Judging June (Downtown)

by West, T J

  I place my elbows on my desk and touch the palm of my hand with my forehead. “You can’t be serious,” I ask, shocked.

  “I’ve never been more serious in my life,” he answers honestly. . Holy shit! I hear him give out a loud exhale when he adds, “I want you and the baby living with me.”

  This is just crazy! Yes, I want him fussing over me, but I didn’t expect him to go this far! “Why? We’re not even together, Phillip,” I remind him.

  “Look, I’d feel better knowing—“

  “Knowing I was under your thumb, 24/7, so I can be under your control?” I scoff, “That is not going to happen.” Yikes, keep it cool June!

  He stresses when he says, “I want to take care of you and the baby.”

  “Listen,” I carefully say, “. . . . I am so grateful you want to be a part of the baby’s life. You have no idea how relieved I am, but there is no way I’m giving up the rest of my independence by living with you.” It truly is a miracle he changed his mind so quickly. I have no idea what I would have done if he never came around and got his head out of his ass and straightened out. Now that he has come around, he’s taking full on leadership. Oh man, I’m in trouble.

  “That’s not what I’m asking.” He sounds frustrated, like he’s bending over on his desk like I am. “Look, you can’t do this on your own; waking up in the middle of night, every night, by yourself. If we lived together I’d be there, helping.”

  Wow, he does have a point there. I never really thought about who was going to help me, or where to put a nursery. I only have a one bedroom apartment. I would need to move. Shit! Yet, I am not going to give in to him so easily. “My mother will be able to help.”

  “Full time?”

  Great, he got me again. “I don’t know—no she wouldn’t, but—“

  “There are no buts,” he scolds. “All I am asking is for you to think about the big picture . . . please?”

  I sit back in my swivel chair, circling around, thinking. I roll my eyes and mumble into the phone, “I’ll think about it.” I am so going to regret I ever said, think about it.

  “Good.” I can tell he’s smiling. Hell, I really like when he smiles. He’s got a great smile, beautiful teeth—he interrupts my visions when he asks, “Speaking of parents, have you told yours yet?”

  “No. Have you?”

  “No. When are you going to tell them?”

  God, he is so bossy! I love it. So I retort back, “When are you?”

  He chuckles, “Point taken.”

  Suddenly a wave of nausea hits my stomach. I stop swerving in my chair; this feeling has gotten way too familiar. I cover my mouth, yelling into the phone, “Oh, God, I’m gonna throw up!” I drop the phone onto my desk, run to my private bathroom and. . . . do my business.

  I am so freaking sick of getting. . . . sick. I really wish it would go away and allow my life to go back to normal. Normal? Very funny. My life is never going to go back to normal. After I brushed my teeth, drank a bottle of water I sat back down at my desk and proceeded with my work. Work. I tried to work, but didn’t have enough energy to dig myself back in.

  Almost an hour of staring at my computer, doing absolutely nothing, I hear my new secretary yell, “Mr. Caffrey! You cannot go in there!” What the hell? Phillip comes barging into my office.

  I jump out of my seat, startled. “Phillip!”

  Looking flustered and embarrassed, my secretary apologizes, “I’m sorry, June—“

  I put my hand up. “It’s fine, Monica,” I say to her. Once she leaves, I cross my arms and scowl at Phillip. “You can’t just come barging in here, Phillip!”

  He comes around my desk; his eyes are wild, determined . . . gorgeous. “You’re going home . . . now,” he orders.

  I laugh, “Right.”

  “You just threw up while we were on the phone!”

  Oh man, he looks mad!

  “And it’s going to happen again. I can’t go home. I have too much to do.” I sit my butt back in the chair and pretend I am very busy. Yet, Phillip is right—I really should go home, but I am not going to actually tell him that. Remember? I’m playing hard to get.

  “Let the staff take care of things,” he suggests.

  “Phillip, I am head of this company, I can’t just up and leave right now.”

  He leans down toward my face, placing one hand on the back of my chair and the other on my desk. I feel caged in; my heart starts to accelerate faster. What he does to me. . . . oh, my God. “You look exhausted and need your rest. Up. Now,” he demands.

