“We’re not the ones who are getting ourselves pregnant when there’s a very nice man who would give anything to get another chance right in front of us. Who is the crazy one now, Ash?”
Her. It’s definitely her. I’m smart enough not to say that because she’s near the wooden spoon.
“You’re right, Mom. I’m glad you love me and all my crazy.”
She smiles and then touches my face. “Always.”
Well, at least one parent is sort of on board, the other is easy because he’ll never go against my mother. Now, I need to tell Clara my choice, and get this show on the road.
16
Ashton
“Good morning,” Quinn says, standing outside my apartment door with a cup of coffee in his hand.
“What is this?”
“I thought maybe we should talk, but you’ve ignored my request sent via email, then two texts, and me at the door.”
“And here I thought the ignoring of all that was an indication of what I thought of your request to walk me to work.” I take the coffee from him and drink. If he’s going to be persistent, he can suck it up that I’m going to be a terrible person to be around.
“Sure, you can have that.”
“Thanks. I have a busy day today, and I appreciate you getting me the fuel to get through it.”
Quinn nods with a smile. “I’ll be sure to have one for you tomorrow as well. And the next day. And the day after that, and so on . . .”
“That’s a lot of days and a terrible way to spend your income, but . . . I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You can also bring me lunch. There’s this awesome little pizza place on fifty-fifth that’s like an orgasm in your mouth.”
“I’ll give you an orgasm in your mouth,” Quinn says almost as a reflex.
“Been there. Done that. No thanks.” I take a drink to hide my blush because that’s exactly what I’d like to do.
God that man’s penis is like a gift from the heavens. I’m going to miss it.
Hell, I’ll miss sex.
I would’ve at least liked getting another good lay before the baby. However, I’m going to get knocked up, sans the big o. Although I did get quite a few from Quinn the other night, so they’ll just have to tide me over.
I spent last night solidifying that man number twenty was, in fact, the best option. His physicality is definitely what I would be attracted to, not to mention he’s smart, which bodes well. He’s the kind of guy I could see myself dating and settling down with. I could’ve picked guy number forty-four who is a space engineer and holds two doctorates, but that doesn’t sound like someone I would want to procreate with. So, normal and athletic is my choice.
Looking at the very nice specimen in front of me, I almost wish I could have sex with him again and not get attached. But that’s not likely. I’m too damn emotional when it comes to him.
Quinn takes back the coffee and drains it.
“Hey!” I protest.
“If you’re not going to be nice, you don’t get your caffeine in the morning.”
Bastard.
“You’re fired from protecting me or being around me—again.”
“Keep trying, fragolina. I’m unfireable.” He grins. “Besides, I love you, and as the man who is willing to lay down his life for you, it’s my duty to be here day in and day out until you see the error of your ways.”
Seriously, this is going to be hell. He has no intention of giving up.
“Well, try to keep up,” I say and then head for the stairs. I don’t care that I’m on the eighteenth floor, that his leg hurts thanks to overdoing it with his stupid jog with my father, or that I can probably outrun him.
Going down the stairs is faster than waiting for the elevator.
“You think this is going to deter me?” he asks, staying right on my heels.
I knew it wouldn’t, but at this point, making him miserable is my only source of entertainment regarding this entire situation.
Instead of arguing with him, which would probably end in some sort of kiss or loss of clothes in the stairwell, I put my music on and head to work.
Quinn does exactly what he promised when we were at my place, he is sort of there, but not. This time, there is no talking, taking my headphones, or irritating me. I’m able to get on the subway, get off, and grab my bagel and coffee from my favorite shop on the way, all without him even being in my line of vision.
I know he’s there. Regardless of whether I can see him, I can sense him.
After I get my food, I walk the streets of Manhattan, smelling the roasted nuts, coffee, and smog as I go. All the while knowing that, if there’s any chance of danger, he’ll be right there.
When I’m about a block away, I decide to test my theory.
I push forward a little too hard, bumping a rather large gentleman dressed in a huge sweatshirt and a pair of jeans that are low enough to show that he’s wearing Calvin Klein boxers. The force of my accidental bump sends his food and coffee tumbling to the ground. He turns, and in typical New York fashion, he yells. “Jesus! Watch where you’re going.”
“You watch it,” I spit back.
“Lady, you pushed me, and now I’m out of my breakfast.”
“Oh?” I sneer. “I’m so sorry you’re so delicate that you can’t handle it. Looks to me like you could afford to skip a few meals.”
He glares, and I know this is going to be bad. “Excuse me?” The bald man takes a step toward me. “You push me and then you come at me like this? You should be apologizing or offering to buy me a coffee and donut, but you want to be a bitch? Fuck you, lady.”
What started as a fun experiment has now pissed me the hell off. There are only four people in the world who can call me a bitch, and this douchebag isn’t one of them. “Excuse me? You’re calling me a bitch?” My Jersey accent gets even thicker. “Fuck you harder.”
The bald asshole chuckles once. “You’re not worth it. Stupid bitch.”
