Hot Shot

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Hot Shot Page 15

by Karina Halle


  “Nervous?” His dark brows knit together. “Why?”

  “No real reason,” I tell him, my cheeks growing hot at the admission. “It’s just a change. We were a certain way before and now we’re this way. We’re…intimate. Physical. And it’s a whole new Fox and Delilah, you know? And every time I think I’m adapting and getting used to the new us, you leave and I feel like we’re starting all over again. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, it’s just that it’s something I’m realizing. Perpetually catching up.”

  He nods slowly, chewing on his lip for a few beats. “Okay. Well, I get that. I guess it’s different from me because the entire time I’m gone, all I can think about is seeing you, being with you. Like this. And by this, I mean sex.”

  I laugh. “That was almost romantic, Fox. Almost.”

  He reaches over and cups my cheek with his hand. “I’m new at this too, you know. With you. So things might sound more romantic in my head. But honestly Del, you’re the one thing that keeps me going through those hard days.”

  I think I’m melting a little inside. Whether he means it or not, that was romantic.

  But still I have to ruin it.

  “And the other thing,” I go on, “the question I had for you, is…” I take in a deep breath, finding it easier to stare at his beautifully full lips instead of the quiet intensity of his eyes. “What are we doing? I mean, where is this going? Are we…friends with benefits? More? Is there even a potential for more? I hate to get all, I don’t know, clingy or pressure you for a commitment, because I’m not like that, but…”

  But I’m in love with you.

  And I have to know exactly how much this is going to hurt down the line.

  He sighs and closes his eyes, leaning back against the couch.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell him, “if I ruined this. I just want to talk about it, that’s all. And if you don’t know, then you don’t know and that’s fine.”

  “But that’s the thing,” he says, eyes still closed. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I want in general or where my head is. I don’t know what the future holds. I’m too…I don’t know, scared, to even look. I’m just…” he opens his eyes and they focus on me, holding me in place. “I’m a mess, to be honest with you. And you’re the only thing that makes sense. That’s all I know. I need you right now. I want you right now. And I’m just playing it day by day by day.”

  It stings, like tiny papercuts on my heart. To know that he’s not willing to commit yet. To know that I’m needed for now but maybe not for later.

  And I know I should think about protecting my heart. I should probably take a step back and call all this off and try and salvage our friendship or what remains of it because I want him body and soul and I’ll never be happy until I have all of him. I mean, I love him.

  I love him.

  More and more.

  Every day.

  But that’s also the problem.

  Love makes you foolish. Love makes you choose love.

  This is the first chance that I’ve ever had to be with Fox and I’d rather have him like this than not have him at all.

  “Then I’ll play it day by day with you,” I tell him.

  I just want you right now, like you want me right now.

  I’ll take whatever you can give me.

  I’ll take every part of you for as long as I’m able to.

  “You’re alright with that?” he whispers, his expression growing both soft and wanting all at once.

  I nod. “More than okay.”

  I wish I wasn’t lying.

  12

  Delilah

  “Delilah, dear,” Dick says. “You are looking absolutely glowing lately, you know that?”

  “It’s true,” Vernalee says, rather suspiciously. “What’s your secret? I want to be the best-looking grandma in town.”

  While Rachel gives an exaggerated rolling of the eyes (because, no, she’s not pregnant), I give everyone at the table an embarrassed smile. “It must be the company.”

  The truth is, I’ve been feeling anything but glowing lately, though if I do look good at all, it’s probably because of Fox. You know, how love changes the way you see the world and thus changes the way you look. That and sex. All the sex.

  On the other hand, every shitty thing I’m feeling is probably because of Fox too.

  He’s been gone again. This time for just a week, but it’s enough. It’s October, it should be the end of the forest fire season but this year things don’t seem to stop. Not only is he fighting one over in Alberta but there’s a massive fire raging in Northern California. Wildland firefighters are being pulled from all over the US and I know that the minute the Alberta fire is under control, he’s going to be called out to the California one.