  “I. Can’t!” I shout at him.

  He gives me a half sided smirk and lowers his voice. “You are not going to argue with me. Get up.”

  I lift my chin at him and retort back, “No.”

  “Fine, if you’re going to behave that way.”

  Before I know it I am being lifted out of my chair; Phillip slumps me over his wide shoulder, grabs my bag and immediately hauls me out of my office. “Put me down, Phillip!” I slap his back.

  “Nope,” he grunts. “It’s what you get for not listening.” No matter what, he won’t let me down. I want to giggle because we must look ridiculous as we head past Monica’s desk. “Monica, make sure you let the staff know June is going home for the rest of the day,” he orders her in a very stern manner; authoritative. Why I am so turned on by his tone, I don’t know.

  I’m held over his shoulder like a cave woman for goodness sakes! Yet, I really am enjoying this domineering side of him. “Monica, put my calls through to my cell!” I yell out, pointing.

  “She will do no such thing,” he yells back, slapping my ass. Oh my.

  If only I can see the look on Monica’s face, she must be in a state of shock.

  I pound on Phillip’s back, demanding he put me back down. He doesn’t listen; I continue to rant at him. “You controlling freak, you!” I hear him chuckling—smartass.

  After ordering me to get in my pj’s and putting my feet up, Phillip makes me dinner. I cringe at the thought of eating anything. Not even chicken broth. “I cannot eat that! Everything looks horrible to me.”

  He plants himself next to me on the edge of the sofa. “June, it’s only broth. You need to have something in your stomach. Now eat.” He holds out a spoon of broth wanting to feed me like a baby. Damn, where did this guy come from? Who feeds their baby-mama chicken broth? No matter how disgusting the broth looks right now, I take a sip anyways. “Not bad, right?” Phillip smiles; proudly—like he accomplished something big.

  I don’t say anything as he spoons me another taste. It actually does taste good, my stomach doesn’t hate it. “Thanks,” I mumble.

  He dramatically gasps, and puts his finger behind his ear. “Say that again? I’m not sure I heard you.”

  I laugh, “I said, thanks! Jerk!” I push his arm away, almost making him spill the broth.

  He laughs along with me. “Good girl. Oh, and you’re welcome.”

  His laugh is contagious. How he can make a girl cream her panties in seconds with that deep, hearty laugh. I am quite surprised I finished the broth. Not once did I go running to the bathroom.

  September is hot and muggy. Thank God I have air; it clicked on the minute I decided to go lay down. I am drained and desperately in need of sleep. I walk toward my bedroom. I turn around to tell Phillip goodnight when he starts to take off his shirt. Oh hell! Why oh why are you taking off your shirt? Those abs . . . I am drooling. I stumble upon my words when I ask, “Y . . . yo. .you’re staying the night?” I cross my arms over my chest so I can cover my hardened nipples.

  He looks me up and down as if he wants me as much as I want him. Is it possible he’s finally looking beyond my tattoos? His eyes snap back to mine and he smirks. “Don’t worry, I won’t climb into bed and do naughty things to you.” He bites his lip, making me want to bite that lip myself. “Unless you want me to?” He stands next to the sofa, hands on his hips, waiting for my answer.

  Goodness me. Yes. Yes, please do naughty
things to me. “I. . . .”

  He chuckles when I can’t get anything out. “You have your first appointment tomorrow and I want to make sure you get there on time.”

  My face must be as red as a tomato. Of course it’s the reason why he’s staying. Stupid me. He doesn’t have a thing for me, I was just seeing things. “Right . . . uh, let me get some blankets for you,” I mumble.

  Once I get the blankets, we say our goodnights. I close my door and hear him turning on the TV. How I wish I could go lay with him, cuddle in his arms and watch a movie, sports, infomercials, anything—I don’t care. I just want to lay with him and fall asleep. I climb into bed, prop myself up against the headboard and call Faith instead. I tell her about the last couple of days and she’s just as surprised as me.

  “I never knew he was so controlling. Wow!”

  Do I dare tell her this? “I kind of like it,” I blurt out.

