The Enemy Trap

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The Enemy Trap Page 8

by Maren Moore


  "Fuck," I curse, flopping down onto my bed and wincing when I hit my shoulder. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I sit upright abruptly when I see Sophia's name on the screen as a missed call. I quickly call her back, listening to the dial tone until her sweet as fuck voice comes through the line

  "Hi, Hayes." I wish I could see her face as she says my name.

  "St. James, to what do I owe the pleasure?" I tease. Like I haven't been waiting by the phone like a lovesick fool for the past week.

  "I'm calling to let you know I...I decided. I made a decision. Regarding...the, you know."

  I laugh before responding, "You sayin' you wanna marry me?" I couldn't pass up the opportunity to fuck with her, but she'll likely have my balls for it.

  She scoffs, but I can practically see her cheeks heating through the phone with that adorable blush, "Don't make me change my mind about this Hayes. It's not just ourselves that we have to think of anymore—it's also our child."

  "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. So, you'll be my fake fiancé?"

  "Yes. On two conditions," she says.

  "I wouldn't expect anything less, St. James."

  She pauses, then I hear her sigh through the phone. "If you do anything out of line, I mean anything, Hayes, I'm gone. I won't be embarrassed or made a fool of by you getting caught with puck bunnies. I will not be cheated on. Even if this is fake. I’m making sacrifices for you, and I think you can sacrifice that for me. I…It’s a hard limit for me."

  I remember our conversation on the boat, when she let it slip that the last jackass she was with cheated on her, and Holly told me how much it messed her up. I’m a dick, but I wouldn’t ever purposefully hurt her.

  "Done. I have no interest in anyone for the foreseeable future. I'm focusing on healing my shoulder, staying out of the limelight, and taking care of the baby."

  "Two, we have to figure out some way to coexist, happily, for the sake of the baby."

  Fuck, she's going to lose it when I suggest this, but of all the scenarios I ran through in my head, this is the best one. It keeps them both safe and me from going crazy....

  "Hear me out, Sophia..." I pause, waiting for her to speak but she doesn't, surprising me. "Move to Seattle. I know, it's not exactly a five-minute ride from home, but I have a house with plenty of space for you both. And I'll get to be active and present in the pregnancy. Listen...I know you don't owe me anything and you hate me, but I want to be a good father, Sophia."

  "So, I should just pack my life up and move in with you? That's crazy, Hayes."

  "I didn't say it wasn't, but yes. We're having a baby together, and if I could pack up and move I would, but I have to be in Seattle for my job. Even if I have to take this year off, I would just have to come back the next year. I want to be able to support you in any way that I can."

  When I talked to Scott and Holly about my plan, they said I was crazy...but that she had just recently quit her job, and it might work in my favor some.

  "This is crazy," she says again, but this time...it sounds like she might just be talking herself into it.

  I’m not much of a praying man, but at this moment...I pray that she decides to pick her life up and move in here, because I don't want to miss a single damn moment. It's true, what they say, that your life can change in the blink of an eye.

  "What about a job?" she asks.

  "You're pregnant. Your only job should be taking care of you and the baby. I mean, if you want a job, I'm sure you could find something, but it's not necessary. We can use this time to get to know each other and learn how to coparent."

  "Okay."

  "Really?" I ask.

  "Yes. My father...he was never part of my life. I hated growing up without him. I always had questions for my mother, and I thought he didn't love me. I don't ever want my child to question that or wonder why her father isn't near."

  Her.

  "That was easier than I expected. Wow." I laugh.

  "Don't push your luck. I'm actually starting to feel a little nauseous at the thought of having to see you twenty-four seven, so I'll talk to you soon."

  "I'll take care of everything St. James, don't worry."

  "That's the part that worries me."

  Twelve

  Sophia

  12 Weeks

  "Alright, I think that's everything." Scott says, closing the tailgate of his truck. He pulls tighter on the straps that are holding down the boxes from my tiny apartment.

