by Frost, Sosie
She rolled her eyes. “Just listen to me, Hunter. I thought once I had opened The Bookshelf, I’d be satisfied. I had plenty of business. Tons of reading groups and clubs start up. Children’s programs all summer. Butterpond really came through for me, which is kinda crazy because I didn’t know anyone in town could actually read.”
“Your tutoring sessions helped.”
“But the problem is…I know I’ve achieved everything I’ve set out to do…but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough. I’m missing something.” Her voice softened, and she picked at the sheets. “I’ve been unhappy lately.”
The guilt hit me harder than any wave of panic.
“I know,” I said. “It’s my fault.”
“Hunter, no.”
“It is.” I sucked in a breath. “I haven’t been around as much lately. Haven’t really…been there for you.”
“You’ve been busy. Working all those extra jobs. And you’ve been working so hard to get your house finished.”
It was only half-true.
I’d been trying to get away from her.
Trying to find some time to think—to figure out how much longer I could stuff all my feelings into a crinkled ball like a piece of leftover tinfoil.
The jobs weren’t for me. They were to make money so I could offer her something. And the house wasn’t my dream—I built it so she’d have a safe, warm, and beautiful place to live.
My goal was to provide the things that should’ve made her happy, so she didn’t need to go to such extremes to fill the void I should’ve patched years ago.
But a man didn’t have many options when he couldn’t afford a ring. And he couldn’t provide for a woman if he didn’t have a house with four solid walls yet. A promise for a good future took time and money and a shit ton of contracting jobs.
Which, of course, needed to take a hiatus until the world unfucked itself.
“I never wanted you to be unhappy.” I met her gaze—those bright-as-a-new-penny copper beauties. “But…will a baby really be the thing that does it for you?”
She seemed like she was rational and sober, despite being naked and squirming in bed.
“There’s just so many things in this life I haven’t experienced yet,” Déjà said. “Things I’m not sure I’ll ever find on my own.”
Now that was ridiculous.
The only reason I sacrificed my every waking hour and broke my fucking back with manual labor was to make myself look as attractive as possible to Déjà before some other town jackass took a crack at her.
“Of course you’ll get those things,” I said. “Hopefully in the right order. At the right time.”
Déjà curled her legs in, shrinking into a tiny ball. “I feel like I’m totally alone in this world sometimes. That there isn’t anyone who gets me. I don’t want to waste my time searching for someone who might not actually be out there, you know?”
Well, fuck.
I was here, wasn’t I?
Or had I been so fucking closed off that she couldn’t tell I had feelings for her?
“That’s not true.” I took a risk and tapped my chest. “You have me. You’ll always have me.”
Déjà grinned, taking my hand.
Her skin was pure silk. How the hell did the woman do it? I was almost ashamed to touch her with my calloused fingers better suited for sandpaper and grit.
“That’s exactly why this might be a good idea,” she said. “Because it’s you. And it’s me. And we’ve always been best friends, ever since we were young. Well, now is the perfect time to think about the future. The entire world has stopped. We’re stuck inside. It’s just you and me and whatever plans we can concoct to start the rest of our lives.”
“…And your plan includes us having sex.”
“As a means to an end.”
How fucking romantic.
Had it been any other time, with no insane strings, I would’ve leapt at the opportunity. But this?
This didn’t seem like Déjà at all.
“How long have you been thinking about this?” I asked.
“About this particular scenario? With you specifically?” Déjà scrunched her nose. “My plans might’ve accelerated once you busted through my door.”
“Jesus! That’s not enough time to make a decision like this!”
Déjà scooted forward. “But I’ve wanted a baby for a long time, Hunter. Now you’re here. I’m here. We’re stuck in quarantine. Hell, I’m not even wearing clothes. It’s perfect.”
“It isn’t perfect! It’s complicated. It’s messy.” Every plan I had for us exploded in my face. I rubbed my cheek, half-expecting to see soot. “It’s a baby.”
Her voice warmed. “And it’ll be ours.”
Hard to argue with that.
But I’d try.
“We aren’t even married,” I said.
Yet.
But this was the funniest thing Déjà had heard all pandemic.
“Since when do you want to get married?” She gently pushed me. “You’re a confirmed bachelor. You haven’t chased women for years.”
Only because I’d been waiting for her.
And it served me right for being so damned chickenshit and waiting too long.
Déjà edged closer to me. “I’d expect nothing from you, Hunter.”
I glanced at the trouble between my legs, still rock hard and apparently loving this insane idea.
“Hate to break it to you, Vu, but you’re asking for a lot already. About nine inches of favors.”
She cleared her throat. “Uh, what I mean is—there’d be no pressure on you, you know, if I’d get pregnant.”
“You think I wouldn’t want to help raise my own baby?”
She smirked. “That’s another reason why this is such a good idea. You and I have always worked so well together. I know we could be a family. You’d be an amazing father.”
I’d make a better lover, boyfriend, husband first.
Too bad she had no interest in those roles.
