The Roommate's Baby

by Penny Wylder

  "This is your fault," Chris says, eyes narrowed.

  "What is?" Rina and I exchange another sideways glance.

  Then Lacy breaks into laughter and grabs Chris's hand. "This, dummies. Your stupid setup."

  "Yep. All your fault. We're blaming you for us getting in way over our heads," he adds.

  Lacy smirks and leans up to kiss his cheek. He grins at her, then pulls her into a long kiss, and Rina and I can't help but exchange relieved smiles. "All I wanted was a good fuck," Lacy protests when they break apart.

  "Well, I guess you can't help when Cupid strikes," I say.

  "Still. Just wanted to let you know how your evil plan worked out," Chris adds. Then his gaze darts between us, and I can practically see the calculations whirring in his head. "Your turn’s next. We have to return the favor."

  "Definitely," Lacy adds, and when she meets my gaze, her eyelashes flutter almost imperceptibly. "I can think of a girl who I think would be perfect for you, Cannon, if only you'd be willing to actually take a leap and put yourself out there."

  I grit my teeth, hearing the challenge in her words. "Well, that can be harder than you think, Lacy..."

  "Don't I know it," Chris interrupts. "But hell, if I can do it, of all people, dude, you ought to be able to."

  "Anyway, we just wanted to update you both." Lacy winks at Rina.

  Rina grins. "Glad to be a thorn in your side as always. Anytime you need more bad advice or help getting in over your head, you know where to find me."

  We slip out of the kitchen in order to give them some space, but halfway back toward our desks, Rina pauses, glances around us, and lowers her voice, pitching it so only I'll hear.

  "Was that... kind of weird?" she asks, glancing over her shoulder toward the break room door. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm super glad they're going for it and that it's maybe working out, but... do you think they were suggesting that we're...?"

  "I think they suspect," I admit with a sigh. "Chris has asked me more than a few prying questions lately."

  Rina groans softly. "Lacy too. I just assumed it was her womanly intuition, but if even Chris has noticed..."

  "This is getting harder to keep quiet," I say. Then I chomp on the inside of my cheek. Dammit, Cannon. But it's the truth. "People are asking questions. Wondering about it. Sooner or later, if we keep going, this is going to blow wide open."

  Rina lifts her chin, her eyes suddenly going hard and defiant. "I can keep to my side of the bargain," she whispers, her voice low and rushed. "I can maintain this NSA thing. Don't you trust me?"

  For a long, painful moment, I hold her gaze. Watch the hardness in her eyes, the defiant set of her jaw. "Of course I trust you, Rina," I whisper, and some of the hardness melts from her eyes. Settles into something softer, something more distant and almost wistful. "That's the problem," I continue, and she winces, her brows contracting. But I can't hold it in anymore, I can't contain it. If this is going to spill out anyway, then fuck it, we might as well have this conversation before someone like Lacy or Chris force it out of us at an inopportune moment.

  "I don't understand," she murmurs.

  "I trust you too much, Rina. I feel more than I should, I—"

  Just then, a gaggle of our coworkers passes, chatting loudly. Spencer, my boss, is among them. He spots me and swings to a halt. "Cannon! Just the man I was looking for. Listen, thanks for finally sending over those reports," he says, and I don't miss the finally in his tone. "About the last one, the numbers look a little off for April. I was thinking we could sit down and go over that in a couple minutes."

  "Of course," I reply. I plaster a smile onto my face, act normal until the crowd passes. Then I shoot Rina a sideways look. She's still planted beside me, waiting patiently.

  But I can't do this to her here. I can't talk about this in the office, in the one place where she asked me to maintain this secret the most. We've waited this long. We can wait a few more hours. "Tonight," I say, my voice pitched lower than ever. "We need to talk. After work."

  She nods. "I agree." But there's something about her tone when she says that, something about the finality of it, that sets me on edge.

  Doesn't matter. I've made up my mind. I can't contain this anymore. Tonight, I'm finally going to tell her how I really feel.

