by Stella
Me: Missed them. Pregnancy zaps my energy. Producing life is hard work.
Sperm Donor: Are you taking care of yourself? Vitamins? Eating well?
Sperm Donor: And who sold you coffee?
Me: I’m bored.
Sperm Donor: Get out and do something.
Me: Like what?
I didn’t want to tell him I was looking for a job until I found one. The idea of employment might spark the notion of rent. And at the moment, I couldn’t pay it.
Sperm Donor: I can send Ellie over. She’d do anything for me.
Me: I’m sure she has her hands full.
That was all I needed; the perfect Ellie Kyler waltzing through the door with a gorgeous baby boy on each hip and her beautiful little girl by her side to show me what life could be like if your mother wasn’t like mine and hadn’t stolen your future. Facebook stalking was another new favorite pastime of mine.
Sperm Donor: She’s family.
Me: She’s Missy’s best friend. No, thank you.
It was a low blow, but it had to be done. I had no desire to spend any time comparing myself to Coby’s wife or hearing about that side of my family.
I didn’t get a response and didn’t have a clue how to take back the painful reminder I’d just thrown in Gage’s face. The screen went dark waiting for another text, and I lit it up repeatedly thinking I might miss something—as if the cell wouldn’t alert me to an incoming message. After thirty minutes, I caved and apologized.
Me: I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought her up.
Sperm Donor: No worries.
That was it. When nothing else came through, I let out a sigh and wanted to kick myself. I wouldn’t hear from him again tonight with the game starting so late. With nothing else to do, I went back across the hall to Gage’s room and closed the blinds. It didn’t take me long to find one of his T-shirts and a pair of his boxers to change into and turned on the television. There was still a while before the game aired, but the Titans had already started the season off strong and Gage was always a hot topic pre- and post-game. Listening to the commentators talk about Gage and the other guys on the team gave me a false sense of belonging—like I was part of something bigger.
I crawled under his blankets and tucked his pillow under my head to get comfortable—on my left side—and still be able to see the screen. Just as I’d predicted, it hadn’t taken long for highlights from last night’s game to play, and Gage Nix was hot on the tongue of everyone at Sunday Night Baseball.
“I think we’re seeing a different Nix this season, Dan.” The girl in the middle leaned forward to speak to the guy on the right, whom I assumed was Dan. She looked perfectly happy to be sandwiched between the two men. Her face had to hurt as much as she smiled—maybe she used Vaseline on her teeth like models.
“He’s on top of his game, although he’s always been a key player on the field. But I agree, he’s more dialed in. Focused.”
“We haven’t seen much of him in the press recently. Quite the change from his time with San Antonio and his early years with Tuscaloosa.”
“His grandmother died, you asshats. Of course he’s changed.” It wasn’t like they could hear me, yet it didn’t stop me from continuing to talk to the screen. “Cut the guy some slack. He’s had a rough couple of years.” I mentally ran through the list of events from blowing out his knee and losing a season, losing Granny, Missy dumping him out of the blue, to finding out his grandmother’s nurse was pregnant with his baby.
I wasn’t sure why I included the pregnancy in the list of bad things that he’d endured—my body was the one incubating his offspring. After the initial shock, he hadn’t seemed upset by the baby. In fact, he came across as rather excited. There hadn’t been a single day since he’d been gone that he hadn’t asked how I felt or checked on the pregnancy. And other than being incredibly tired, I had nothing to report. Thinking about the effort he had put in while he’d been gone, I decided to send a little sunshine his way.
Me: Good luck tonight. We may or may not watch the game. If it’s boring, it’ll be a snoozefest.
I hadn’t expected a response. Years ago, he’d given me multiple phone numbers to reach him in case there was an emergency with Granny because he wasn’t allowed to have a cell phone in the dugout.
Sperm Donor: We?
Me: Baby and me.
Sperm Donor: He definitely wants to watch his daddy play. Let him stay up late.
Me: You do realize this is a fetus we’re talking about. The baby can’t really see the screen.
Sperm Donor: If they can hear music and identify voices, then he can recognize the roar of the crowd and the crack of a bat.
I was a tad impressed with how much Gage had learned about pregnancy in a short amount of time. If it made him happy to think his child was “watching” the game, I was tired enough to play along.
Me: Fair enough. But I can’t make any promises that I’ll make it to the opening pitch. So good luck.
Sperm Donor: Tell the little tike I love him.
Me: It could be a girl.
I wasn’t sure I could handle a boy. A tiny version of Gage would be fine until he started to talk, and walking would put the entire household into a state of emergency.
Sperm Donor: What do you think about the name Gaby?
Me: That’s cute for a girl.
I hadn’t thought much about names. When I did, I envisioned Gage arguing for something like Starr, or Prince, or Major. Gabriella was beautiful.
Sperm Donor: It’s a boy’s name.
Me: Gaby is short for Gabriella…a girl’s name.
Sperm Donor: Gage + Coby = Gaby…boy name.
