by Vivian Gray
The thought of taking care of a child threatened to overwhelm me. My childhood had been miserable. There had been highlights, sure. Previous moments spent with my mom that I would cherish forever. But there had also been plenty of shit moments.
Could I really do a better job than my parents had? Could I offer a better life to my child than the one I’d been given? Kenna and I were both broken people. We came from poor homes where we’d had to grow up way too fast. Would we even be capable of giving a child a normal life?
For some reason I couldn’t explain, an overwhelming calmness settled in my chest. For the first time, I felt like I could do this. It was almost as if my mom was standing behind me, her hand on my shoulder.
You can do this, son.
And for the first time in as long as I could remember, I lowered my head into my arms and cried.
Chapter Fourteen
Kenna
It was still dark when I woke up, but when I looked through the window, I could just see the orange hints of sunrise on the horizon. The bed next to me was mussed where Trigger had been sleeping, but the room was empty. We still hadn’t talked about the baby, so I didn’t know whether he’d snuck out in the middle of the night, too freaked out by everything to stick around, or whether he was just in the other room. Honestly, I wasn’t sure which option would be worse.
Part of me wanted to talk things through with him, but another part of me was still too exhausted to care. The last twenty-four hours had been a nightmare that I wanted to forget, and I did not want to have to add having a terrible conversation with Trigger to the pile. If he told me he couldn’t be a dad, that I would have to do everything alone, I didn’t know if I’d be able to handle that.
I ran my hands across my flat stomach and prayed the baby was safe. It was still too early for much of anything to be picked up by an ultrasound machine, and even if something were wrong, there would be nothing anyone could do. The only thing I could do was wait it out and hope things progressed normally.
So, in an effort not to dwell on the health of my baby or on the potential conversation I’d have to have with Trigger soon, I got out of bed and went immediately into the shower. It felt incredible to wash the night off of me. I turned the water on hotter than necessary to burn away any reminder of Buzz’s hands on my skin.
Water ran down my legs in dusty, black rivers and coated the bottom of the shower. I lathered my hair with shampoo and conditioner and then did it again purely because it felt so good to be clean.
When I stepped out of the shower, the bathroom was foggy, and I had to use my hand to wipe a space in the mirror. I brushed my teeth and ran a comb through my tangled hair until it hung in a wet curtain. I played around with the idea of putting makeup on but decided against it. There was no point because I had zero intention of leaving the house again.
Instead, I swiped a tinted lip balm across my lips and spritzed myself with a vanilla-scented perfume. I stood in front of my closet for all of one minute before deciding I wanted to spend the day in my pajamas. So, I put on my gray cotton pajama shorts that had been worn thin from years of use and a scoop neck matching pocket tee.
Finally, I took a deep breath and ventured out into the rest of the house, ready for whatever the next few hours would bring. When Trigger had carried me into the house, I’d seen my mom asleep on the couch, but she wasn’t there anymore. I turned around and noticed her door was shut and figured she must have woken up and gone to her own bedroom. The living room was empty, and panic fluttered quickly in my chest. Had Trigger really left?
I turned the corner into the kitchen and saw him. I was about to sigh with relief when I realized he was hunched forward, head buried in his arms, and his shoulders were shaking. Was he crying? It felt bizarre to even think it. Trigger had always been cold, detached. He rarely smiled, let alone cried. But there was no denying it.
“Trigger?”
Immediately, he bolted upright, his face turned towards the stove. I saw him swipe at his face, and my heart broke a little.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, fine,” he said, shrugging his shoulders and turning to face me. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot. It didn’t look like he’d slept at all. “How are you feeling?”
“Much better,” I said, turning my head to the side, trying to study him. “What are you doing?”
He pushed a pile of envelopes together and then tucked them into the pocket of his jacket. “Just taking care of a few things. Did you sleep well?”
“Trigger.” I moved across the kitchen and took the seat next to him. “Are you okay?”
He laughed nervously and waved me away. “Long night. I’m fine.”
Finally, I decided to be direct. “Why were you crying?”
His shoulders slouched, and I could tell he didn’t want to talk about it. He’d probably assumed I’d be asleep well into the morning and thought he had the house to himself, but I had always been an early riser. And working three jobs meant that I had learned to run on surprisingly little sleep.
“I was just thinking about everything,” he said vaguely, folding his hands in front of him and staring down at them.
“Like?”
He looked up at me, his eyes glassy and sad. “You’re pregnant.”
I nodded and gave him a small smile. “I’m afraid so.”
Immediately, he reached out and grabbed my hands in both of his and pulled them towards his chest. “It’s good news, Kenna.”
“It is?” I asked. Since finding out I was pregnant, I had come to terms with it and decided I wanted to keep the baby, but it still didn’t exactly feel like good news.
