by Nikki Chase
Adam winces like he’s in physical pain. “Do you curse in front of the baby, too?”
“None of your fucking business,” I snap back, even though I’ve actually toned down the expletives since William was born. “Tell me why you really want to find me. The other girls didn’t think you were paying them enough?”
“I wouldn’t know. I never even talked to any of the other girls,” he says.
I laugh. That’s funny. “Yeah, sure. I believe you.”
“You should. It’s the truth.” Adam gets up on his feet and steps toward me, circling my chair. He leans against the table with a confident smile on his handsome face. “Nobody’s ever caught my attention the way you did. Nobody’s ever gotten me obsessed the way you have.”
“So what you’re saying is, I was a good fuck, and now you want an encore.” I’m not going to let him fool me into thinking it was just good, old attraction followed by the sharing of mutual pleasure, when in fact, what we had was a lurid exchange of sex for money. I won’t let him forget that.
“What I’m saying, kitten, is that I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” he says smoothly as his brilliant, green eyes gaze at me longingly.
“Yeah? So you’re telling me you haven’t even had sex with anybody else in these three years?” I fold my arms over my chest and challenge him.
“Yeah,” he says casually.
Again, I laugh. “You must think I’m an idiot if you expect me to believe that.”
“It’s the truth, kitten,” Adam says. “By the way, when you said you were mine, I thought you were telling the truth, too.”
“When did I . . .” I let my question hang in the air.
Okay, yeah, I remember saying something like that. I remember because it’s part of the filthy folder of memories I store in my brain. But I don’t have to tell him about that.
“Is it all coming back to you now?” Adam smirks.
It’s like he can read my thoughts. Just like he did on that night.
“It was just something I said in the heat of the moment,” I say, feeling my face heat up under his scrutiny. “I mean, if I said it at all, that is. You could be making this stuff up.”
This whole time, I’ve made myself believe that it probably wasn’t as intense as I remember, that my memories have been distorted by time, that he couldn’t have been that charming, or persuasive, or sexy.
But every little word that comes out of his mouth makes me heart race just a little bit faster.
It’s been a while since the last time I felt like this. The butterflies in my stomach; the gallop of my heartbeat; the restlessness in my extremities. In fact, after the high-school, puppy-love phase, Adam’s the only man who’s ever made me feel this way.
He leans down until his face is just inches away from mine. I can almost feel his breath on my skin, and it makes me want to close the gap between us.
Somehow, despite the magnetic pull tugging me toward Adam, I stop myself. I stare back into his eyes, green like two pools of cool water on a hot day, luring me closer and closer.
“I know you remember, kitten,” he says. “I can see it in your eyes. I can see everything in your eyes.”
I’d question that assertion if he hadn’t actually figured me out. But try as I may to deny it, I know he can really read me. Like a book.
I avert my gaze.
“You can say whatever you want,” Adam says. “But we both know there’s something here, and I’m not letting you go just like that. Not again.”
Who does he think he is, trying to force his way into my life like this?
“Have you ever thought that maybe, just possibly, it’s not up to you?” I ask, still looking away from him with my arms crossed over my chest.
“Of course,” he says. “But it’s not up to you either. You know it. I know it. Neither one of us has any control here—not really.
“We’re both slaves to this . . . I don’t even know what to call it. This thing in the air when you’re around. This feeling, like there’s electricity crackling in the air, like it could strike me at any moment, but I yearn for it anyway. It feels like something magical.”
Slowly, I turn to rest my gaze on him. How did he . . .?
“Yeah. You’ve felt it, too,” Adam says. “You meant it when you said you were mine. You may not have been aware of that, but I was.”
“Wow. You’re pretty full of yourself, aren’t you?” I ask, spitting out the words.
He’s making me really angry. But more than that, it freaks me out how well he seems to read me. A thin film of sweat forms on my skin.
“Like I said, you can say whatever you want, but we both know the truth. You’re mine,” Adam declares with complete certainty as he grabs my chin and forces me to look at him.
I give him a flat stare and remain quiet. The promise in his voice sends a shudder down my spine, making it hard for me to collect my thoughts.
“When I told you to come with me and you did, you were mine,” Adam says. He lightly runs the tips of his fingers down my upper arm. “When I told you to get naked and you did, you were mine.”
His touch leaves a trail of little goosebumps on my sensitive skin. It hasn’t escaped his attention. He smirks as he rests a hand on my knee.
“When I told you to spread your legs and you did it—” his hand travels up my thighs over my jeans “—you were mine.”
I swallow, but the lump in my throat remains.
Adam lifts his hand up to caress my cheek. “And when you had my baby, you were mine.”
Adam
Her lips part, but no words come out. She just sits there, staring at me with eyes that tell me everything I need to know.
There's anger there; maybe even outrage. There's evidence of shock. But she's also intrigued. And her rapid, shallow breathing tells me she's aroused, too.
Her cheeks have filled with color. As I run my hand over her denim-clad thigh, she parts her legs for me—only slightly, but I’m watching her like a hawk so nothing escapes my attention.