  It’s hard. It’s obviously harder on him, but it’s hard on me too. Just the not knowing. I know the last time we were together we talked about it and I was okay with being Fox’s fuck buddy, friend with benefits, whatever we are but at the same time…

  Fuck. I want more. I want to be with him. To have all of him, not just his dick. The sex is amazing, better than I could have ever imagined and I don’t think I could ever stop with him but I want his heart. I want his heart and his mind and his soul. It’s a lot to ask of anyone but he has mine, whether he wants it or not. I mean, it’s a fair trade.

  But love isn’t a trade at all. It’s something else. It’s a gamble. And right now, I’m close to laying it all on the table and hoping for the best.

  So, while he’s gone risking his life, I’m left wondering, hoping, that when he comes back we’ll have something to work with, something to develop. The longer I’m with Fox in such an intimate, physical way, the deeper and more obsessed I become.

  Then there’s the fact that I’ve just been feeling off lately. Pretty sure a flu is coming on, though I just hope it doesn’t strike when Fox is next in town.

  Once dinner is over, I’m in the kitchen helping Rachel clean up. Fox, Riley and Maverick were all absent tonight, the latter two out on a special search and rescue call, so there are less dishes.

  Even so, I’m starting to feel a bit dizzy after bending down to load them in the dishwasher and have to lean against the counter for the moment.

  “Are you okay?” Rachel asks, putting her hand on my back.

  I nod frantically, pressing my lips together as a wave of nausea comes over me.

  “Are you sick?” she goes on. “Was it the food?”

  I make the motion for her to wait a moment and I close my eyes, breathing through it. Then, after a few deep breaths, the moment passes.

  “I don’t know what that was,” I admit. “I think I’m getting the flu. I haven’t been feeling well the last couple of days.”

  “Well it is cold season,” she says, watching me closely with concern. “And you do work in a bar. Maybe you should close one of the nights this week. You know I don’t have much to do but run the Air B&B out back and that’s a pretty do nothing gig. We don’t even have anyone booked. Why don’t I bartender for a night or two?”

  “That’s really sweet of you,” I say gratefully. “But honestly, I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll do it though, I’d love to. So as long as I get to keep the tips. I can get Shane to help me too.”

  “I’m sure after long hours on the ranch, working at the bar instead of drinking at the bar will be the last thing on his mind. I’ll be fine, really. Maybe I ate something off.”

  “Well it was your mom and mine who made this roast,” she says raising her palms, “so I’m absolved of all the blame here.”

  After that the feeling sort of goes away. I’m a bit out of it, a bit on edge for some reason, but other than that, I’m okay. Then the next morning when I go to Fox’s house to take care of Conan, I have to put the guy down on the bed while I run to the toilet to throw up.

  I don’t know how long I’m on my knees, just puking and puking, feeling drained, until I realize that in my haste I didn’t put Conan
back in his cage.

  I flush the toilet, rinse out my mouth with mouthwash and splash water on my face before turning around to go on a panicked hunt for Conan.

  Luckily, I don’t have to search very far because the squirrel literally followed me into the bathroom and is standing on its hind legs, little T-rex arms hanging in front of him, watching me with big eyes.

  “Hey,” I say to him. “You didn’t run off.”

  Conan tilts his head and then runs.

  Toward me.

  Up my leg, his little claws digging into my jeans as he scampers up and up, all the way to the crook of my arm.

  Well, fuck. Ain’t this just the cutest, coolest thing. He’s…tame.

  And he thinks I’m his mother.

  “Hey there Conan,” I say to him softly, and he looks like he’s hanging on to my every word. “I was just a little sick there, but I’m better now. Don’t tell your father I puked in his toilet, okay?”

  I put him back in his cage which he’s starting to outgrow and make a point to ask Fox if maybe the squirrel should stay with me, since I’m the one pretty much taking full responsibility for it. I just have to run it past my mother since I do share a house with her and who knows what her stance on squirrels is.

