by Taryn Quinn
“Just met her and already love her. Marriage is next,” she proclaimed. “Marriage and babies, just you watch and see.”
I was not going down that road. First I had to win her back. Or at least talk to her and see if she hated me. Hate and love were supposedly flip sides of the same coin, so maybe I hadn’t been booted completely out of the arena.
“Yeah, well, don’t count your eggs yet, of the human or chicken variety,” I muttered, smiling despite myself at her delighted laugh. “I called because I need your help.”
“What can I do? Tell me.”
“Can you go check on her without letting on that you’re checking? She works at Pizza Uno on Franklin on weekends so she should be there tomorrow night if she isn’t tonight.”
“Sure, sure, I can do that. I love their pizza so it’s no hardship. I’ve been dieting for the past few months, so that’s probably why I haven’t seen her in there. I’ve been trying to limit splurges. Down twenty-two pounds so far,” she said proudly, and I felt like a jackass for not calling more often.
One more item for my self-improvement list. If I kept this up, I wouldn’t even recognize my own asshole face in the mirror anymore.
Maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.
“That’s great, Mom,” I said, meaning it. “I should do the same.”
“I could send you my diet plan—”
“Nah, I’d rather just hit it harder in the gym.”
“Really, it’s all about cutting out carbs. It’s not so difficult once you formulate the habit.”
What I was hoping when it came to not being a fuckhead regarding Maggie and relationships in general. I might suck now, but with repeated practice…
“You’ll go down to see her, right? Just make sure she’s okay. That’s all.”
“Sure. I’ll do that. I can get a slice of veggie. You know, I’ve missed that girl. So much. I should’ve contacted her before now. We see each other around town sometimes, but it’s so easy to let time get away from you. I can’t keep doing that anymore.”
“Me either,” I murmured. “Thank you. It means a lot to me.”
“No problem, sweetie. I’ll call you after I see her.”
“Thanks.” I ended the call and took the phone off speaker, then stared at the screen. Now that I’d opened the can, I wasn’t quite ready to close the lid.
Sending my mother to check up on Maggie wasn’t even close to enough. I needed to see her myself, in person, so we could talk. Openly and honestly. No holds barred.
What I needed was a plan. It wouldn’t be easy to get time off right now, but I had to try to make things right, whatever it took.
I wasn’t my father, and I was sick and tired of letting his past determine my future.
Before I could stop myself, I texted the number I’d done my best to forget these past two weeks. There was just one thing that mattered right now. Well, only two things. Soon enough I’d be saying those three words to Maggie too, God willing.
I’m sorry.
16
Maggie
I’m sorry.
Those two words replayed on a constant loop in my mind, alternating with five other, albeit more urgent ones.
Please no more throwing up.
The throwing up was a new thing. It had just started a few days ago. Before that I’d been nauseated for a week. It was either the slowest moving flu bug in the history of the world, my misery had a strange new physical component, or I was knocked up.
Considering the state of my life since December thirty-first, I was going with door number three.
I still held out hope I wasn’t toting around a tiny human. Small hope. The smell of tomato sauce making me want to hurl wasn’t an awesome sign, especially since I worked at a pizza shop.
The pizza shop I was currently throwing up in.
My life sucked. Hardcore.
Someone knocked on the door to the cramped one-person bathroom, and I covered my mouth with one hand while sticking my foot out to the side to brace it against the door. The stupid lock kept breaking. “Just a second, please,” I called between dry heaves.
At least they weren’t wet any longer.
The knock came again. “Hello?” A woman. Her voice was familiar but I couldn’t quite place it. “Is that you in there, Maggie?”
I was so shocked to be addressed by name that I stopped heaving long enough to listen more closely. Nice to know my baby wasn’t a complete ruiner. “Yes?”
“Maggie, it’s Mrs. McGuire. Can I come in?”
Sagging against the wall, I stared up at the ceiling. This could not be happening. It was just a bad dream. Had to be.
I hadn’t seen Mrs. McGuire in forever, probably not since last summer. We rarely got a chance to say much beyond hello, how are you as we rushed past each other. She hadn’t stopped in Pizza Uno the entire time I worked there. Now she had to use the bathroom at the exact same time I was puking from being preggo with her son’s baby.
Seriously, who had I pissed off in a past life? Maybe I needed an exorcism. What did one do to remove a curse?
I shut my eyes and prayed to pass out. The floor was beyond gross, but I wouldn’t know what was happening for those few blissful moments of unconsciousness.
“Maggie?” Mrs. McGuire repeated. “Are you all right? I’d like to speak with you, if that’s okay.”
Did she not get that I was in the bathroom for a reason? Probably one that required privacy? Kellan had a similar disregard for personal space. He’d marched right into the bathroom at the cabin and seen me naked as the day I was born, thereby inciting all kinds of inappropriate desire in me when I realized he found me attractive just as I was. Curvy some places, slight in others. A hodgepodge that definitely didn’t match Derek’s stripper.
Ah hell, who was I kidding? The inappropriate desire had stirred way before then. Probably right about the first time I’d looked into those dark chocolate eyes.
Chocolate sounded good. I was hungry now. Dammit.
