Forbidden Baby Daddy: A Secret Baby Romance

by Lara Swann

  The thought of maybe actually doing this. Of the argument being done just like that.

  He nods, sitting there with an air of benign graciousness that doesn’t even put me off.

  “But.” He adds, holding my gaze in a way that makes my heart sink as I wait for the catch. “If this doesn’t work out, Chloe, if it doesn’t go anywhere and that exhibition at the end doesn’t lead to anything - I want you to promise me you’ll reconsider how far you’re willing to take this. That you’ll consider putting your savings to other, better uses and start thinking about a different future.”

  I swallow. The thought of doing that is almost too painful to consider - to bury all this away and abandon the very thing that I wake up for in the morning - but…it’s not an unfair request. I understand why he’s asking for it, even if it’s so hard just to think about.

  Once again, I feel guilty for ever thinking so badly of him - for doubting, for listening too much to someone like Nat who just doesn’t understand. I might feel like Dad isn’t supportive sometimes, but it’s totally unfair of me to think he doesn’t care, when he’s just trying to look out for me, in his own way.

  I look back up at him, and even though it’s tough, after a moment I nod.

  He’s right. He’s got years of experience on me and I shouldn’t dismiss his advice so casually. Maybe if this doesn’t work out, it’s worth thinking about things and reassessing a little - working out how long I’m willing to commit myself to trying for this.

  “Okay.” I finally say, agreeing. “If it doesn’t work out, I promise I’ll think about it.”

  He smiles again, warmly, and I finally let myself relax into the idea this is actually resolved. Things aren’t bad between us anymore.

  “Good. Then I’ll work out things with the shop.”

  Just like that, it’s settled. All this tension, the arguments, the frustration…gone.

  The feeling of relief overwhelms me - followed swiftly by a fierce joy as I realize I’m actually going to be able to do this. Everything we just talked about, the seriousness of the idea of abandoning my dream completely, it all fades away as that realization sweeps through me.

  I finally smile myself, and I can’t help it, it spreads right across my face. I stand up and move around the desk, reaching down to hug him tightly.

  “Thank you, Dad. I mean it, it’s…I really appreciate it. I promise, I’ll make the most of this chance. I’m going to do everything I can.”

  He smiles tolerantly back at me, but I barely register his expression as I almost skip out of the room, already thinking about all the supplies I’ll need, what it might be like, what I should practice in the few weeks I have before it starts—

  I pause at the door, turning around belatedly.

  “And I’m sorry too, about everything I said. I didn’t mean it. I was wrong - I know you care, Dad, I know you want what’s best for me. And I promise, this is it.”

  He nods. “That’s okay, Chloe. Let’s put it all behind us, hm?”

  I nod, giving him another smile before I slip out of the room.

  I walk back to my bedroom feeling elated - and more than a little bit guilty. Everything I thought and felt yesterday just seems unfair now that that turned out to be so easy. I don’t know why I react so strongly to these things - why I start thinking the worst of Mom and Dad - when they’re really just worried about me.

  I sigh as I close the door behind me, leaning back against it. With the thought of everything to come now, the emotions of yesterday and everything that happened seems like a blur. Some strange, hazy, mystical thing that might have happened to someone else instead.

  I feel bad about that too - for so deliberately flouting my parents’ wishes and everything I’d promised them - for everything I’ve done that they don’t know about. Heat still flushes through me when I think of Ash and everything we did together, but I think back to what Nat said earlier, and I can’t help thinking that maybe it’s better this way.

  I can’t regret anything I did - it was too good for that, too much an experience I’m grateful for - but maybe I regret the way I did it, a little. But whatever it is, or was, it’s happened now - it’s done.

  And going forward, I’ve got so much else to focus on.

  A grin slowly spreads across my face as I think about it all, excitement flowing through me.

  Even the thought of what I promised Dad doesn’t diminish any of it.

  It’s not going to come to that.

  This is my chance to prove him wrong about it.

  I’ll show them both that this isn’t just a hobby - it’s not some crazy dream.

  I’m actually going to make it happen.

  I’m going to go to that exhibition at the end…and I’m going to get noticed.

  Chapter Six

  Ash

  “Hey!”

  The shout comes over the noise of the welder in my hand, the metal under me crackling and hissing as I work on the custom frame I’ve been commissioned for. I pause, carefully easing off in a safe manner and putting the welder in a bracket to the side before removing the mask in front of my face, blinking several times.

  When I finally look up, I see Blake’s sheepish grin in front of me. I can’t have heard him come in over the noise and intensity of what I was just doing.

  “Sorry, bro, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  I blink again, taking a step back and shaking off the remnants of white and blue in my vision as I shrug.

  “S’okay.” I run a hand through my hair. “Probably needed the break anyway.”

  I walk over to the counter, picking up a can of soda and downing half of it before turning and propping myself against it, looking back at him with a sigh, some of the tension from the focus needed for the job sliding off me.

  “What can I do for you?”

  “Just thought I’d swing by.” He shrugs, giving me a sidelong glance. “Haven’t seen you around for a while.”

  I shrug. “Yeah, been busy.”