  “June,” she groans. Yeah, not a good idea to tell her I have more than the hots for Phillip. “Don’t. Don’t go down that path. You’re only going to get yourself hurt.” When I don’t respond she continues, pleading with me. “June-bug, promise me you won’t fall for him. He’s only doing this because you’re going to have his baby.”

  I feel defeated, hopeless. “Yeah, I know. It’s just. . . . it feels nice.” I slide down until my head rests on my pillow.

  “I know it does,” Faith says. She yawns, which makes me yawn. “I have to get some sleep. I love you, honey. Call me tomorrow, after your appointment.”

  “Yeah, I will.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?” She asks, concerned.

  “I’m sure. Phillip will be there. I’ll be fine.” I’m actually scared to death, but I know I’ll be okay. “Besides, you’re getting your tattoo tomorrow, right?

  “Yep.”

  She’s finally doing it. She’s finally going through with getting her first tattoo and wants to surprise Lucky with it while he’s on tour. He has no idea she’s making plans on coming out. She misses him so much already, I can hear it in her voice. Those two rock together and I’m really happy for them. .

  “It’s going to rock, babe.”

  “I hope so. Goodnight, and good luck tomorrow, June-bug. I love you.”

  “Thanks. Love you too. Night.”

  I try my hardest to go to sleep. I’m exhausted, but I cannot, for the life of me, get myself to settle down. How can I when the hottest man ever existed is sleeping, bare chested, out on my sofa? I slip out of bed and wander over to my door. I slowly open it and peek my head out to get a glance at him, only to find him staring right back in my direction. I almost jump out of my skin because I didn’t think he would still be awake. My hand is still on the door when he gets up from the sofa and comes toward my way. My breathing escalates as soon as he appears right before me. The look in his eyes are intense; his once olive green tone has changed to a dark forest green in seconds. Holy hell, but I think he’s going to kiss me. He takes the sides of my face into his palms and intently looks at me. His furrowed brows make him look confused, like he doesn’t understand why he’s cupping my face and why he may want me. This automatically gives me doubt in my heart. I don’t want him confused. I want him to look at me with certainty, to take hold of me and fuck me senseless. I close my eyes and when I open them up a tear slips out from the corner of one, dripping down toward his thumb. His lips come apart as if he’s going to say something. I don’t give him that chance. I ungrip his hands from my face and turn away, closing my door. I breathe heavily up against my door with my hand on the handle. I have the urge to go back out and to see where our almost kiss will lead us. I don’t though. I don’t want him regretting being with me again. He can jack himself off if he needs to. My body is no longer available.

  FUCK ME, WHY DIDN’T I just kiss her last night? Hauling her onto my shoulder, feeding her broth and making her laugh had sent a fucking twitch to my dick. The minute she stepped into her tiny pajama shorts and tiny tank top all thoughts of not being attracted to her went out the window. I am totally and completely infatuated with June. The more I see her the more I want her, and the more I want her the more I love her fucking body art. I no doubt have lost my shit. After June had gone to bed I couldn’t shut my eyes. I thought by turning on the TV I’d be able to doze off, yet that body of hers was driving me insane. I wanted to sneak inside her bed and actually do naughty things to her like I had joked about. Instead, she came sneaking out of her bedroom door, peeking in on me. Here was my chance. I quickly got up and took her face into my hands. Her blue eyes were unbelievably stunning in the dark; like ice. I could feel her heart beating erratically against mine, her breathing becoming shallow with each breath. I wanted to kiss her, I did, but I chickened out, and she knew it. The moment she shut her eyes I should have taken her lips—I should have goddammit! I don’t know what the hell was wrong with me, I’m so fucking confused! As soon as she opened her eyes a tear dripped down. She saw the confused look in my eyes, backed away from my touch and shut the door in my face. I was left standing like a complete moron.

  I wake up nervous about this morning. We have our first appointment with the OB GYN. I have no clue what to expect, except the fact that I’ll be seeing June get felt up by some doctor. Better be a woman doctor. I hear the shower turn on, she’s up too. I wonder how she’s feeling this morning, if she’s just as nervous as I am? What I would really like to do is go in that shower with her and relish her body and forget about how nervous I am. I want to—Fuck—how the hell did I get myself in this position? How did my attraction toward her turn a 180 in just a matter of a week?