Trigger nodded. “I think so, don’t you?”
“Honestly, not really. I don’t know if I can do this,” I admitted, finally saying what I’d been thinking for days. “I can barely take care of myself and my mom. I don’t know how I’ll add a baby to the mix.”
“I’ll help you.” Trigger said the words easily, as though it was always going to be that way, as if it wasn’t news that he was going to stick around.
I stared at him, blinking a few times in surprise. “You’re going to stay?”
He squeezed my hands tighter and nodded. “Yes, absolutely. I want to be here for you. For whatever you need.”
A mix between a sob and a laugh burst out of me, and I lowered my head into my arms, shaking it from side to side, unable to believe what was happening. I had spent so long preparing myself for the worst, that I wasn’t at all prepared for the good news.
“I wasn’t sure at first,” Trigger continued, rubbing his hands up and down my arms as I cried and laughed and stared at him in awe. “I didn’t know what I was going to do, but then I almost lost you, and I knew I never wanted to feel like that again.”
I grabbed his hand and kissed his knuckles. “Thank you,” I said, realizing I’d never said it before. “For coming after me, for saving me. For being here when I woke up.”
Trigger smiled at me, and then it faltered around the edges. “I’m going to warn you, Kenna, I’m not sure I’ll be a very good boyfriend, and I’m even less sure I’ll be a good dad. I’ve never done this before, and I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve spent most of my life avoiding commitments and relationships.”
“The fact that you are still here means you are better than the majority of men. The fact that you want to try means the world to me.”
“I do,” he said, his eyes focused on mine. “I want to try. I’ve wanted to be with you since the moment I saw you. I tried my best to fight it, to push you away, but no matter what I did, I couldn’t get you out of my head. That was why I didn’t answer your calls. Because I knew that no matter what I wanted to do, I’d go to you if you needed me. I’d drop everything and be there for you, and that scared me. It scared me so much, Kenna. It still does.”
I scooted my chair closer to his, our legs intertwined, his hand pressed against my cheek.
“I never thought I’d have children. I had a b
ad childhood and a bad home life, and I didn’t want to pass that on to someone else, but with you, I feel like we could make a good home for our baby. I feel like we can make a better life together.”
Tears rose up and spilled onto my cheeks. Trigger was saying everything I’d ever wanted to hear. The deepest desires of my heart were pouring out of his mouth. Someone to love me, someone to be there when I got home from work, someone to share the stresses of life with. But also, someone to experience joy with, to laugh with and wake up next to.
“I think so, too,” I said through the tears. “I don’t know how to do this alone, but I’ve always felt safe with you. The idea of being somebody’s mom is still terrifying, but it feels more manageable with you by my side.”
Trigger reached out and ran his hand across my stomach, a small smile pulling his lips up at the corners. “I love you, Kenna.”
My heart stopped at his words. My eyes widened, and I just stared at him, experiencing more shock from that single statement than from anything else that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. He was biting his lower lip, his square jaw working nervously, and I took a moment to admire him. His tan skin, the delicate tattoos that crept up his arms and around his neck, the thick line of his brow and the way his forehead wrinkled when he was nervous.
“I love you, too,” I said, surprising myself.
I hadn’t realized how much I’d been denying my feelings until then. I’d kept telling myself that I wasn’t looking for anything serious, that I’d be happy if Trigger just wanted to hang out with me. But then, I’d gotten pregnant, and I was afraid I wouldn’t even get that much from him. So, I’d pushed my feelings down even further, focusing all my energy on the baby.
But now, with his admission and the promise that he would be there for me and the baby, everything had come bubbling up. Of course I loved him. Even from the beginning when he was trying to push me away, I knew there was gentleness beneath the hard surface. I knew he cared much more deeply than he let on, and now, I was lucky enough to see it firsthand. He loved me, and I loved him.
“I love you so much.”
Trigger’s eyes widened and then his pupils blew wide. He looked like he’d just taken a hit of his drug of choice. Before I could even react, he had stood up and taken me with him. Our bodies were pressed together, his breath hot and heavy against my skin. And then, he was kissing me.
***
Trigger
I couldn’t remember the walk back to Kenna’s bedroom, but we must have moved there because suddenly, she was laying on the bed and I was hovering over her, my hands on either side of her head. Her hair was still damp from her shower, and she smelled like vanilla and soap.
I leaned down and kissed the delicate line of her jaw all the way up to her ear. When I sucked on the lobe, she groaned and ran her fingers through my hair.
“I love you,” I repeated, enjoying the feeling of the words on my tongue. I had never said them before. At least, not to anyone I was in a relationship with, but it felt easy with Kenna.
She placed her hands on either side of my face and held me directly in front of her.
“Then show me,” she whispered, her lips parted.