Blowing out a breath, I flushed the toilet—twice—and went to the sink to wash my hands about forty-two times. I felt gross, inside and out. Not at all capable of talking to Kellan’s mom.
Not in this lifetime or any other.
“Just one second,” I called as she knocked one more time. I was probably worrying the poor woman.
God, did she know about me and Kellan? Had he told her about us?
Though that would require him acknowledging there was an us. I couldn’t deny that his message yesterday had made me hopeful for a good five minutes before I realized I was a dolt.
It was a realization I had often these days. The last time had been an hour ago when I pulled my hoodie over as much of my face as possible and stopped into Bailey Drugs to purchase three pregnancy tests. I would’ve driven to the next town over if I hadn’t been so desperate to find out and only had a short time before work to visit the store.
Of course, the new employee behind the counter just happened to be Derek’s second cousin twice removed, and he’d recognized me right away. His eyes had popped wide at the sight of the pregnancy tests too, but he hadn’t said anything.
So yeah, curse. It was truly the only explanation.
Reluctantly, I pulled open the door. And jumped back as Mrs. McGuire barreled inside and slammed it behind her. Then she frowned. “I heard retching.”
Thinking about curses would just be redundant at this point.
“Yes, I have a bit of a bug.” One with two arms and legs and an endless demand for sweet pickles.
Mrs. McGuire just stared.
I poured on the charm. “I’d hug you, but germs and all. It’s so wonderful to see you. Such a pleasure. How are you?”
“A bug, is it?” She crossed her arms over her chest, her sturdy mom purse sliding down her arm. “Now I understand why he wanted me to check on you. That rascal.”
“He who? What?” I grasped my spinning head. I had no idea if the dizziness was from nerves or another symptom deciding
to attack me while I was at my lowest. “You don’t mean—”
“Kellan. My son. Oh, I was so happy to hear about you two. Now go on, don’t feel like you two kids have to hide anything from me just because you aren’t married yet. How far along are you? He mentioned meeting on New Year’s, but did it happen that night?”
Before I could even process what she’d said, she launched herself at me and started rubbing my belly as if I was Santa with his big bowl of jelly.
I groaned and jerked back against the sink, holding up a hand to ward her off. “I don’t want to toss my cookies again. It’s better if I don’t move. Or you move any part of me.”
Then the rest of what she’d said kicked in. “Kellan told you about us?”
Just as I was about to say what exactly I thought about that, sense kicked in. Not to mention Mrs. McGuire had once been very important to me. I still cared about her.
Treading gently was the order of the day even if I was extremely seasick and her son was a giant dickhead.
She nodded vigorously. “Yes. He asked if I remembered you. I told him of course I do, and I would even if we didn’t see each other around town now and then. We were good friends once, weren’t we?”
The hope in her deep dark eyes, so much like her son’s, made my stomach lurch for a whole new reason. Her hair was a cloud of snow white instead of dark and crazy like Kellan’s, but glimpsing those eyes was like seeing a ghost.
One who had spooked me good enough to leave something of himself behind.
“Yes,” I said quietly. It was all I could manage.
“He’s worried about you, and he asked if I would check on you here. He was playing coy with me, but now I understand why.” The smile that wreathed her pretty face made me fumble for the sink behind me. I needed to hold on to something sturdy so I didn’t hit the ground. “What did he say when you told him about the baby?”
I shifted to face the dingy window above the sink and turned on the water to splash my hot cheeks. Dripping, I stared at myself. I didn’t have an answer.
How could I lie to her? How could I tell her the truth?
We’d had a crazy one-night hookup and hadn’t spoken for two weeks, then we’d hooked up again for another wild weekend of sex. And laughing and music and sitting out in the sun and falling in love.
At least I’d fallen. He must care for me a bit if he’d bothered to send his mother to check on me. Cold comfort, however, when he’d basically ripped out my heart and stomped on it. His out-of-the-blue text had only poured more gasoline on the wound.
Especially when I’d been half convinced his message had just been a prelude to requesting my presence at his home for more sex. I was like a booty call delivery service, and my box was the merchandise.
Wrapping paper is free.
Worst of all? I couldn’t help wanting said sex, even now. I blamed hormones. I blamed the curse. Hell, I probably would’ve blamed the planets or the tides if given half a chance.
Mrs. McGuire cleared her throat, obviously waiting for my reply.
God, I didn’t want to put his mother in the middle or force her to take sides. There was no side. I loved him because I was a dumbass romantic, and he cared about me enough to have his mother ensure my well-being and to send two-word messages to absolve his guilt. Possibly also enough to text to see if my pussy could make another roundtrip flight for the weekend.
The rest—yeah, I wasn’t dealing with that just yet. Not until I’d had a chance to take those three tests and verify exactly how screwed I was.
Swallowing hard, I turned to face her. “I don’t know if I’m pregnant,” I said softly, though that wasn’t at all what I’d intended to say. “I may just have a bug. I’ve prayed and prayed for exactly that.”
It wasn’t easy to deal with the pain and confusion that scrolled across her face. “But why? If Kellan loves you and I’m assuming you love him—”
“Wait. Why would you think Kellan loves me? Just because he asked you to come here?”