  If you would've said to me three months ago that I'd be packing up my apartment to move to Seattle, I would've told you that you were insane, and that I was never leaving my hot pink, velvet couch or the apartment that I adore.

  But, if you would've told me that it would be because I was pregnant with Hayes Davis's child and moving into his mansion, I probably would've laughed until I cried, then kicked you out.

  Blasphemy.

  But, here I am. Packing up everything I own—including my couch, because it was non-negotiable—and moving into a mansion with the man I could hardly stand to be in the same room with. Did I particularly want to do this?

  Of course not. I'd rather get a Brazilian every day for the next year than to do this. I place my hand over my non-existent bump and think of the life growing inside of me. The choices I make from this point on are for her, not for me.

  And that's what happens when you sleep with the enemy. There are literally movies about this very thing, yet somehow, I still ended up here.

  I groan inwardly. I can do this.

  It’s the same pep talk I've been giving myself over and over since the decision was made.

  "Wow, I can't believe you're actually doing this," Holly says walking up to the truck and leaning against the side.

  "Me either. I don't foresee this lasting long, so hopefully Scott doesn't give me too much shit when I call him to come pick me and all my crap up." I’m joking, but also not really. Sort of. Ultimately, I decided to move in with Hayes because he deserves the chance to be a father, and it’s not exactly like I have a ton of things keeping me here in my hometown. If anything, I want out. And although not what I expected or anticipated in the least, here I am.

  Holly throws her head back, laughing, "You two will be fine. You'll figure it out. Parenting is hard, and there's no handbook for it. You'll lean on each other more than you know to get through it. You're strong, Soph. You're resilient and one of the best people I know. You're going to be an amazing mother, and I think that this thing with Hayes is going to work out much better than you think."

  Tears well in my eyes, and I blame it on the stupid hormones coursing through my body, but the truth is, I’m so thankful for Holly and Scott and the makeshift family we’ve made over the years. They’ve been by my side through rough times, and as I'm embarking on the next chapter of my life, as unconventional as it may be, I'm so thankful that I have them.

  She sees the tears and her face crumples, "Aww babe. No tears, okay? You got this. You're only going to be a couple of hours away, and I'll come visit as much as I can. Plus, you can always come home. And just think, once we find out what baby Davis is, we get to shop!" She squeals and pulls me into her arms in a tight, comforting hug.

  "I know, I know. It's just change, you know? Like, it's such a turning point in life. I feel like I blinked and all of the sudden I'm fake engaged and very really pregnant."

  "Ladies, are we ready, or are we going to cry some more? Hayes has movers meeting us at the house. Chop chop!" Scott calls out the window of his truck, where he's been patiently waiting.

  "Let's go. Time to start your new life, Cinderella. Rags to riches." Holly teases.

  "Yeah, but the couch is coming with me no matter where I go."

  She laughs and pulls me towards the truck, "I'm sure Hayes loves hot pink. I think it'll really blend in with the rest of his house."

  Even better, I think.

  "Wow," Holly breathes, hopping down out of the truck. "Holy shit. I always forget how ridiculous this
house is until I’m here. And it’s every bit of the Hayes Davis I know. " She laughs.

  "Tell me about it. But because I have the worst luck imaginable, my room is directly across the hall from his. Like there aren't probably ten rooms in the rest of the house he could've put me in."

  "I think it's cute that he's being all…protective. At least you aren't arguing like children anymore."

  She smirks.

  Hayes chooses that time to open the front door and walk out. Something deep in my stomach swirls at the sight of him. Probably morning sickness that turned into afternoon sickness.

  Keep lying to yourself, St. James. I can practically hear his voice inside my head.

  The old shirt he's wearing is cut from under the arm to his waist, revealing the muscles on his hips that cause me to shiver. In gym shorts and old tennis shoes, he looks relaxed and happy, two things that look too good on him. Maybe I can also blame the sudden, undeniable attraction to my baby daddy on hormones, because Hayes Davis has never looked this good.