But most importantly, she hasn’t said no to any of my assertions.
I just told her she was mine and I knew the baby was mine, too. That second one was a bluff, but she doesn’t need to know that.
Her stunned silence is all the evidence I need to confirm all my suspicions.
Sawyer and William are still in the adjacent living room. I can hear some cartoonish voices from the TV, as well as the giggles from William—my son.
Jesus. My son. That sounds so weird. But I guess I’m going to have to get used to it.
I’d already decided, long ago, that I was going to be there for any kids I have. I’m not going to disappear like my dad did. I mean, it’s not like I miss him or anything, but it was really hard for my mom to raise me on her own.
And besides, even if the kid weren’t a factor at all, I was already going to find Katie and make her mine again.
But now . . . After seeing William, my resolve has only grown stronger.
I’ve decided. I’m going to make Katie and William mine. We’re going to be a family.
First, though, I have to convince Katie it’s a good idea.
“He’s mine, isn’t he?” I ask. I need her to say it, even if I already know the truth.
Katie hesitates, and for a moment, I see a storm in her brown eyes, clouding them over. But then, she shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know?”
“I’ve never bothered to find out. He could be anyone’s.” Katie looks away before guardedly glancing at me. She’s lying.
It’s understandable that she wouldn’t believe me since we haven’t seen each other in three years, but I need to find out for sure. I have the right to know, don’t I?
“I don’t think you’re telling the truth, kitten.” I trap her gaze and watch her squirm in her seat.
“Well, maybe I don’t think you’re telling the truth either,” she says after a long silence.
“What do
you mean by that?”
“I mean I don’t know you. You claim to have met me at The Succubus, but you could be lying about that. And even if that’s true, we still have only met once.” Staring straight into my eyes with bravado, she repeats, “That’s what I mean. I don’t know you.”
The corners of my lips tug up into a smile. She’s sassy. I kind of like that.
“You can stop lying to me now. I can see right through you,” I say.
“You don’t even know me,” she snaps.
Just then, a heart-breaking wail breaks out, and I turn to look for the source of the sound. Before I can find it, the wooden legs of Katie’s chair drag on the floor as she gets up and rushes to the living room.
William’s crying, and Katie, the good mom that she is, rushes to check on him.
My son’s crying, and his mom’s doing everything a good mom would.
I’ve always wanted a family of my own. Maybe it’s because growing up, it was just my mom and me. Maybe it’s some irrational urge to prove myself different from my dad.
Regardless, the scene unfolding in the living room right now, of Katie comforting a crying William, is the one I’ve always yearned for my whole life.
And now that I’ve found it, I’m not going to just walk away from it.
I stand in front of Katie’s bathroom vanity, staring at my reflection in the mirror. The vent fan whirrs noisily—good; that should somewhat cover the sounds I’m inevitably going to make.
Okay, that didn’t come out right. Just to clarify, I’m not doing a number two.
I turn my attention to the screen of my phone again.
Let’s do this.
The list on the webpage shows the types of samples they accept, the prices, and the success rates.
So, the best samples to collect would be:
(1.) Blood.
Katie wouldn’t hesitate to kill me if I tried to get a blood sample from William. I’d be dead before I so much as prick William’s skin with a needle.
(2.) Semen.
Yeah, that’s not going to work in this case.
(3.) Nail clippings.
(4.) Hair (with roots).
I stare at the bright-yellow trash can with the silver lid. Any of those two things could potentially be inside there, right?
It’s kind of gross . . . But I can wash my hand afterward, right here, and it’s probably just facial tissues anyway, right? Like the kind Katie probably uses while putting on her make-up.
Besides, we’re talking about my firstborn son here. A little dirt’s not a big deal.
I crouch down and open the lid. It’s not too full, which is great because that means it’s relatively cleaner—as clean as a trash can can be anyway—but it also means that I’m less likely to find . . . let me check my list.
Five to ten nail clippings, or seven to ten hairs.
As I sift through the trash and come across some dark hair, I realize there’s no way to tell if the hair belongs to William or Katie, or even Sawyer. Same goes for the nail clippings, although I don’t see any in the trash.
I check my phone again. What’s next on the list?
(5.) Ear swabs.
I guess I can get a Q-tip and swab William’s ear real quick. If I’m careful, maybe Katie won’t notice.
(6.) Toothbrush.
(7.) Drinking glass.
I decide taking William’s toothbrush or drinking glass home would be too obvious to escape Katie’s attention. Besides, I’m not about to steal anything from the home of a single mother, who could potentially be the mother of my firstborn son.
(8.) Mucus on facial tissue or paper towel.
(9.) Drinking straw.
I guess I can try to get some of William’s drool on Kleenex, or make him drink through a straw somehow and take that straw home. But where would I even get a straw from?
I wash my hands then open Katie’s medicine cabinet and rifle through it.
I knew she’d have them.
Armed with the two Q-tips and the two Kleenexes in my pockets, I step out of the bathroom, a man on a mission.