  I give the response casually, even though I’m aware that it’s more of an excuse than anything. He’s right - it’s been a few weeks now, maybe a month. I’m not sure whether it’s been entirely conscious or not, but I just haven’t felt like hanging around the same crowd recently.

  Part of it is simply how we left it last time - my uncomfortable awareness that they’ve got something going on that I’d like to avoid being around at all - and my hope that maybe if I distance myself for a while, that will all be cleared up by the time I do show my face again.

  But it’s more than that too…I just haven’t been interested. It’s made me think that maybe I should start trying to branch out a little. I get the feeling sometimes that I’m not the same person I used to be and that maybe the rest of the club still is…and maybe that group doesn’t fit quite so well anymore.

  Every so often, I start thinking it wouldn’t hurt to meet some new people, find some other crowds that might fit me better these days. Only I don’t exactly know how to do that.

  I’ve been to a few other bars, spent some time in other places - but nothing much has come of it, so mostly, I’ve just been keeping to myself - me, the bikes and my shop still makes a pretty good time.

  “Right.” Blake says, glancing round again. “Shop looks good.”

  “Yeah.” I can’t help smiling as I take a look around myself, seeing the bikes stacked up against the walls, waiting for various work. “Yeah, it’s doing well.”

  Business is starting to pick up - I’ve had more people interested, coming by to talk about things they want done, seeing what I can offer them. More work is coming in, and yeah…I’m pleased. It’s exactly what I want.

  “Awesome, bro. You’ve really made something of yourself, huh?”

  “I’m trying.” I say with a smile, as he claps me on the back.

  “Good for you.”

  “How’s things with you?” I ask in turn.

  Not much really changes with Blake, but I figure he’ll l
et me know anything I might have missed with the whole gang.

  “Good, real good actually. That job I told you about - that’s coming together real nicely - we got all the people we need—”

  “Blake—”

  He obviously doesn’t hear the warning in my tone, or he ignores it, too caught up in what he’s saying.

  “I think it might be my way up, you know? I could really make my mark - I’m almost one of the old crowd now, with all the newbies we’re bringing on board. We’re getting bigger, Ash, it’s an exciting time - won’t be long before everyone’s heard of the Eastern Slayers.” He grins at me, but my stomach sinks.

  That’s exactly the thing I’m worried about.

  “Right.” I say, trying to keep it non-committal.

  I can see his excitement, and he is my friend - I want to be supportive and encouraging. Or at the very least, not totally negative. It matters to me that he’s happy - that he gets what he wants. I might not want to talk about it or hear the details, but I can listen to his dreams, the way he always listened to my talk of starting this place up. I just wish he’d choose a different dream.

  “And it’s good, you know, you don’t need to worry about being roped in to help out—”

  “Blake, I was never going to—”

  “Yeah, I know, but we’ve got the guys now, so it’s cool.” He says, sounding largely oblivious, and I frown. “But you know, we were wondering about something else.”

  I stare at him, incredulous. Is it really coming back to this? Again?

  That’s why he showed up like this? The stupid fucking job?

  He seems to take my stunned silence for consent to continue, and he slaps me on the back again. I’m sure it’s not to him, but it feels a whole lot less friendly than it did a few minutes again.

  “Basically, we just need somewhere to—well, it would just be helpful to have a place.” He says, obviously trying to skirt around it. “To put some things. For a little while. Somewhere unconnected from anything else.”

  He looks meaningfully around us and I almost recoil back from him, absolutely appalled at the insinuation.

  “Blake.” I say, biting it out. “I’m not getting involved. In anything. No fucking way—”

  “It wouldn’t be for long - you wouldn’t even notice. Don’t even have to be here. If you have a spare key lying around then maybe—”

  “Fuck off. You’re not using my fucking shop for your—your—” I stumble, unable to say the words that are on both of our minds. I’m not naming what they’re doing out loud. Not here. Not anywhere.

  “Yeah, well…” He looks around, rubbing at the back of his neck slightly awkwardly. “We just thought—considering how you got the place—that maybe—”

  My head whips around to look at him and I step back, feeling far too close to taking a swing at someone whose meant to be one of my closest friends. I’m on edge and angry - furious - and I can’t stand here and listen to another word of this.

  “It’s my shop, Blake.” I say, my voice dangerous as I stare him down. He can’t hold my gaze for more than a moment. “It was my own fucking hard work that got me this place - I got it with the risks I took. My life on the line. I fucking earned it, and don’t you - or anyone else - dare say otherwise. I don’t owe shit to anyone else for it - none of you.”

  He steps back, hands in the air. “Okay, okay, I just thought—”

  “Whose fucking side are you on, anyway?” I grind out, more angry than I can tell.

  He knows how I feel. I’ve made it more than clear. I told him what I thought of this last time, and now he comes back around?

  What. The. Fuck.

  “Hey, bro, look I’m sorry - I’m just the messenger, okay?” He shakes his head, standing there looking somewhere between amped-up and awkward.

  “Why bother when you know my fucking answer?”

  He lets out a long breath. “I got to, bro, you know that.”