A knock sounded on the door and I shot the intruder a cross glance they couldn’t see. “Just a minute, please!”
Distinct muttering sounded through the wood. “Not a conference room, you know.”
I flipped the closed door the middle finger and glanced back at Kellan’s mother, who had lapsed into silence. Whether it was because of what I’d said or my crude display or both, I didn’t know. I had bigger fish to fry.
Ugh. No food analogies right now.
“He told me.” She adjusted her hold on her purse and gave the door another quick look. “Perhaps we should go somewhere else to chat? Somewhere more private?” She brightened. “I know, you can come to my house. I don’t live far from here.”
“He told you what?” Forgetting my edict about staying still, I rushed forward to grip her arms. “Tell me the exact words. Please. Don’t leave anything out.”
“Dear, are you all right?” She reached up to touch my forehead and gasped. “You’re burning up.”
“It’s called raging fear. It’ll pass. Please, Mrs. McGuire. If you could just tell me exactly what Kellan said to you, it would really make me feel better.”
“He called to ask me to check on you. After he asked if I remembered you, he told me you’d met on New Year’s and that he was in love with you. Probably.”
“Probably?” I screeched, unintentionally shaking her. “I’m carrying the jerk’s baby and he said probably?”
The knock at the door turned into a pounding. “Margaret, we’re going to need you to leave the bathroom. Now. Paying customers are lining up to use it.”
Oh God, that was my boss, Rick. Just what I needed. I couldn’t lose this job. Not when money was more important to me than ever.
My baby was what mattered, not his or her freaking jackass of a father.
I stepped back, cupping a hand over my mouth. Without another look at Mrs. McGuire’s shocked expression, I yanked open the door and did a doubletake at the massive line. At the front was my boss.
All those women had to use the bathroom at once? Yeah, right. More like they wanted to hear my life explode, since I hadn’t exactly been circumspect. But it was hard not to shout when your world was on the verge of destruction and the guy who’d gleefully skipped right up to the edge at your side probably loved you.
Probably.
God, if I ever saw him again, I was going to legit kick his ass.
I shoved my way through the throng of customers, pushing my way around the counter to grab my purse and coat from the back. I pulled on my jacket, slung my purse over my shoulder, and escaped out the back exit, stopping just outside the door to gaze up at the sky. Snow pelted my overheated face, mingling with the tears I couldn’t hold back anymore.
What was I going to do?
As if the universe wasn’t having enough of a laugh at me, a new song started playing in the pizza shop. Thanks to the external speaker right above where I was standing, Wilder Mind’s “Fool for You” filled the alley. Kellan’s voice rasped over my skin, making me shiver inside my coat as I wrapped my arms around myself.
It wasn’t half as good as having him hold me, but I’d just have to get used to self-love.
I must’ve been the biggest idiot ever not to realize he was a singer. His low, husky voice was made for songs like this. His rasp turned into his signature growl, the one that made my panties wet in practically a single note.
Me and how many others? How many other women listened to his music and asked him to sign their breasts? It was bad enough I couldn’t scour that picture of Kellan at the show out of my brain. That wasn’t even mentioning the photo of his bandmate, the one who’d been in flagrante delicto next to his drum kit.
That was Kellan’s life. From everything I’d read online, Wilder Mind was just beginning their career. They were about to launch a second single, which some reports said was a love song about a chick and others said was basically a breakup anthem. They were headed for the big time, and their current antics
were just the opening act.
His world didn’t make sense to me. I couldn’t relate. But I would try my hardest to understand if Kellan would just let me in.
Fat chance there.
God, he’d never even sang or played for me while I was awake. Somehow that seemed like the biggest betrayal of all. It was as if he’d locked away that part of himself and pretended to be someone else.
You criticized him for looking like a rockstar, remember? You told him flat out you didn’t like him that way.
I huffed out a breath and dropped my arms to my sides. All right, fine. Maybe I’d contributed to Kellan thinking he needed to lie. Unwittingly, I had played a role too.
Now we were apart—again—and nothing seemed any better for the distance. It seemed a million times worse.
“Maggie, honey.” The door thudded shut behind Mrs. McGuire. “It isn’t good for you to get so upset.”
“Kind of a lost cause at this point,” I said without checking my anger, because she was there and he wasn’t.
He was in California and he didn’t have to handle any of this. This problem was mine to figure out, mine to solve. While he played rockstar and ruminated on probably loving me, my entire life had been thrown into chaos.
In my current state, I couldn’t even happily dwell on my multiple orgasms at his hands. Now they were basically fruit from the poison tree. For every moment of bliss he’d given me, I had experienced twice as many moments of worry.
If I was pregnant, everything was going to have to change.
College was probably out for me. I got decent grades but with my work schedule, I couldn’t study as much as I wished. I was an A and B student, something I’d hoped to improve at the next level as I prepared for law school.
Instead of law school, I’d be lucky if I could take one or two courses a year in between working my ass off to support us and breastfeeding.
My breasts were already huge. With milk in them, I wouldn’t need a floatation raft when I went swimming.