Me: There’s not enough money in the world to convince me to name a boy Gaby. Even Gage Nix’s son would be beaten to a pulp on the playground. You might as well call him Sue.
Sperm Donor: Coge?
Me: I wouldn’t even know how to pronounce that.
Sperm Donor: I don’t have a lot of letters to work with here. Both of us have short first names.
I shook my head as though he could see me, and I caught myself with my hand on my stomach and an easy smile on my lips. This was entertaining tonight…when he was a plane ride away and not in the same room.
Sperm Donor: Nyler? Kix? Relix? Lyker? Lenix?
There was no doubt about how much Gage loved Coby. I hoped like hell that I could talk him out of these weird suggestions.
Me: We’ve got plenty of time to come up with other names for a GIRL.
Sperm Donor: Boy
Me: Goodnight, Gage.
Sperm Donor: Sleep tight, Crispers. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.
I was excited to see him, too; although, I suspected that would change about five minutes after he walked through the door. But if he were here now—and I could get him to shut up—my hormones would welcome his company…unless I fell asleep.
The bed shifted, startling me. I’d tried to stay awake, but I’d walked all over town to save gas while I looked for a job. Anyone who believed discrimination in this country wasn’t still alive and well was sadly mistaken. At least the guy at the convenience store was honest enough to tell me “off the record” why he wouldn’t hire a pregnant woman—if I got held up at gunpoint in the middle of the night, he’d never forgive himself if I were shot. I appreciated the sentiment, even if it didn’t pay the bills.
“Hey.” I rubbed my eyes and stared at one of the hottest men to ever grace the planet.
Regardless of how obnoxious he could be, there was no denying just how attractive Gage was—yet instead of focusing on his dark hair or lean build, or even the scruff on his unshaven face, it was his eyes that had the power to draw me in and turn me to mush. The irises were an icy, steel-grey except for a drop of warm, honey-brown that looked like the sun rising against the graphite-colored background.
“You enjoying my bed?” He jerked his head up like guys did and gave me a cocky grin.
Shit. I had intended to move back to my roo
m before he got home.
He looked around the room at the clothes on the floor and the cups on the dresser that I hadn’t picked up because I’d fallen asleep…under his comforter…in his T-shirt and boxers. And he was tickled pink. I, on the other hand, rolled my eyes. We hadn’t made it three minutes, and I was ready for him to go back on the road.
Gage stood, pulled his shirt over his head, and tossed it on the bag he’d dropped at the bedroom door. I watched, mesmerized, as he kicked off his tennis shoes and dropped his shorts. Before it occurred to me that I’d done nothing other than stare, and certainly hadn’t objected, he flicked off the light.
“Scoot over, Crisp Kringle.”
On command, I did what he said and slid to the far side of the bed where I could stay on my left side and face him—not that I could see much in the dark. Gage lifted the blankets and crawled in to settle on his back. As though we’d done this a thousand times, he stretched his arm out under my neck and pulled me to his side. We’d never done this. Not one time. Gage Nix and I didn’t cuddle. But I went with it because I was desperate for human interaction.
His touch was inviting and sparked that familiar fire between my legs. Then again, it didn’t take much more than an accidental graze from a stranger to ignite that hunger. Hell, Mike, the mailman, shook my hand this afternoon and it sent tingles all over me—and he had to be in his seventies.
With my head on his chest, I could hear his heart beating. The warmth of his fingers on my hip sent a shiver up my spine. I needed to distract myself—quickly.
“How was the flight?”
“Not bad. I was ready to get home. What have you been doing while I was gone?”
“I went into town a couple times. Nothing much.”
“Looks like you’ve spent most of your time in my room. You bored with yours?” He was fishing, but I refused to take the bait.
“You have a TV.” I shrugged, even though he couldn’t see it in the dark.
I expected him to keep digging; instead, he kissed my forehead. “I’ll get you one, too, if you want one. All you have to do is tell me, Katie.”
Gage’s use of my real name, instead of some demented version of Crisp, warmed me all over—though not in the way Mike the mailman had heated me up on the front porch. Katie rolled off his tongue like rich, melted butter. It was smooth like honey. And I wanted nothing more than to crawl into that sound, that sensation, and make it my home.
I shrugged under his embrace. “I’ll just use yours. Hope you don’t mind. I borrowed some of your clothes, too.”
“Nope.”
The Gage Nix I expected to show up tonight wasn’t here. The goofy banter, the playful jokes, his ability to irritate me in two-point-two seconds—it was all absent. “You okay?” I moved back in order to look up. The moon peeked through the slats in the partially closed blinds, allowing just enough light to highlight his features. Even though I could no longer see the color in his eyes, it was there lurking in the shadows, as was the weariness that etched his brow.
“Yeah. It’s just been a long trip. I’m tired and hate sleeping in hotel rooms. It’s always hard starting the season. I’ll get used to it.”
“At least you have a few days off.”
“I wish. Today was our off day. We have a home game tomorrow. Then a day off. Two more at home. A day off, and then seven straight in Tuscaloosa before we take off again.”
