Forever (F-Word Book 4)

by E. Davies

  Tristan touched his arm again. “My friends Kyle and Nic might know people. And they’ll support you. They have a kid.”

  “Oh. They do?” Jake brightened up a little. “I know a few people with them, but… mostly straight people. Anyway, I think I’ll… I’ll head home now. I don’t want to think about it. I need a nap, and some time to figure all this out.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Tristan exclaimed. He hadn’t even really figured out how he felt, either. “Of course.”

  “Let’s head back to my car,” Jake told him. He seemed more like himself than before, so even if he was brushing Tristan off now, Tristan felt better about leaving him on his own to come to terms with it.

  He nodded and slid the flurry into his cup holder as he started up the car. “Of course.”

  Tristan’s heart raced as he counted down the minutes to the parking lot. Now seemed like the least sensitive time to ask what that meant for the two of them.

  Next time he saw Jake, he’d ask.

  As they pulled into the restaurant parking lot and he found a spot by Jake’s car, Tristan asked, “Are you free next week?”

  Jake shrugged as he finished his ice cream and popped the lid back on. “I don’t know. I didn’t think to check the schedule before I left yesterday, sorry.”

  Tristan laughed. “No, I think that was my fault.”

  “And a good kind of blame to take.” Jake smirked, clearly remembering their incredible sex last night.

  Tristan tried not to chuckle. Having Jake inside him, and finding out the very next day that Jake was pregnant, was a weird kind of mindfuck.

  “What?”

  “It’s just… I never expected any of this. Babies, and seeing you a lot, and… you know. Big life changes.”

  Jake gave him a smile as he unbuckled. “Yeah. Thanks for taking it well. I wasn’t sure how you were going to react.”

  “Yeah, I bet.” Tristan laughed. “Finding out you’re pregnant… I mean. That’s definitely not what I’ve ever expected. Fucking girls has its risks. But getting a guy pregnant? That’s not normal.”

  The moment he said it, he knew he’d made a mistake. He’d been on the receiving end of not normal too many times not to know. And he hadn’t meant it that way, but it was undoubtedly a slap in the face to hear.

  Jake’s expression closed off, and he opened the car door to climb out.

  “Shit,” Tristan breathed out, fumbling to unbuckle and climb out. That put his car between them, though, and those few feet might as well have been a mile. “Honey, I didn’t…”

  “Don’t call me that.” Jake’s voice was sharp, and it stung.

  Tristan swallowed hard and curled his hands into fists. “Sorry. Jake. I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “I know what you meant.” Jake still wasn’t looking at him as he dug out his car keys and opened the car door. “It’s fine.”

  His entire body language screamed not fine, but Tristan didn’t feel like he had any right to stop him leaving and explain himself. Hell, they were just friends and fuck-buddies. And he might have fucked up both of those things in one breath.

  Tristan felt even worse that it hadn’t just been the wrong word. Saying I meant uncommon wouldn’t change anything.

  It was still the same idea. Nobody wanted to feel like the rare freak in the crowd—a circus sideshow. Well, Jake probably didn’t, at least.

  And he was facing down months of getting that treatment from the rest of the world, in order to do something that most of the world took for granted.

  “No, it isn’t,” Tristan said quietly. “Look, call me when you want to talk, okay?”

  At last, Jake looked at him. He said nothing, but he gave him a small, sad smile.

  Tristan’s heart jolted. Fuck. He wants to ditch me, doesn’t he? He wasn’t going to play the biological rights card just to make Jake stay, though. That would be disrespectful as hell after what he’d just said.

  “I mean it,” Tristan added sternly. “Whether or not you want help, or financial support, or anything. I care about you as a friend. No matter my role, I want to be there.”

  Jake held his gaze for a few long moments, and finally relented. He let out his breath and nodded. “We’ll talk,” he promised.

  Relief coursed through Tristan, making his shoulders sag as he leaned on the hood of his car. For a second there, he’d been terrified that he’d just lost him.