Déjà continued, her eyes widening. “You take such good care of your family. And you’re always there to help me. Look at how quickly you rushed through the house when you thought I was in trouble.”
Oh, she was in trouble all right.
Nothing a broom could chase away though.
“You have good instincts,” she said. “A solid head on your shoulders. Noble motivations. All we need to do is…make the baby together.”
“Oh, is that all?”
So much for her gentle caress of my shoulder. She flicked my ear with her finger.
“You were so keen on this before,” she said.
“That’s before I knew what you were planning.”
“So? Shouldn’t that make you want me more? At least this way, you know it wouldn’t be some random, quick mistake.”
“First of all…” I held my arms out. “Nothing about what I do is quick. Secondly…do you think it would’ve meant nothing if I’d just taken you?”
“It would’ve been…an awkward kind of special,” she said. “After all, it is you, even if it gets complicated.”
“Isn’t a baby a complication?”
“Not if it’s yours.”
That was the sweetest thing she’d ever said for all the wrong reasons.
I scratched the back of my head, avoiding her questioning gaze. “And what if I say no?”
Didn’t take me long to realize it was a stupid thing to say.
In what universe would I be insane enough not to take that step, forge that bond, and seize Déjà in any way I could possibly get her?
She did her best to hide her disappointment. “I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about any other man but you.”
Good. I breathed a sigh of relief.
“But, if you’re uncomfortable with it…” Déjà hummed to herself. “I suppose I could find someone else. A sperm donor, I guess.”
My blood ran cold, froze, then shattered and slashed my insides.
; Absolutely fucking not.
I wouldn’t allow it to happen.
I couldn’t imagine such a cold and clinical future for Déjà.
No one to hold her. No one to experience that joy with her. No one to cradle her after bodies collided and miracles were created.
She’d get what she thought she wanted only to hate herself forever.
Or…
She’d try to find someone else who could give her those moments.
Someone who wasn’t me.
Fuck that.
“We’ve gotta talk about this,” I said. “A lot of things can change. We’ve never had sex…I mean…together.”
Déjà nodded. “It’d be weird. But, on the bright side, we might only have to do it once.”
She really wasn’t selling me on this idea.
Christ, what the hell was I doing.
I had one shot with the only woman I ever loved, and she didn’t know how much it’d mean to me.
“Or…” Déjà tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear with a nervous chuckle. “It might take a lot of times. We might be in bed with each other…constantly.”
At least this insanity had an upside.
“What about our friendship?” I asked. The word felt so vague, so plain and generic in my mouth. Friendship had never been enough for me. Maybe this was the right time to tell her. “If we do this, if you’re really sure about it…everything will be different between us.”
“I wouldn’t trust anyone else with this.”
And that was why I resolved to do it.
But how? When?
I flopped onto the bed, stealing her sheet before grinding the heels of my hands into my eyes.
“And here I thought getting a shelter-in-place order would be the biggest news I heard today,” I said.
“Surprise.”
“Big, big surprise.”
Déjà hesitated before cuddling at my side. Her hand slowly twisted its way into mine. She squeezed my fingers.
And I was lost.
“When do you want to…start?” I stared only at the ceiling. Always had imagined the view from her bed…but not like this.
“Well…” Déjà nuzzled my arm as she snuggled in closer. “I assume it’s best to try when I’m actually fertile.”
Couldn’t hide my reaction with just a sheet covering my cock.
The damned word drove me fucking crazy.
Fertile.
I hardened again, tenting the blanket. It revealed entirely too much about how amenable I could be to her demands.
Déjà giggled, muffling her laugh with her hand.
Great. I’d gone from Daddy-Material to Sideshow Attraction quicker than I could say bend over.
But my body couldn’t help but respond.
Fertile.
The word had always seemed so dry and scientific before. Never once had I thought about the implications with a naked woman at my side, purring, begging, and practically whining for a chance to hop on my cock and pump every last drop of seed from me.
What a risky, dangerous, and amazing power the woman held over me.
“When will you be…” If I’d said the word, I would’ve come right there. “Ready?”
“Two days from now. Maybe three. Is that okay?”
Better than okay. “I can manage.”
“The only problem is…you should probably…” Déjà made an awkward motion with her hands. “You need to save it all up for then.”
I laughed. “Is that how it works?”
“If we’re trying, I want to give it the best shot we can. That means keeping you…undiluted.” She didn’t look at me, but her hand squeezed mine tighter. “I can’t thank you enough for this.”
“We haven’t had sex yet.”
“I’m sure I can thank you then too.”
“I can think of a couple ways.”
“There’s just one more thing…”
What else could this woman throw at me?
I rolled onto my side, gazing down at a beautiful, delicate angel. A powerful woman who, in that moment, looked so damn vulnerable I couldn’t help but brush the curls from her face and steal a kiss that meant more than any playful flirting or impetuous arousal.
I kissed her to prove that I had meant every word.
If she wanted me, she had me.
If she trusted me, I had to prove I was worth her admiration.