  Ugh, I've been here for all of five minutes, and I'm already referring to him as my "baby daddy." I mean seriously, does the guy have to look that good in just a t-shirt and gym shorts?

  "Hi, Sophia." He smiles warmly, pulling me in for a completely platonic hug.

  "Hi."

  No sarcastic, egotistical comments?

  He and Scott get busy unloading the truck, leaving Holly and me to sit in his patio furniture on the front porch and watch as they do all of the hard, manual labor.

  "All we need are mimosas, virgin, of course, for the preggo, and we'd be set." Holly laughs, propping her feet up on the ottoman.

  "Don't remind me. I miss wine. And it's only been like five minutes."

  Piece by piece, they bring in all of the boxes and the small amount of furniture that I decided to bring with me to Seattle. It feels strange moving into a house with someone I hardly know—especially when, what I do know, I despise. Add in the fact that I only have a few of my own belongings to bring with me, and it’s uncomfortable from the start. When they make it to the bright pink couch, Hayes stops, scratching his head, then strolls back over to me.

  "Uh, Soph."

  I grin.

  "Yes, Hayes?"

  He looks back and forth between me and my hot pink piece of baggage.

  "You know, I have every piece of furniture that you could ever need here. And...I'm just not sure that this will really go with the um, decor."

  I almost let my mask drop and break out into laughter, but I decide to let him suffer for a little while longer.

  "What, you don't like it?" I feign hurt, placing my hand on my chest with a pained look in my eyes.

  His eyes widen in alarm, "No, no. That's not it, I just..."

  Holly breaks before I do, throwing her head back and laughing so loud it echoes off the front porch. "You are the biggest suck up. That couch stays, or she goes. Trust me. It took me two weeks of convincing, and I still couldn't get her to get rid of it."

  "Nonnegotiable for me, Davis."

  "Fine. But can it go in the basement?"

  "Sure."

  He and Scott unload the couch and disappear from view.

  "How long were you going to let him go for?" Holly asks, her eyes bright with mischievousness.

  "A while." I grin.

  "That's it. You're officially moved into Casa Davis," Hayes says as our friends pull out of the driveway.

  Which means, we're alone. We’re officially roommates having a child together. The entire scenario is strange, and it's definitely going to take some getting used to, but I appreciate his effort. It showed when he allowed my ten-dollar hot pink Goodwill couch to make the move.

  "So, I got this baby book on Amazon," he starts, catching my gaze.

  I can't stop my jaw dropping in surprise. Hayes got a...book? About babies?

  "You are reading a parenting book?"

  "Don't sound so surprised. I actually love to read."

  Okay, I can't even picture him with a book, let alone reading it.

  "Sorry," I laugh. "I'm just shocked. What did you read in this baby book?"

  He stands up and walks over to the bar in the kitchen, where he grabs a thick book with an infant on the cover and holds it up for me to see.

  "Babies start hearing things around eighteen weeks, in the second trimester. How cool is that? I was thinking we could get some headphones and play some Nirvana."

  My eyes widen before the laugh escapes, "Nirvana, Hayes? Really?"

  "What? They're a classic. Every kid should know Nirvana. And Pearl Jam."

  "Okay, how about we start with the actual classics, like Mozart and Beethoven?”

  He shrugs, "Fine with me. But, Nirvana eventually."

  "Maybe when she's a teenager."

  "You're pretty dead set on it being a girl, huh?"

  Biting my lip, I place my hand over my stomach before I answer him, "I think so. But I could be wrong."

  "I know things are still...adjusting between us, but...thank you, Sophia. For giving me a chance to be a father." The sincerity in his voice and devotion in his eyes make me misty-eyed, and this time I know it's the pregnancy hormones. It’s hard to forgive, and forgiving him for the past—for the insecurity he placed deep within my heart—is hard. I can’t forget, but I want to work to forgive him. For our child.