I knew the schedule was strenuous. They played an insane number of games compared to any other professional sport. I’d been around Granny long enough to remember how often he’d be gone. It was my greatest hesitation in his being a part of this pregnancy. What I hadn’t known was that even when he was home, he wasn’t really off. He had his own house when Granny was still alive. He’d also lived with Missy, who Granny wasn’t all that fond of—although she never said why. Still, it didn’t stop him from coming to see her or taking her places. I just hadn’t put together how hard it must have been for him to find the time to do all of that and be on the field, too.
My first ultrasound was the Friday of his seven-game streak, and as much as I didn’t want to go alone, I didn’t have to have him there when he clearly needed to focus on his career and the ten games he’d have to play in the next thirteen days.
While I lay there contemplating how all this would play out, his breathing slowed and the grip he had on my hip relaxed. I pulled the comforter over my shoulder and tucked it under his chin. And without thinking, I kissed his cheek and closed my eyes.
I woke in the morning, tangled up in Gage. Somehow, my thigh ended up draped over his hips, and the erection pushing against me did nothing other than ignite the hormone overdrive that started coming in waves when he was out of town. He was still asleep, so I didn’t bother hiding my need for relief as I pushed my center against his upper leg. Gage shifted, turning into me, and I groaned when his morning wood moved from my thigh to the place I needed it most. And when his hips rolled, giving me a hint of what I wanted, I threw caution to the wind. If he wasn’t awake, he was about to be.
It took little effort to wiggle out of my clothes and push him onto his back. The edges of his mouth curled up, but he didn’t open his eyes. If this was the game he wanted to play, I was fine with that. Girls had needs just like guys, and it wasn’t like I could get that itch scratched anywhere else while pregnant with his baby. I’d likely regret it when it was over—right now, I didn’t care. It wasn’t romantic when I removed his boxers under the covers. There was nothing sexy about how I straddled him. The only thing that drove me wild was the way he held my ass and how his fingers dug into my skin as I took what I wanted.
And when it was over, I collapsed onto the mattress next to him—both of us satisfied. “That’s never happening again,” I affirmed with my eyes closed. It shouldn’t have happened that time. I was weak. I’d never experienced the kind of relentless desire I did being pregnant. But I was good now. And he’d be back on the road soon.
He rolled over on top of me and settled himself between my legs, careful to keep his weight off my torso. Gage didn’t miss how easily my thighs parted to accommodate him, and the gleam in his eyes told me how much he enjoyed that. “Oh, it’s happening again.” He kissed my nose. “And again.” Then the space between my breasts. “And again.” My bellybutton. “And again.”
I lost all sense of reality when his mouth and tongue brought me another wave of release.
“I’m home for less than two weeks. You can’t resist it, and I don’t want to.”
“You missed your calling…should’ve written greeting cards for Hallmark.”
“If I did that, America would’ve missed out on their greatest athlete.”
“Has anyone ever told you that your ego beats you into the room?” I laughed. “Come on. Let me up. I have things to do.” Starting with a shower to rinse off the scent of sex from my body. I definitely wouldn’t get a job smelling like a whore—a pregnant whore, at that.
“You’re not going to spend the day with me?” He leaned back on his haunches and stared at me.
Gage and I didn’t talk while we were naked. We didn’t talk fully clothed. This was unchartered territory, and I was a tad uncomfortable. He hadn’t mentioned—or maybe hadn’t noticed—the slight bulge around my navel. Some days I just looked bloated, but lying on my back completely naked, there was definitely a protrusion.
I tried to pull the sheet over me, but Gage yanked it away and waited for an answer.
“I have things to do, Gage.”
“What’s more important than spending time with your son’s father?”
I ignored his reluctance to admit there was a fifty-fifty chance of a daughter. “Errands.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“I don’t know when I’ll be home. And you have a game.”
“At least let me make you breakfast.”
This wasn’t going to go well. Gage hopped up before I could tell him I hadn’t been grocery shopping since before he left. He
pulled on his boxers and threw his T-shirt at me, although he swiped my panties and the boxers I’d had on from the floor and took them with him out the door.
“Gage, I need those.”
“Not for breakfast, you don’t.” His voice trailed off as he descended the stairs.
I could have stepped across the hall and grabbed another pair out of my drawer, or even forgone the panties and grabbed sweats. I did neither. Instead, I pulled the shirt over my head and walked downstairs. If nothing else, I had to get my vitamins. There was one coffee bean in every dose, and I was collecting them to brew a pot. Gage just thought he was smarter than I was. The addiction was real.
“What have you been eating while I was gone?”
I pivoted on the ball of my foot the second I saw his face and tried to make an escape. Tried being the operative word. Gage snagged my wrist to keep me from leaving. “Clearly, I ate everything.”
“Or nothing. Have you been to the store since I left?”
“Yes.” I had. I picked up toilet paper.
“To buy food?”
I turned to my side, pulled his T-shirt tight around my midsection, and pushed my stomach out. “Does it look like I’ve missed a meal?”
