; he just wasn’t home.”
“Good, he needs the chance to stand up before I beat the shit out of him for knocking up my daughter. Christ, what were you thinking?”
“I was on birth control, and I’m twenty-seven, not seventeen. It’s not like I planned this.”
“Whatever age you are, being a single parent is fucking hard.”
“I know.” I hang my head. I didn’t think of being the sole parent to someone.
Lock places a hand on my shoulder. “Hey you. I didn’t mean to make you sad, but I wish things were different. We can’t change them now, though. Why don’t you go dance at the studio for a little bit, unwind, and call him to set up a neutral space to tell him. You need that. His house won’t be that for you.”