  It wasn’t like a fuck-buddy getting busy with life and moving on without him. Tristan would have taken it far harder than that, and not just because of the baby who was now involved. He’d already been thinking about bringing it up, but too scared to do so.

  Now they really needed to talk—but first, Jake needed space.

  “Call me,” he said again. “Take care, Jake.”

  Jake drew a breath and let it out, then nodded. “Talk to you soon.”

  Tristan raised a hand when Jake drove away, then leaned on his car hood.

  Thankfully, it wasn’t scorching hot. He didn’t need a mirror of the burning embarrassment that coursed through him.

  Tristan didn’t know a lot about trans issues, but he knew what he’d seen in headlines. Every so often, a “pregnant man” news story would pop up, online or in a newspaper.

  The rest of the world was about to tell Jake that he was wrong, or bad, or not really a man, or a pervert, or all kinds of horrible things… just for wanting something that so many people wanted. To have a family.

  Adding to that burden made Tristan feel the worst he’d felt about himself in a long time.

  From now on, he was going to do his damn best to make Jake feel normal, yet special, like anyone else who was pregnant. However possible, Tristan wanted to care for and about Jake.

  All he could do now was pray that Jake gave him the chance to figure out how.

  13

  Jake

  It was the wrong five o’clock to wake up. Far from his usual early mornings, the sun was creeping toward the horizon when Jake finally made himself get out of bed.

  A short nap had turned into a longer one. He’d obviously been tired enough to need the rest, and going to work was the last thing he wanted to do… but he needed the job, too. Rent didn’t pay itself.

  “Get up and at ‘em,” Jake told himself as he pushed the flimsy closet door open.

  Half his closet was plain clothes: black trousers and white button-down shirts for the restaurant, and more shades of black for his set work. He’d gotten into the color scheme in high school theater club, and he’d stuck with it. It made getting dressed easy.

  Oh, God. All his clothes fit him well, which meant in a few months’ time, they wouldn’t.

  He took a few deep breaths and sat on the bed again, staring at the open closet. There were a hundred details—a thousand, maybe—that he hadn’t sorted out yet.

  Jake had expected to have so much more time to think it through. To carefully plan and set it up. And now he was plunging headlong into this, without a second to waste.

  He couldn’t be more than two weeks along, but that meant just thirty-eight weeks to go. It was a number that seemed both forever away and way too soon.

  He’d been in California for six years. Thirty-eight weeks? That was nothing.

  It was still early. Way too early to count on anything. Of all the things Dr. Lume had told him, that sank in, at least.

  The first trimester, anything might go wrong. If anything did, it was likely in the next few months. His bloodwork results had yet to come back. This was so soon after stopping testosterone that the hormone balance could be all wrong.

  She’d done all she could to caution him against getting excited, and planning his life around the coming new one, but… a kind of certainty had settled in him now.

  He was going to be a parent. Until and unless anything went wrong later, he was going to plan his life as best he could.

  And that meant getting to work, swallowing the irritability and low energy and moodiness, serving cu
stomers the best he could to get as many tips as he could, and worrying about everything else later. Not just for his own sake now.

  This baby was his responsibility, and his alone. The only other person involved was… well, Tristan.

  “God,” Jake mumbled under his breath. “Get ready for work, loser.” If he didn’t get out the door in twenty minutes, traffic might make him late. That was the last thing he needed.

  As Jake dressed and tidied up his hair, he couldn’t help but think of Tristan. He felt bad for having shut him out this morning. But hearing that word—normal—had made it all hit home for him.

  This wasn’t normal. This was far from it. He had Dr. Lume on his side, but he was going to need to deal with obstetricians, and nurses, and doctors, and God only knew who else.

  And he was probably going to be the only pregnant guy anybody knew.

  He was utterly alone, as he had been for so damn long. And for once, it didn’t feel good. He didn’t want to be alone, and admitting that to himself hurt.