  "She’s your daughter too. You deserve the chance as much as I do, Hayes."

  He nods, extending the book towards me, and I take it with a small smile.

  It's like a proverbial olive branch. A truce of sorts between the two of us. After all, we're doing the most challenging thing two people can do together—raising a baby, which neither of us have any idea how to do. Now more than ever, I have to leave the past behind in order to move forward.

  The next few days pass surprisingly uneventfully. I expected things between Hayes and me to be awkward and strained as we learned to coexist together, but they aren't. They’re the opposite, actually.

  Hayes goes out of his way to make me feel comfortable and doesn’t push when he feels I need space. I’m adjusting to a new environment and a new life. Although, it doesn’t help that in my first days in close proximity with Hayes, I’m horny, hormonal, and hating him even more than usual. I can’t help this…attraction for him, and I’m honestly tired of him walking around looking so… delicious. It’s unfair.

  "Hayes," I call from the kitchen.

  "Coming." He rounds the corner and strides into the room, his hair wet and curling around his temples like he's just come fresh from the shower. I try desperately not to picture him in the shower, the water dripping down his hard, toned body, his-

  "What's up, baby mama?"

  His light eyes are shining with...something I can't place, yet something so familiar. Like he knows exactly what just crossed my mind.

  Three days and I’ve already begun learning things about him that I never expected to. Like how he takes his coffee—black. That he's actually extreme about his health and what he puts into his body. My Toaster Strudel looks out of place next to his boxes of vegan, low fat food and almond milk.

  Honestly, who drinks fake milk?

  No wonder his abs look like they were photoshopped onto his body. Great, I’m going to end up a beached whale next to the literal Sexiest Man Alive.

  I huff, blowing the bangs that have fallen free from the messy top knot on my head out of my face, "I've been trying to get this jar open for twenty minutes. Can you help?"

  "Your wish is my command." He grins, turning my insides to mush.

  Hayes is dangerous. For my head and my heart.

  In just a few days, I've almost forgotten why I even hated him in the first place, and that wouldn't do either of us any good. I made sure to remind myself that I was simply a responsibility he had to take on, and that he would eventually realize that the baby and I were going to cramp his style.

  It’s easier to paint him as the villain I had always thought he was than the s
emi-decent person he seems to actually be. The further I push him away, the safer my heart is, and I’m prepared to protect it at any cost.

  "What would you do without my strong, capable hands?"

  I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest, wincing as I brush against my overly sensitive breasts. The past few days since moving in have been torture. I’m sore, achy, and more turned on than I’ve ever been in my life.

  "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing," I squeak, my voice coming out more of a throaty whisper than I intended.

  "You're a shit liar, St. James."

  He prowls closer, still clutching the jar of spicy pickles I had been desperate to open only moments before. I notice that the jar is small in his massive hands, and then my mind wanders to what he could actually do with those strong...capable hands.

  I groan inwardly, pushing all thoughts of Hayes from my mind. Or at least that's what I tell myself.

  The air around us shifts, and his stare turns molten. I feel it all the way to my toes, tingling, twisting, and turning the pit of my stomach, then lower until my thighs clench together to slow the ache forming there.

  "I…am not."

  He's so close now, I instinctively grab onto the counter behind me, gripping it for dear life. So close that when he laughs at my lie, I feel a drop of water from his freshly showered hair fall onto my cheek.

  "Is there something I can help you with, Sophia?"

  His hoarse, raspy voice sends a shot straight to the ache between my thighs.

  God, I am so screwed. How am I supposed to resist this man with the amount of hormones I have coursing through my body?

  He has a very unfair advantage, and I’m surely going to lose this war between us.

  "What are you implying, Hayes?" I ask.

  He shrugs, stepping closer, putting the jar down on the counter, and gripping the countertop on each side of me. Caging me in completely. I have no escape.

 

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