And if she wanted to start a new part of her life with me, then I’d take that leap with her so I could catch her when she fell.
She hummed against my lips, her words breathy.
“I do have one little secret,” she whispered. “And I hope it won’t be a problem.”
“You asked me to have sex with you. That means a man can’t have any problems.”
She arched an eyebrow and puffed out a sigh. “There’s something we’ve never quite discussed. About us. About who we’ve seen. Who we’ve been with…”
“Doesn’t bother me, Vu. I know you dated that Jerk guy for a while.”
“Jeff. And no…that’s not it exactly.” She peeked up at me, her eyes Christmas morning wide. “I’ve never actually…we never…”
Uh-oh.
“Déjà…”
“I’ve never been with anyone…ever.”
Oh no.
No, no, no.
My every fantasy came true just as my vision threatened to go black.
This woman was about to kill me, and she had no goddamned idea.
“Hunter?” Déjà whispered my name with an innocent curiosity. “Is it okay if you take my virginity?”
4
Déjà
If it seemed strange that I would’ve agreed to have a baby with my best friend only to make a bed for him on the downstairs couch…
That’s because it was.
And I got the feeling neither of us slept last night.
I wished I might have blamed nerves or awkwardness or the insanity of such a request for my sleepless night.
But in reality?
Regret thwapped me right in the gut.
Why had I stopped us?
We’d been naked. In bed. Wrapped up so tight with each other I didn’t know where my arms stopped, his legs began, and whose butt clenched tighter when the subject of the b-a-b-y was broached.
It would’ve been so easy to invite him to stay the night in my bedroom.
And just as weird.
It wasn’t that it’d been our first kiss. At least, our first real kiss and not the little toddler peck on the cheek that our parents had captured on camera. That photo chased us through elementary school, high school, post-graduation, and finally, hung neatly on the wall of my shop as the bookstore’s first real decoration. Hunter hated it. I thought it was cute.
Though our latest kiss was much…
Better.
And if that was the sneak-peek trailer of the feature presentation to come—I’d be the popcorn, he could be the junior mints, and we’d finally have an answer to why the floor was perpetually sticky in a movie theater.
I couldn’t believe myself. We’d had our first kiss, our first real touch, the first time I’d ever seen him naked…
And wow.
There was a lot of him to be naked.
More than I’d expected, but, from what I’d heard about Hunter Jamison, I shouldn’t have been surprised. Still, I was glad my best friend could back-up all the hype.
Which was exactly why I couldn’t believe he’d agreed to this.
Hunter certainly had the right equipment. That cowboy could’ve wrangled himself a whole herd of fillies and gone straight to stud.
And yet, he hadn’t been serious with any woman. Ever.
Like all the popular guys in high school, he’d played the field. And I was certain he found ways to entertain himself while he stayed in town and I went off to college…
But he hadn’t settled down. Never searched for a nice girl to marry so he could have babies and start a family.
I sup
posed it all worked out in my favor, but it didn’t make sense.
Hunter was such a catch that, on a hot summer night, he batted away more women than mosquitos. He was handsome, fun, and, if his kissing was any indication, more than a good time in bed.
So why hadn’t he found anyone to be his someone?
I patted into the living room—white polar bear slippers on my feet, short shorts, and a baby-doll t-shirt worn under an opened, light robe. Same thing I’d always tossed on in the mornings when Hunter would stop by, and yet…
Was I overdressed?
Wearing too little?
Entirely too familiar?
The pajamas felt far more revealing than hiding under the sheet. Too many presumptions and not nearly enough answers.
At least I’d removed the silk bonnet from my hair. My curls bounced every which side of Sunday, but that chaos was our usual morning routine.
“Coffee?” I offered him the Hello Kitty mug, preferring to keep my Ironfield Rivets’ cup for my tea. “One sugar. No cream. Just how you like it.”
Hunter didn’t look at me, and he kept his hands firmly placed on his knees. He’d already showered, dressed, and folded my grandmother’s quilt over the arm of the couch. Looked like he meant to burst out the front door for work, though neither of us had anywhere to go or any job to be done.
We were supposed to stay sheltered for the next two to three weeks.
Very long, very perplexing, very life-changing weeks.
“Unless that’s mostly whiskey, I’ll pass.” Hunter stared only at a rough spot on my hardwood floors which I had covered with a rug, hoping he wouldn’t get any ideas to rip up the planks and renovate. “Though if you spike it with some Benadryl to knock me out, I’ll take it.”
So, we were in a good mood this morning.
I set the coffee down before him, knowing full well he’d drink the damn thing and like it as long as I had made it. Only question was if he’d remember to use a coaster.
“It’s only coffee,” I said. “Though I have a baseball bat I can use to render you unconscious if that’s how you prefer to spend the pandemic.” I gently sat down next to him, careful to toss the robe over my bared legs. Not a move I would’ve made before, but now it seemed easier to talk if I covered up. “Here, I thought you’d want to spend the week naked, but I guess you don’t need to be awake for what we’re planning to do.”