  Even so, I feel bad when I have to leave him all alone and head to the bar to open up. Then I feel bad, physically, when it’s ten minutes until opening and I’m feeling sick yet again.

  I run to the bathroom and throw up, surprised that there’s even anything left in me since I barely ate today, just some bone broth chicken soup with my mother.

  I don’t think I have a choice. I can’t bartend from the washroom. I pull out my cell and call Rachel, asking if she’ll do that favor she mentioned last night. Being the good friend she is, there is no hesitation and both she and Shane come by to run the place while I go home to try and sleep it off.

  I should have felt more nervous than I did about leaving the bar with them but Shane especially has been here every single weekend for the last ten years, so he knows how to run the joint and Rachel is pretty efficient as well. The place is in good hands.

  As for me, I feel better when the morning rolls around, though maybe that has something to do with my mother spoiling me like I’m ten years old. Lots more soup, cold medicines, hot water bottles, anything I want, she’s taking care of me. It feels good for once to be on the receiving end.

  Then when evening rolls around again and I think I’m ready to take over the bar, the sickness strikes again a few hours after opening. Shane is already in the bar with Rachel and Shane offers to drive me home while Rachel takes over.

  I get into Shane’s truck, taking deep breathes with the window down, the cold night air making my head feel clearer.

  “Can you take me to Fox’s?” I ask him as we pull out of the parking lot.

  “Why, is he home?”

  “No. I have a squirrel to take care of.”

  Shane frowns at me. “Sure,” he says slowly. “But we’re stopping somewhere else first.”

  Before I have a chance to ask him where, he’s pulled up alongside the entrance to a pharmacy. “Stay right here,” he says and then leaves the truck running with me in it as he jogs into the store.

  He comes back out a few minutes later with a small white paper bag, gets in the driver’s seat and thrusts it in my lap. “Here,” he says. “Now I’ll take you to Fox’s.”

  I open up the bag, expecting some sort of anti-nausea medicine.

  Instead I gasp.

  It’s a pregnancy test.

  “Is this for…is this for Rachel?” I ask, trying not to get too excited. “Oh my god, do you think she’s pregnant?”

  He shakes his head, face grave. “No. It’s for you, Del.”

  “Me?” I repeat, laughing. “I’m not pregnant.”

  He just glances at me for a few long hard moments before turning his attention back to the road.

  “What? I’m not!”

  “You’ve been sick,” he says.

  “That doesn’t mean I’m pregnant. I’m on the pill.”

  “Do you use anything else besides the pill?”

  “What are you, my doctor? And no, we don’t. Not that it’s any of your business. Fox is clean. So am I. So it works well for us.”

  “That isn’t my business,” he says, scrunching up his nose for a second. “But you know if the pill isn’t always taken correctly, that there’s a chance. So let’s just be sure.”

  “Okay,” I say eventually, shaking my head. “But it’s not going to be positive. I’m pretty good about the pill and try to take it the same time every day.”

  “Try,” he repeats. “And when was your period?”

  “Shane, no offense, but it’s weird to talk about this with you.”

  He shrugs. “It’s only weird to you. I’ve had damn pregnancy on the brain ever since Rachel and I officially started trying, so I’ve been reading up and I know all the signs and well…”

  “Well for your information, my period is late,” I tell him. Before he can say anything I wave my finger and quickly add, “But it’s always late. That’s why I’ve been on the pill to begin with for so many years, even when I wasn’t having sex. It’s to keep me regular and sometimes it just doesn’t work.”

  Shane glances at me, looking me over. “I have to say, Del, but I have a funny feeling about this.”

  I roll my eyes. “You’re just all hopped up on the newlywed goofy hormones or something. I’m not pregnant.”

  I keep saying that to myself as we get to Fox’s chalet.

  My period is often late, especially when I’m stressed.