A shiver raced down my spine, and I quickly set to work doing just that. She had come into the kitchen wearing nothing but a skimpy set of cotton pajamas, and it was maddening that she truly had no idea the kind of effect she could have on men. Her long legs were thin but shapely, and her chest strained against the thin cotton material.
Now, my fingers were finally able to do what they’d ached to do. I slipped my hands beneath the hem of her shirt and ran them up the flat plane of her stomach. It was crazy to think she would begin to show in the next few months, that the baby I’d put inside of her would fill out her thin frame. It was also incredibly sexy.
I lifted her shirt and kissed around her belly button and up across her ribs. She didn’t have a bra on, so I let my hands cup her warm breasts and then swirled my fingers around her nipples until they pebbled at my touch. She arched her back and moaned.
My body was over hers as my lips replaced my fingers, kissing the smooth flesh of her breasts. My fingers, now free, wandered back down her midsection to the hem of her shorts. I slipped beneath the waistband easily and ran a finger across the lace material of her panties. She was warm, and I could tell she was already wet and ready.
I massaged her slit, moving up and down in an achingly slow rhythm until her hips were rocking in time with my hand. Then I pushed her panties aside and continued the movement.
“Yes, Trigger,” Kenna moaned, speaking so softly it didn’t even seem as if her lips had moved.
I was straining uncomfortably against my jeans, and Kenna must have either sensed it or been able to feel me against her thigh because she unbuttoned my jeans, slid her hand inside the waistband, and wrapped her hand around me. Her hand was warm and soft, and I twitched as her fingers readjusted around my size.
As I slipped a finger inside of her, Kenna massaged her hand down my length. I pulsed in an out of her, and she matched my rhythm. I sped up and slowed down, bringing both of us near the edge and then pulling back. It was unbelievably hot and maddening. I added another finger and Kenna’s mouth parted. She exhaled softly, but still matched my thrusts. I added a third finger, and I felt her hand slip slightly. She was losing it.
“It’s okay, baby,” I said, whispering against her neck. “Let me make you feel good.”
She pulled her hand out of my pants and lifted both arms above her head. Her face was turned to the side and buried in the sheets, her eyes squeezed shut as I curled my fingers inside of her and slowly pulled out. Then I used my thumb to circle around her most sensitive part, and her hips bucked upwards.
“Oh, yes,” she moaned, hissing as I made tighter and tighter circles, refusing to let up. “Trigger, Trigger, yes, please,” she said, her voice breathy and begging.
I slipped my fingers out of her, but before she could complain, I slid down her body and kissed her slit. She lifted her hips against my mouth, opening herself to me, and I plunged my tongue inside of her. I sucked and licked until her hips were practically vibrating, until her hands were tangled in the sheets, until she was cursing under her breath and rolling her body from side to side, both trying to get closer to my mouth and escape me. Then, she released, and it was beautiful.
All at once, her body tensed and then let go. Her arms fell out to her sides, her thighs unclamped from around my ears, and her hips settled back into the mattress. Her stomach tensed and quivered, and she let out a sigh. A smile spread across her face, her eyes still closed.
“Oh my God,” she moaned, finally looking down at me over the curve of her own body. “You’re incredible.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head, crawling over her, and then flopping down next to her on the bed. “You are incredible, Kenna. Absolutely beautiful.”
Her wet hair had begun to dry in loose waves, and her cheeks were flushed with her orgasm.
She pursed her lips and rolled onto her side, looking up at me.
“Your turn.”
Before I could even think about what she’d said, I was on my back with Kenna hovering over me. She leaned down and planted a kiss on my forehead and then my nose. She skipped over my lips, though I stretched up to meet her, and kissed my chin. Then, with a wicked smile, she kissed a line straight down my torso, lifting the hem of my shirt up to reveal my abs, and then kept moving south until her hand slipped inside my jeans and pulled out my length.
She looked up at me and licked her lips, not in a sexy way, but a nervous way, and it was adorable. I reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She smiled and then took me in her mouth. My hand fell down to the bed, and I squeezed my eyes closed. Desire was a knotted-up ball in my stomach, clenched tight, but with every stroke, it eased, stretching outward in warm ribbons.
She went down and then came up slowly, sucking the entire time. When she reached the tip, her tongu
e swirled and then she began again. I stayed still as long as I could, but then my hips began to buck upwards into her mouth, desperate for more of her. For all of her.
Sensing my urgency, and maybe responding to an urgency of her own, Kenna moved back off the bed until she was standing at the end and pulled my jeans off one leg at a time. Slowly, she lifted her cotton shirt over her head, her arms stretching above her, so her chest was on full display.
Then, she stepped out of her shorts, eyes locked on mine the entire time like it was a kind of challenge. As quick as I could, I pulled my shirt over my head and threw it off the side of the bed.