  15

  Rina

  Cannon is still in the office when I sneak out to head home. I want to beat him there, because I feel like I need time. Time to steel myself for what's about to happen.

  I knew this would happen eventually. It was inevitable. We were getting so close over the last couple of weeks, and then the last few times we've had sex, now that I'm ovulating, it feels... different. More intense. Too intense. I told myself that I knew Cannon would want to break it off. He'd sense how I was feeling, know that I'd broken our NSA plan.

  But knowing something intellectually is one thing. Hearing him say “we need to talk” in that tone, right after Chris and Lacy's ill-advised ambush, was quite another. It turned my insides into knots, and made me feel sick for the rest of the afternoon.

  It's better this way, I tell my reflection in the mirror. I'll get over this eventually. Time heals all wounds. I just have to get through tonight, then it will all be okay.

  The hard part, of course, is actually getting through the next few hours. I wipe my cheeks again, check my eyes. They're a little red around the edges, but not puffy. I managed not to cry, despite the hormones surging through my body, urging me to break down. I'm not going to do that, not yet. I'm going to stay strong through this conversation. And later tonight, after it's all said and done, after Cannon inevitably tells me we can't keep doing this anymore, then, and only then, will I let myself cry. Alone, locked in the bathroom, the way I should have the day I came home from the clinic in a panic.

  If I'd done that, maybe none of this would have ever happened. Maybe Cannon would never have found out why I was upset, maybe I never would have cottoned onto this harebrained idea of asking him to help me. Maybe I'd still be living here blissfully unaware of how fucking perfect my roommate would be—in bed, on date nights, everywhere. Maybe I could have just gone on in ignorance of how compatible me and Cannon are for the rest of my life.

  And yet.

  Despite everything. Despite how I already sense tonight will end things... I don't regret any of it. I don't regret getting to know this hidden side of Cannon. I don't regret our time together, even if it has to come to an end. It was worth it to realize that I could feel this way about somebody. That I'm capable of more than just casual flings or hookups. I could actually see myself falling in love with somebody. With Cannon. Even if he doesn't reciprocate those feelings, I can't bring myself to wish I never discovered them.

  The elevator dings, the up button illuminating. My nerves jangle right along with it, simultaneously making me feel nauseous with anticipation and thrilled with excitement at the prospect of seeing him. I guess my body hasn't quite gotten the memo that my brain has, about what tonight will mean for us. My stupid heart still thinks that things will go the same as always—that he'll sweep in here and kiss me, lift me off my feet and carry me into the bedroom to fuck me senseless.

  I step into the living room just as the elevator doors open to reveal Cannon, in the same suit he wore to work today, now slightly rumpled around the collar from a long day of tugging at it in the way that he always does, yanking on the collar when he's distracted by some work problem he's thinking through in his head. I wonder what's been distracting him today.

  Probably trying to figure out the most diplomatic way to break up with me.

  Ha. Break up? He can't break up with me; we haven't even been dating. It hits me all over again how ridiculous this whole thing is, just as Cannon strides across the apartment toward me.

  I don't know what I expected, but it's not this. It's not for him to grab me by both arms and pull me toward him. Our lips collide, and he's kissing me with an urgent hunger that I've never seen from him before. The
kiss takes my breath away, sends my stomach flying around my ears, as though I've just gone over the top of a particularly steep roller coaster. When we break apart, we're both breathless, eyes glazed.

  "I'm sorry," Cannon starts in right away, and I brace myself for it. Here it comes. "Rina, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that. I just... I've been thinking all day—for the last few days, weeks, really, and I..." He shakes his head, grimaces.

  I want to embrace him, tell him it's all right. I've never seen him look this upset, this agitated. But I hold myself back, because I know that won't help right now. I know what he has to say.

  "I just... I can't do this anymore," he breathes. He opens his mouth to say more, to carry on, but I lift a finger to his lips and stop him right there.