  I just have a flu.

  I’m only getting sick at night so it’s not morning sickness.

  I’ll be better tomorrow.

  I’ve been so good with the pill.

  I’m in my thirties.

  There’s no way I’m pregnant.

  No way.

  No way.

  No.

  Way.

  And yet another wave of nausea rolls through me and I have to run to Fox’s poor toilet once again.

  Once I’m done, I make quick work of feeding Conan, which at least distracts Shane for a little bit.

  Then when I’m done and Conan is back in the cage, Shane waves the pregnancy test at me. “Get it over with,” he says. “Don’t you want to know for sure?”

  “I do know,” I tell him uneasily, snatching it out of his hands. “I just want you to shut up.”

  So I go in the bathroom and take out the stick, making sure I read the directions properly. The only other time I’ve had to do this was in high school when, thankfully, the test was negative, though there was a five-minute end of the world freak out period where I read the thing wrong.

  I sigh and concentrate and try to pee on the stick.

  All I can think about is…god, I hope this is negative.

  This has to be negative.

  I am not ready for a child.

  I am not ready to have Fox’s child.

  It just wouldn’t be right.

  It’s just not what’s supposed to happen.

  I figured I’d have children and a family one day, even though that one day is getting more and more unattainable. I just know it wouldn’t be like this.

  When I finish peeing, I place it on the counter and I hold my breath and I wait.

  I wait for that one pink line to show up.

  It does.

  I pray that the other line doesn’t show up.

  But…

  …it does.

  I gasp, trying to breathe.

  No.

  No.

  No.

  “Oh my god,” I say softly. No, it has to be wrong. This is a false positive. It’s false.

  “What is it? What does it say?” Shane asks through the door.

  I can’t even speak. I shake the stick, stare at it some more, read the instructions again. But those two lines are stubborn.

  Eventually I open t
he door and all Shane has to do is look at my face.

  “No, are you serious?” he asks me.

  I swallow hard and nod, showing him the stick without any gusto.

  “Shit. Del. I don’t know what to say,” he says softly.

  “Well this is your fault,” I tell him, panic clawing up my throat. “You’re the one who made me get the test. If you hadn’t I wouldn’t have known. If I wouldn’t have known, this wouldn’t be happening right now.”

  “Easy, Del, take it easy,” he says, putting his hands on my shoulders.

  “Easy? I am taking it easy. The test is wrong. It’s a false positive. It happens. Look, look I’ll google it.” I hand him the stick, which he takes and cringes, and then bring out my phone, trying to find out how many false results happen and the odds of that.

  Only I’m panicking so much, borderline hyperventilating, that I can hardly see straight. “Please, please, please,” I say quietly.

  “We need to do another test.”

  I look at Shane with pleading eyes. “Another one?”

  “Look, are you seriously just going to pretend it’s a false positive without knowing the truth? Tell me you’ll be able to sleep at night.”

  “But I know it’s false and I’ll sleep fine,” I lie.

  Because I am not sleeping. Ever again.

  “I’m going back to the pharmacy. You stay here. They’ll think I’m just getting it for Rachel anyway. We’ll get you another test. Then we’ll see. And depending on what that says, then you go see a doctor. Tomorrow.”

  “Shane, please, you’re making this out to be such a big deal.” I’m hanging onto his shirt, practically crying.

  “Delilah, you’re my sister. Blood-related or not, you’re my sister. And Fox, well, he does happen to be my brother.” He pauses. “And now I realize that whatever else I’m going to say is going to sound extremely wrong, but if you’re having my brother’s baby, then we have to know about it. For your sake, for his sake. Del…believe it or not but this is not something you just ignore and it will go away. It’s very real. It’s very big. And it’s here in your life, right now. So let’s just deal with it, step by step, okay?”

  I nod and he leads me by the shoulders over to the living room where he sits me down on Fox’s couch, makes me a cup of tea and then flicks on the TV.

 

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