Katie
“Let me help,” Adam says as he sits on the couch in my living room.
I narrow my eyes at him. I can’t decide how I feel about him—angry, attracted, afraid? All I know is, he’s suspicious.
Am I really about to hand him my boy?
At the same time, though, he is William’s father. Maybe it won’t hurt to let him hold his son for a few minutes.
Besides, Sawyer’s in the bathroom and someone has to pick up the phone that’s ringing. There’s an important call I’ve been waiting for.
“Okay,” I say, defeated. I place William on Adam’s lap and rush to take the call.
I’ve been waiting for word about a promotion at work, and this could be the all-important call. If I get this promotion, I can finally afford to hire a babysitter a couple nights a week so I can have a life.
Sawyer’s offered to do that for me before, but I can’t expect that kind of a regular schedule for him. I’ve only ever asked him to look after William when I really had no other alternative.
“Hello,” I say into the phone.
“Katie, have you heard yet?” Daisy’s voice filters through the receiver, filling me with relief and disappointment at the same time.
“Heard what?” I ask as my heartbeat slows down.
“The news about the promotion. Have you heard from the hospital yet?” she asks excitedly.
“No. When I picked up, I thought it was the hospital calling.”
“Oh.” Daisy giggles. “Sorry. Call me when you hear the news.”
“Okay. By the way . . .” I drop my voice to a whisper and cover the phone microphone, “The guy from the club came to dinner tonight.”
“What club? Since when did you have time to go partying again? And if you have so much free time, why haven’t you been visiting me?” Daisy asks.
“No, no. It’s that guy. The guy from The Succubus,” I say, still whispering.
“What?” Daisy asks. “You mean . . . William’s dad?”
“Yeah. It can’t be anyone else, Daisy. I told you.”
I used to sleep around when I was younger. But by the time I took that job at The Succubus, I’d mellowed out some.
So when Adam whisked me into the private room and gave me the best sex I’ve ever had, it had been a few months since I’d had sex with anyone else.
And after that night at The Succubus, I got scared and decided not to sleep with anyone for a while. Then, I found out I was pregnant . . . and then, I had William, and I just haven’t had time to get laid since forever.
“Oh my god! What is he doing the—”
“I can’t talk now,” I say, cutting Daisy off.
“Is he still there? Oh my god!”
“You’ve already said that. And remember I was waiting for a phone call from the hospital?”
“Oh. Right. Call me as soon as you can. Promise me.”
“I promise. Bye now. Love you.”
“Love you, too,” Daisy says before she hangs up.
When I get back into the living room, I expect to see William crying and Adam trying to stare him into shutting up—to no avail, of course.
But instead, William’s contentedly sitting on Adam’s lap, leaning back on his broad chest as they both watch TV. Adam’s even got a Kleenex in his hand to wipe up the drool that’s escaped through the side of William’s mouth.
I have to say, I’m kind of disappointed by how calm things are.
And man, do they look alike. The dark, messy hair that’s just a joy to ruffle. The bright, intelligent, green eyes. Even the facial expressions that they make.
Damn it. There’s no way Adam’s just going to let this go, is there?
Fear and dread fill my chest. What’s going to happen now?
Katie
The Next Day
“Spill,” Daisy says urgently, as soon as I pick up the phone call.
“I s
till haven’t heard from the hospital,” I say, although I know that’s not what she’s asking.
Daisy sighs. “Don’t tease me, Katie. Tell me everything about the guy. So, who is he?”
Daisy knows I used to try to find Adam in the beginning. She helped talk me down from the ledge when I cried to her, telling her I couldn’t possibly raise a child on my own.
She still gives me tons of parenting advice and even some hand-me-downs from her own two kids. She also helps babysit William sometimes.
She’s been right there beside me in my journey as a mom. I couldn’t have done anything I’ve accomplished without Daisy.
I tell her exactly what happened last night—Adam’s stunned expression when he first saw me in the kitchen; what he said about Sawyer’s “investigation” to find me; the way he asked me directly if William was his and my negative reply; and the way they went into food comma together on the couch.
“That sounds adorable,” Daisy sighs. “I love to watch Caine interact with the kids. It’s the most mesmerizing thing.”
“Yeah, well, Caine’s your husband, Daisy. We’re talking about a guy whom I slept with once. At a sex club. While he was wearing a mask. And I didn’t even know what his name was. Oh, and he left me some money on the nightstand when he was done.” I massage my temples; my head’s been feeling progressively worse today. Good thing I’m not working today, I guess. “God, Daisy, I can’t believe I did all those things.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Daisy says. “You were just having fun, and you weren’t hurting anybody.”
“Maybe I hurt William by bringing him into the world when I couldn’t give him what he needs to flourish.”
“If you don’t stop talking like that, I’m going to slap you,” Daisy says. “You’re a great mom, and don’t let anybody tell you otherwise. So you can’t send William to private school. Who cares?”
I stop myself from pointing out that her kids will probably go to private school, seeing as Caine’s whole family is loaded.