  "It's okay, Cannon." My heart is breaking; it feels like my chest is going to explode, and my nerves are going to set me on fire from the inside out. But I owe him this much. This was my mistake, not his. "Cannon, I understand why you can't do this anymore. I'm sorry, I know it was too much to ask. The sex, the baby, and now I'm sure you've realized what happened, that I can't do this stupid NSA thing, because I started to feel for you, so I get it. We're done, don't worry."

  But as I speed through that speech, the one I carefully rehearsed all day, so that I'd be able to say it to his face without breaking down in tears, Cannon's expression shifts.

  His eyebrows shoot up, his lips parts, and by the time I finish, he's staring at me like I'm an alien who just spouted a second head. "What are you talking about, Rina?" he blurts.

  My brows contract. "You said you don't want to do this anymore. I'm just saying that I understand..."

  "No, Rina, no. I can't do this, meaning this bullshit No Strings Attached crap—I can't do that, because I don't want that anymore. Rina..." He reaches for my hands. Cups them gently, then runs his hands up my arms to grip my shoulders, holding me upright. Which is a good thing, because I've started to sway in place, thrown by this roller coaster of emotions. "I want you," he says.

  Now it's my turn to look comically surprised, I'm sure. "What?" I manage.

  But Cannon is stepping closer, running a hand through my hair, his eyes fixed on mine, and there's a sea of depth in those eyes of his that I've never seen before—a depth of feeling I never could have seen coming. Looking into his eyes, I can feel my pulse race and my heart skip a beat. "I don't know exactly when it happened," he's saying. "I tried not to. I tried to stick to what we agreed. But I couldn't help it, Rina. Being with you... It's not like any other girl I've ever been with. I fell in love with you, Rina."

  "Cannon," I breathe.

  "I love you, Rina. It's more than just the sex—it's everything. The way you chase what you want, no matter the obstacles—like trying for a baby even when you have to do it like this. And the way you always beat me at darts, and the way you're so damn confident in bed, which by the way, is sexy as hell too." He tightens his grip on my arms. But I can't tear my gaze from his face. My eyes brim with tears, but not the kind of tears I expected I would be shedding tonight.

  Instead, they're happy tears. More than happy. Borderline blissful.

  "I love everything about you. I love making you smile, I love exchanging those secretive glances with you in the office. Hell, I even love the way you plotted to set up Chris and Lacy." He half-laughs. "You're so selfless, you always put your friends first, and me, and I just..." He grimaces a little bit, now. "I understand if you're angry. I broke the rules we agreed to."

  I burst into laughter, then unable to help myself. "Cannon, stop." I hold his eyes, smiling. "I broke them too. You're right. We're so goddamn compatible—and I didn't even see it, I had no idea, until we started doing this thing, and then I realized... Shit. I can't do No Strings Attached. I don't want that either. I love you, too. I want all the strings, dammit."

  With a grin, he pulls me forward into another long, slow kiss. This time, the desperation is gone, replaced by something softer, sweeter. I part my lips, let his tongue slip past mine to explore my mouth, and I wrap my arms around his neck, losing myself in this embrace.

  But then another thought occurs to me. I draw back slightly, just enough that we both sigh at parting. But I rest my forehead against his and force myself to hold his eye for another long moment. "Cannon, listen... Are you sure about this? Wait, hear me out," I add, when he inhales a breath to reply immediately. "Because there's a chance that you could have gotten me pregnant. After all, we've been trying, and this time, I'm right on cycle, so..." I shake my head a little, still holding his face to mine. "I mean, dating is one thing. But a baby? That's a whole other level of commitment. I understand if it's too much for you right now. I get if you want something simpler, with someone simpler."

  "Don't," he says. His finger brushes along my lips, tracing them. "Don't say another word, Rina. I told you—I know what I want now. It took me time to see it, and even longer to understand what it was I was feeling, but I want you. I want you, baby and all." He slides his hand down my chest, down the center of my breasts, until his fingertip comes to rest on my stomach. He flattens his palm against my stomach, and I smile a little, leaning toward him.

  "Why didn't you say anything sooner?" I ask finally, tilting my head as I consider him.