  I hold his gaze for a long time, my eyes hard, before I finally look away. Yeah. I know how the club works. I know how Jared runs it.

  “Get out.” I finally say, more quietly this time. “I don’t want anymore to do with any of you until this thing is done - and you can tell Jared I said that any time he suggests you come back here asking for favors. Don’t come back ‘round here until it’s over - got that?”

  Blake gives me a long look, his face unreadable, before he finally nods. He turns to leave without another word and I just stand there, still on edge, every muscle tense with the need for action - the need to do something.

  A minute after I hear the door shut behind him, it snaps inside me and I turn, grabbing a wrench off the counter and throwing it hard against the door he just came through. It misses, hitting the wall and clanging to the floor but I don’t care as I gasp for breath, still seeing red.

  Blake was the first friend I ever made after I left home. We joined that fucking club together.

  Now…now, for the first time, I’m questioning whether that friendship is as unassailable as I thought.

  I glance back at the BMW waiting for my attention, and away again almost as quickly. The way I feel right now, no way I can operate a welder.

  Instead, I turn to the Kawasaki sitting in the back, waiting for me to take it out again. It’s getting warmer now and I’ve been doing a bit more cruising, taking my more casual bikes out - but right now, I need speed. I need something fast and furious under me and I get the sudden crazy urge to find out whether the new tyres I put on her will take a couple of semi-dirt-road tracks I know around here.

  Any other time, that’s an idea just asking for trouble.

  Right now, it sounds like the kind of adrenaline rush I need.

  It’s been a good while since I risked life and limb - and there’s nothing else like it when you’re looking for a fucking distraction.

  Chapter Seven

  Chloe

  The next few weeks fly by as I spend every spare moment working on my sketching, drawing every other moment of the day and experimenting with different styles of paint. The course doesn’t start for another week, but I’m determined to get as good as I can first.

  It’s meant to take us from sketching all the way through to creating a finished painting, which is a whole lot of ground to cover - but this course really narrows in on making those works exhibition-ready, highlighting the subtle differences that can make a piece stand out. The instructors are a duo - an artist and a gallery owner - which is why they can offer the opportunity to exhibit at the end.

  And charge so damn much.

  It will be worth it, though. I know that. It’s the kind of chance that’s almost impossible to come by - so I’m doing everything I can to make the most of it, and I can’t believe how fast time escapes from me.

  I’m still thinking about Ash, too. Even with the distraction of preparing for the course, I haven’t been able to get that night out of my head and he occupies most of my night-time thoughts…and activities.

  I haven’t done anything else about it, though. Not gone back to that bar, or even looked for a slightly less risky place to meet someone for…more. Part of me wants to - the idea of doing it again and experiencing even more has me flustered and excited - but I’m a little worried that it might get kind of…addictive. I don’t really need that kind of distraction right now - and despite the way I finally lost my virginity, I’m not sure how good I’d feel if casual sex became a habit.

  I still kind of agree with my parents. It would be better if it meant something - and if it was with someone special - and I’m not quite sure how to reconcile that with my sometimes insatiable desire for something now, now, now. I don’t have the time or energy to work all that out right now, so instead I push it to the side.

  I can think about that after I’m a regularly-exhibited artist.

  The thought makes me smile.

  Between the daytime opportunity to pursue my dream and the nighttime memory of the best night of my life…I can’t ask fo
r much more. Everything in my life finally seems to be on track.

  Until I get sick.

  The first couple of days, I just pass it off as food poisoning or some stupid bug I’ve picked up from all those college students wandering around MICA. It’s irritating, but I haven’t been sick for a long time, so beyond a little grumbling and complaining, I just resign myself to a couple of days in bed and do my best to try to keep some of Mom’s chicken soup down.

  It doesn’t quite hit me the way food poisoning would, though, and a couple of times I almost feel like I’m over it - but then it’s back again the next morning. It’s not until the fourth day that I really start thinking, though.

  And with a sudden burst of panic, I realize I can’t remember the last time I had my period.

  It was only a few weeks ago, wasn’t it? I’m sure…damn it, Chloe, why don’t you keep better track of these things?!

  I’ve never had the slightest need to keep track of them before. It never even occurred to me.

  It was definitely a few weeks ago. Oh goodness, what were you doing at the time…?

  It’s so hard to remember when it feels like this upcoming art course has consumed every waking moment for so long.

  Was it before you signed up to that? After?

  The more I think about it, the more my mind keeps flashing back to that night with Ash. I can’t remember whether we used protection. We must have, right? But I didn’t say anything, and he didn’t say anything, and I didn’t know anything about what I was doing and—

  Oh. Oh no. Oh it can’t be. I can’t be. It’s impossible. Surely, surely, it’s impossible…I just did it that one time. Just once…

  The thoughts don’t stop spinning through my mind though, uncontrollable, and even as dread coils through me, I know I’m not going to be able to stop the panic without doing something about it.

  The fourth afternoon of my “bug”, I act like I’m finally feeling better and tell my parents that I want to go out for some fresh air. It’s not hard - I actually am. Except, of course, that only worries me more.