I go to move forward to push him or maybe knock his ass out when a pair of arms wrap around me from behind, spinning me around before setting me down. I go to move, but I’m met with a very large and angry person blocking me with an arm out.
“Apologize to the lady,” Quinn’s voice is filled with danger.
The hairs on my arms rise as goose bumps appear.
Oh, you’re in big trouble now, Baldy. My ex-boyfriend-navy-SEAL-who-can-kill-you is about to go commando on your ass.
I peek out from behind him with a grin. “You heard the man. Apologize or get knocked out.”
Quinn levels me with a stare.
I slink back behind him, my hands on his broad back, and I can’t stop smiling. He was here, ready to save me even if I provoked it. There’s no doubt he knows exactly what I was doing, but then again, it serves him right.
“Look, I don’t know who you people think you are, but I’m not apologizing to no one. She pushed me and then wanted to get tough, control your woman.”
Oh, he’s going to die. Maybe my big plan wasn’t exactly the best idea. I touch Quinn’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “Quinn, why don’t we let Mr. Clean here go about his day with his shitty attitude.”
He doesn’t move.
This is bad.
I try again. “You know, you could kill him, but then you’d be in jail and I would be out in this big scary world without a protector. Imagine all the trouble I could get into . . .”
Not like I don’t live a perfectly safe life pretty much daily, but whatever. He needs to calm down. Also, I feel a little guilty since I created this hot mess.
Quinn’s shoulders relax slightly, and I use that opening to get around him. “Listen, you should go before he kills you, and he really will, we’ll chalk this up to another day in New York City, okay?”
“Whatever.” He huffs and then walks off.
Thank God.
I turn to Quinn, who is still fuming, and the small amount of guilt I had is now quite a bit more. I was trying to prove something to my
self, but what if he hadn’t been there? Then what? I would’ve been in some real trouble. Not to mention, I was toying with him, which is what I’ve accused him of doing for years.
“Thanks for jumping in like that,” I say sheepishly.
Quinn closes his eyes, his hands holding my wrists. “Why did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Ashton.” His voice is full of warning.
This is even worse because he knows I did it to provoke him. Damn it. “Because I was feeling bitchy. I don’t want you following me around. I don’t want to know you’re there but not be able to see you. I don’t want to feel any of these things.”
“Feel what things?”
Oh, no. We’re not doing this. “I have to go to work.”
“You can’t have it both ways. You can’t want me to be there and not see me at the same time as you want to see me but not want me around.”
“You’re the one who came back and told me you love me,” I say the last word in air quotes.
“I want to show you that I’m not the same man who deployed six months ago. What I went through over there, it changed me. I just need you to give me a chance. Let me show you that I love you, Ashton. Let me prove it.”
All the fight drains out of me. Why does he have to say things like this? Why now when I finally have a plan?
“I . . . I need to go to work, Quinn. I have to think, and I . . . I don’t know that I can put myself out there again. I don’t know if I can relinquish my plans again only to end up alone.”
His blue eyes fill with disappointment. “I understand. I’ll be here when you’re done. I’ll be here until you can trust me again.”
I turn and walk toward my building, hating this day.
Broken trust is a long and hard road to repair. There are obstacles and hairline fractures that we don’t always see, and I worry that if we travel down that way, a patch will give out, sending us into the ditch.
17
Ashton
After the day on the street, I haven’t seen Quinn once. It’s been seven days of me moping around, looking for him, and trying to play Where’s Waldo, but coming up with nothing. This is what I wanted, but yet I feel broken.
Even with my best friend here to take me to my appointment, I’m miserable.
“What’s wrong? Today should be a happy day!” Gretchen says as she nudges me. “You’re going to get the medicine and give Clara your choice. It’s a big day, Ash and number twenty is a lucky guy. Be happy.”
“I should be, but . . .”
“But you miss Quinn?”
“Shut up.”
She laughs. “Look, you guys have a long history, and it’s normal to miss him.”
“It’s been a week. And almost three weeks of him being around all the time, now he’s invisible. . .” Her eyes cast down and toward the side. What is with my friends and their withholding of information. Jesus. “What are you not telling me?”
“I’m not supposed to tell you if I’m clearly holding back.” Gretchen trips over the words.
“Well, too bad.”
She starts to fidget. “Fine, he’s in Virginia Beach, which is why I came a week earlier. Apparently, you’re not supposed to be alone so . . . yeah.”
He left? He left and didn’t tell me? What the hell is that? And then, he sends my best friend to babysit me. This is ridiculous.
And then my brain starts to function and I put together why he would leave on today of all days. “He knows what is happening today doesn’t he? That’s why he suddenly had to go to Virginia?”
“No, actually, he doesn’t. Or at least, I don’t think he does. He’s meeting with some navy people or something. It was all official business, but if he does know . . .” She trails off, seeming to come to the same distinction I did.
“Yeah. It would make sense.”
“Well, we can’t change him, we can only talk about you and how you could be pregnant in a few weeks.”
I nod. “Yeah, it’s everything I wanted.”
Gretchen looks at me and then releases a soft sigh. “It doesn’t sound very convincing.”
“It’s fine.”