  He half-laughs, shaking his head. "I didn't feel like I could tell you, because we'd agreed to that stupid NSA thing. I thought that was what you wanted. Just a sperm donor, nothing more, no emotions attached. I figured if I told you my feelings, you would be freaked out and want to back away from the whole thing. After all, it wasn't what we agreed on. And you kept asking me to keep things quiet at work, so I figured you were still on the same page."

  I can't help it. I laugh again, shaking my head in sync with him. "God, we're such idiots." I smile at him, sheepish. "I was doing the same thing. I didn't say anything, because I thought it would freak you out—you agreed to fuck me and impregnate me, not get into some... relationship with me. I figured if I told you, you'd want out as soon as possible, and I couldn't imagine going on without you—"

  "Neither can I, Rina. I can't picture my life without you in it. Hell." He gestures around us, and we both take in our apartment for a second. Our apartment that, for years now, has felt like a home to both of us. I guess I just never realized why it felt so homey. I never knew that it was Cannon and his friendship that kept me going through so much crap over the years. "You're already such a huge part of my life. It only makes sense that we fit so well together."

  "Who knew we'd been staring at the right person all along, every day?" I laugh, and he grins, cupping my cheek in one hand to pull me into a deep kiss.

  "You know," he murmurs against my mouth. "We were doing the exact same thing as Chris and Lacy."

  I snort and rest my forehead against his shoulder. "God. We totally were. Both of us feeling for one another but neither one being willing to admit it first, because we thought the other didn't want the same thing..."

  He grins and tilts my chin up toward his. "I'm glad we finally got over ourselves," he whispers. "Because this... This feels much better now, knowing we're both on the same page."

  This time, the kiss shifts. His hands run down my sides to my top, and I mirror him, running my hands along the hem of the work shirt he's wearing. Before long, we're peeling the clothes off one another, our hands hungry, moving over every inch of each other's bodies. I tilt my head to grant him better access, and he takes it, his tongue twining with mine as his hands wrestle my shirt off, then my skirt. He tugs my bra down my arms and tosses it aside, and from the corner of my eye, I see it land on the lampshade on the far side of the room. It reminds me all over again of the bra I found discarded by one of his one-night stands, and I have to smile at the way everything has come full circle. Back then, I never would have imagined hooking up with Cannon. I figured he only ever was the way he was with those girls in relationships—he never was going to want more.

  Who knew he would? And who knew he'd want it with me, the same
way I do with him?

  We don't make it to the bedroom. By the time I'm unzipping his pants and pushing them down his legs, Cannon has that impatient, hungry expression in his eye. He sweeps me off my feet, swings me straight onto the couch, where he falls on top of me, his perfectly chiseled abs on perfect display as he leans back for a moment and hooks both thumbs through my panties. He eases them off me, and I arch my hips up to let him pull them the rest of the way off.

  But once he tosses them aside, he keeps my hips in the air. Spreads my legs and kneels between them, leaning down to lick and bite and nibble his way up my inner thighs. I gasp when he reaches the sensitive skin right where my leg meets my hip bone, but he just bites down harder, hard enough to leave a mark, and to make me gasp and squirm.

  But I love it. I love knowing that I'll wake up tomorrow morning with his marks on my skin, marks of how much he wants me.

  I reach for his shoulders, trace my hands over his pecs, his abs. I dig my nails in a little, just hard enough that I'll leave marks of my own, and my grin widens when he groans in appreciation, eyes glazing over with desire. Then, before I can react, he flips my legs over his shoulders. Balances me in front of him, my hips around his shoulders and my back arched up to meet him. At this angle, my pussy is positioned directly in front of his mouth, and he takes full advantage of that fact. He licks each of my lips, from the outside in, tonguing me so my whole pussy gets wetter than I already am from his touches.

  "God you taste so fucking good, Rina," he murmurs.

  Then he starts to slide the very tip of his tongue along my slit. He works his way from back to front, all the way up to my clit, which he presses on gently with that dexterous tongue of his for an instant before he goes back to licking between my lips. Finally, after what feels like a maddeningly long time, he pushes the tip of his tongue between my folds, into my pussy.