  Jake’s hands shook as he buttoned up his shirt and shoved the tails in his trousers. He slipped a thumb in his waistband to check the button, drawing a deep breath as his fingers brushed the outline of his silicone cock. He shifted his three layers of waistbands so it all sat right on his hips, and then grabbed his tie.

  A few minutes in the bathroom and he looked like he hadn’t been napping the afternoon away. He was still tired out, but when had that ever stopped him from being a superstar—on set, on the restaurant floor, or wherever else he needed to be?

  When there was a job to be done, he rose to the occasion. And he was about to get the biggest job title of his life.

  There was no reason he couldn’t do it—alone or not.

  But why should I be alone?

  That was a thought to contemplate after work, not before.

  “So, how were things last night?” Amanda greeted him with a grin as she printed a check from the point-of-sale system.

  Jake blew out a little sigh and laughed, not sure where to begin explaining.

  She eyed him closely before shaking her head. “Sounds like a long story. Drinks tonight after our shift?”

  She hadn’t invited him out before. Jake smiled, recognizing this as an attempt at friendship. First Kyle and his friendship group, and now Amanda? How was he suddenly making all these friends, after years of getting by?

  Maybe he’d finally opened his eyes to the people around him.

  “Sure. Drinks tonight.” Jake neglected to mention that drinking was going to be off the table for a long time to come. A lot of tonic water lay ahead of him.

  “Great. Move, I need a pen.”

  The abruptness was just par for the course here, and it meant they were comfortable together. Jake grinned as he leaned back, grabbed one, and handed it over.

  “Thanks.”

  She strode off for her table and he looked around at the place to get his bearings. Then, he headed back to the kitchen to check with Milo for today’s specialties and menu changes.

  “That was some fellow you brought in yesterday,” Milo commented as he sprinkled cheese on a bubbling-hot pan of macaroni.

  Jake sighed and pressed his palm against his forehead. “Is my dating life that bad that that’s all everyone has to talk about?”

  “Well…” Milo pretended to think. “Yes.”

  “Rude,” Jake teased, propping his chin on his fist. “Besides, I don’t know if I’ll keep him around.”

  Milo spluttered. “I might be a confirmed bachelor, but even I’m gonna say that’s a dumbass move. The man’s got eyes for you, and you for him. What’s in the way?”

  “Lifestyle,” Jake said, trying to evade the questioning. He had to get to the front door and seat another party who had just arrived. Dinner service was about to begin, and he didn’t want to leave that conversation hanging.

  Milo let it go. It was the nature of this kind of work—snippets of conversation between covers, and fragile friendships as they learned to dodge and weave around each other, keeping the chaos behind the scenes so diners had a pleasant experience.

  The better you were at bowing and scraping, the more you’d earn. This place at least paid minimum wage, in addition to the healthcare benefits.

  Oh, God. Would his insurance cover the pregnancy costs? Now that he was named as male on his policy, he already had to fight for things like pap smears to be covered. They might try anything to avoid paying those costs.

  Deep breath, and deal with it later.

  “Hi, welcome!” he greeted, pasting the sunniest smile he could manage onto his face as he led the group to their table.

  He had to have faith that everything would work out, and pour whatever he could into the only things he could control. Right now, all he could control was how hard he worked, so he was going to be the best he could at his job.

  Later, he’d figure out whether he wanted to call Tristan… or if he could stand not to.

  The shift passed mercifully quickly, the pace picking up minutes later when several large groups arrived.

  By the end of the night, his feet hurt, his face hurt from forcing so many smiles, and his wallet was thicker than it had been in a while.

  “You killed it tonight,” Amanda told him as she counted up the register. It was just the two of them left in the place now to close it out. “You’ve got your mojo back.”

  “Back?”

  “Oh.” Amanda gave a sheepish smile. “You just seemed like… not yourself. And the tips…”

  Jake instantly understood. They pooled tips, so anyone getting low tips affected everyone else. “Shit. Sorry,” he mumbled.