  After I finish folding up the blankets on the couch, I make a pot of coffee—decaf. I drink my cup and go through my texts on my phone. I have a shitload of call backs I have to make, but today’s appointment is way too important. Although I’ve never ignored my clients before they are just going to have to wait. I text my assistant letting her know my schedule and that I’ll be in tomorrow. I sit back against the sofa cushion, cover my eyes with my arm, spread my legs apart, and hold my coffee. A clearing of a throat makes me jolt. It’s June. “Uh . . . the shower is all yours.” She’s wearing a tiny tank top with musical notes all over it and little black skirt. Shit, she looks amazing.

  I immediately put my coffee on the table in front of me and stand up. “How are you feeling this morning?” I ask.

  “Good,” she replies with a faint of a smile. “Better than I have felt in awhile.” She walks into her kitchen and grabs a mug. She fills it with coffee and scrunches her nose as she takes a sip. I know she wants regular coffee, but the controlling side of me won’t allow her.

  “That’s good.” The silence between us is noticeable; I hesitate to talk about what a dick I was to her last night. “Can we -”

  She cuts me off, “Go take a shower,” and leans her stomach up against the kitchen counter, holding her coffee. She looks at me with pleading eyes. “Please,” she firmly adds.

  I nod my head and mutter, “Right.” I grab my overnight bag and take a shower.

  After my shower I come back in the livingroom and overhear June saying goodbye to someone on the phone. “See you later on. Love you too. Bye.”

  I swipe a hand through my wet hair and finish tucking my shirt in my pants. June is at the kitchen table, scrolling through her phone. I notice a dirty dish in the sink, so I ask her gently, “Were you able to eat anything?”

  She nods her head, but doesn’t even glance in my direction. “I had oatmeal,” she mutters. She continues to give me the silent treatment and won’t give me the chance to explain how I was feeling last night. She scoots out of the chair and gathers her purse. “We better get going, “ she suggests quietly. Walking passed me I get whiff of her perfume. It sends me over the edge, and damn, she smells so good. I control the urge to plaster her body up against her front door and kiss the hell out of her. Instead, I adjust the front of my pants and let her lead the way to my car.


  While sitting in the waiting room, watching June fill out some health forms, I can’t stop bouncing my knee; all around us are pregnant women from various stages of their pregnancy. They look so calm reading their magazines, or scrolling through their phones, it’s beginning to aggravate me. Why can’t I calm the fuck down? Even June looks calm. Finally after thirty minutes of aggravation, we are called back. We go in a tiny patient room where the nurse tells June to use the restroom—something about how she has to pee in a cup every appointment. I pretty much block everything out that is being said, I just want the damn doctor to show up already. When June enters back into the room she makes me turn around so she can strip from the waist down in order for the doctor to do an examination. I do as I’m told and face the other direction. God this room is fucking small—hurry the hell up, doc! June and I don’t say one word to one another. This has to be the most awkward position we both have ever been in. Seeing her on that cold, hard and bizarre thing they call a bed must be uncomfortable for her; and what the hell are those sock covered metal sticks at the end of the bed? I have never seen anything like it.

  My heart almost jumps out of my chest when there is a knock on the door, and a small gray haired woman appears. Thank God it’s a woman doctor.

  As the doctor gets all our information and talks to us like we’re a married couple, she gets right down to business—right down into June’s business, that is. I cringe and make myself occupied by looking at my phone. I really don’t want to be watching June—oh, so that’s what those sock things are for, to put your feet up in. Humph, very interesting, they’re called stirrups. Once the doctor is done she tells us that June is around seven weeks along. Seven weeks, wow. Hard to imagine that there is a tiny human being inside June’s flattened stomach—our tiny human being. Damn, this just keeps getting more surreal by the minute. The next part of the examination is an ultrasound. While June is getting her clothes back on I wait outside the room. A pregnant woman wobbles by me and smiles in my direction. I give her a nod and watch her leave. Damn, her belly is enormous, she can barely walk! Is June going to get that big? Is she going to be able to walk without tripping every second? I mean, with a belly that big how can you see where your feet are, much less a crack in the sidewalk?