“Okay, if you say so, but you’re lying and we both know it.”
I seem to be doing a lot of that lately, mostly to myself. I know this is what I want, but I wanted it with someone. No one plans to live out their life like this. Most girls dream of the man, not just the baby. I know I did.
It was just the wrong guy in the dream.
Facing that reality today is the saddest part.
Gretchen hooks her arm around mine as we walk into the clinic. “Well, I am happy for you. Cat really wishes she could be here too.”
“Oh, that would’ve been a fun day. The three of us together as I find out when I can get knocked up.”
She laughs. “Of all of us, the most likely to be involved in a threesome is you.”
The sad part is that she’s not wrong. “I love you both but not that much.”
“Oh, please. You’ve tried to kiss me once.”
I burst out in a fit of giggles. Leave it to Gretchen to make me feel better. “I was drunk.”
“I know, but you laughed.”
I rest my head on her shoulder. “Thank you for being here.”
“Always.”
And that’s the thing about my life. I may not have the man that I thought I would, but I have friends and family that others would kill for. It makes this bittersweet moment not so hard to deal with, and I know that I’m going to be fine. I also know that, in time, I’ll find what I want . . . even if that man isn’t going to be Quinn.
“You’re pregnant,” Clara says with her hand over the file.
“I’m sorry, but we didn’t even get to that part yet,” I say, looking from her to Gretchen and then back to Clara.
“Yes, but the tests that we ran shows us that you’re pregnant.”
“I can’t be pregnant, Clara, I didn’t even have the IUI yet. That doesn’t make any sense!”
Gretchen covers her mouth. “Oh, but you did have the sex, my friend.”
Oh my God. I had sex. I had sex with Quinn almost three weeks ago. I don’t even remember if we used a condom. No, we did. Right? We had to. I mean, we haven’t used them in years because I was on the pill and . . . and I never told him I came off it.
I came off the fucking pill a few months ago when I wasn’t having sex and started to form this plan.
I came off the pill, and then I had sex with Quinn and didn’t even think . . .
“This can’t be,” I say quickly. “This is a false positive or something crazy with the system. The lab fucked it up!”
Clara squares her shoulders. “We both know the likelihood of that is low. I know you’re emotional and that this is a shock, but you are pregnant. When your urine showed a very, very faint sign, we did the blood test and you are one hundred percent pregnant.”
“Run it again!” I yell as I get to my feet.
This can’t be happening. I know I wanted a baby with the doppelgänger of Quinn, but I didn’t want this. I mean, it’s a baby, which was the end goal, but not with him. Not when we’re both so emotionally fucked we could write a book about it.
One stupid time, and here I am, knocked up with his baby.
“Ashy . . .” Gretchen’s voice is calming. “I know you’re a bit . . . umm . . . taken aback, honey, but Clara has the test results.” She turns to Clara. “Can you show them to her?”
Yes, I work in facts and results. I need to see them so I can see where the lab screwed up, and when I do, I will go and personally fire the idiot who did it. Then we will be back on track, and I can have number twenty’s baby and be just fine.
She hands over the lab work, and I sink into the chair. It shows blood HCG levels indicating a pregnancy.
I’m pregnant.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” I mutter.
“I know, but it’s okay. You’re pregnant, Ash. That’s wh
at you wanted, and I know it’s not the way you thought it would go, but at least it’s with someone you love.”
No, that’s what makes it worse. Now, I’ll always have a piece of Quinn, so even when he’s gone, which he is now, I’ll never be rid of him.
My heart sinks as despair washes over me. Tears start to fall as I look at my best friend. “Someone who will never love me back.”
“No, that’s not true, and you know it. He’s misguided, for sure, but he loves you.”
“Yeah, he has a funny way of showing it.”
Gretchen giggles. “Yeah, he got you a baby . . . that you didn’t even want with him. Best gift ever.”
I laugh without any humor. “We’ll see just how much of a gift he thinks it is.”
I hope he realizes there are no returns available on this one.
“What do you want to do tonight?” Gretchen asks as we’re snuggled on the couch.
Yesterday, I didn’t want to do a damn thing. I kept thinking about the little baby in my belly and how the hell I was going to tell Quinn about it.
It doesn’t feel like wrapping a “World’s Best Dad” hat is the best idea. I could just blurt it out and see how that goes or I could not tell him and lead him to believe that instead of getting the meds today, I got pregnant.
He would never know.
But I would, and there’s no way I could ever honestly do that.
“Who cares?”
She tosses a pillow at my head. “Knock it off. I haven’t seen you in how long? The least you could do is entertain me a bit.”
I flip her off. “Entertain this.”
“Can we at least call Catherine and tell her? That’ll at least be entertaining.”
“No.”
I’m not telling anyone, least of all her. She’ll tell Jackson, who will tell Mark, who will tell Natalie, who will tell Liam. Then, just like that, Quinn will know. Nope. We’re not even going down the rabbit hole of talking to anyone.
“I don’t want to sit in here and watch you mope. Let’s go see a movie or grab some food? We could always walk around the city and people watch . . .”
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