  “No, it’s all right. We’ve all got those bad days, or weeks.”

  “Or six weeks now,” Jake said, half-smiling. “My hormones have been nuts.”

  “Ohhh.” Amanda nodded. “Like PMS? Does that happen a lot?”

  “Worse than PMS was for me, but I used to be lucky that way.” Jake leaned on the counter and tidied it up, out of sheer habit. He couldn’t keep his hands idle for long. “Now I’m moody as hell.”

  “When I lived at home with my mom, it’s a wonder we didn’t throttle each other that time of the month,” Amanda laughed. “Are you getting better now?”

  “No,” Jake admitted, rubbing his face. “But that’s a… that’s a long story.”

  Worse than the idea of telling anyone he was pregnant—and he knew how risky that was in a job like this—was the idea of having to tell them if anything went wrong. He’d promised to himself he wouldn’t let on until the first trimester was safely over.

  He’d quietly go about setting his own life to rights, and keep it to himself as he figured out how to make this work.

  Jake caught himself with his hand on his stomach. God, he was going to have to get out of that habit before he started to grow.

  He headed for the staff room to grab his phone and change into street shoes. A few minutes later, after depositing the cash into the safe, Amanda joined him by the front door.

  “Drinks around the corner? Then we can leave our cars here.”

  “I won’t drink anyway,” Jake told her. “But somewhere close is good. I don’t want to be up until all hours. I’m an old man.”

  Amanda gasped. “Fuck off. You aren’t.”

  “I feel like it.”

  “If you’re old, I’m decrepit. Thirty-four next week, thanks very much!”

  Jake stared. “Really?” It was the polite thing to say, but it was also true. She didn’t look it.

  Amanda softened and grinned. “If I didn’t know how gay you were, I’d say you were flirting. Well done, darling. Your first drink’s on me.”

  “I wasn’t—I mean, it’s true.” Jake laughed as they walked around two empty strip mall buildings to the bar. It was still vibrant and bustling at this time of night, even if nowhere else around it was. “This a good place?”

  “You haven’t been? Dude, how long have you been working here and I haven
’t invited you out for drinks? Oh, my God.” Amanda covered her face. “You must have thought I hated you!”

  Jake shook his head. “No, no. I took off ASAP for months. You never had the chance.”

  “Well, we’re fixing that now,” Amanda told him as they headed in and up to the bar. “Sure you don’t want a drink?”

  “Yep. I don’t drink,” Jake said firmly. The sooner he established that peer pressure wouldn’t work, the better.

  Luckily, Amanda took it just fine. “Sure. What can I get you instead?”

  He settled for a Coke while she got a rum and Coke, and they found a table nearby. This was such a different place from his usual haunts when he did go out—more women, way more straight guys, and a vibe he wasn’t altogether comfortable with.

  Still, as Amanda peppered him with questions that he did his best to dodge and return to her, Jake relaxed.

  He was finally making friends and establishing a real life for himself, not just counting down the hours between shifts.

  But it wasn’t like hanging out with Tristan. Tristan meant something more to him, and like it or not, he was going to have to come to terms with that.

  Tomorrow wasn’t going to be the day in bed he’d promised himself. He just hoped it would be even better. The way they’d left off, he wasn’t sure.

  But Jake owed it to himself to talk to Tristan, not just run away from anything potentially good in his life because the timing wasn’t right.

  Maybe Tristan was right, and the timing was never right for a baby. That applied to men, too. And he was growing increasingly certain that what he wanted was Tristan.

  Jake had never let timing stop him from getting what he wanted before.

  Why start now?

  14

  Tristan

  “I want to work. I don’t care if it’s for stupid commercials. If I’m not getting work, I’m basically just waiting to be slowly pushed out of Hollywood.”

  Tristan paced back and forth in Bobby’s office, his hands folded behind his back as he stepped around the piles of paperwork. They seemed to build up whenever Bobby’s personal assistant took one of those rare days off.