Secrets We Keep

by B. K. Leigh

“I don’t care if you can walk or not, I said get in.” Gone is the teacher I just spoke with, and in front of me is the arrogant man I met in that club. The confident man who knows he’ll get his way one way or another.

  “Why are you so bossy?” I accuse as soon as my butt hits the passenger seat.

  “Same reason you’re so ungrateful.” He retorts.

  “I’m not ungrateful I told you I could walk. You just don’t listen.”

  “Maybe I like bossing you around.” He tells me seriously. I don’t answer him. I just let the silence of the car ride take over me.

  “Can you stop at the drug store?” I ask him before he passes it. He quirks a brow in my direction as if asking me to explain. “I need to pick up my Grams’ prescription.” I tell him matter of factly. To my surprise he actually does what I ask.

  I wait almost ten minutes in line to get the prescription, then head to the isle I need most. My nausea has come back full force these past few weeks, and I feel as if I’ve been run over by a train.

  Killian’s noticed. Of course he has. But when he asked me what was wrong it’s not like I could tell him I was pregnant with his spawn that is currently trying to kill me from the inside out. He probably would have keeled over and died right on the spot.

  My eyes finally land on my saving grace and I sigh in relief. I really hope this works. Dr. Forbes told me there was a small chance it wouldn’t and that I might have to deal with this for the next seven and a half months. I’ll die if that happens. I really don’t know if I’ll be able to handle that. I spend more time getting to know my toilet than I do with anyone else.

  “You good?” Killian asks as I plump back down in his car.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” It’s the most generic answer, but it placates almost anyone who asks.

  “Are you ever anything but fine?” He asks dryly.

  “Does it even really matter?”

  “I care.” He says under his breath.

  “Really?” I ask in shock. “Could of fooled me.” I roll my eyes.

  “I care about the well being of all of my students.” He doesn’t even sound sincere. It’s completely generic. Like this persona he seems to have all of the sudden. I want to push him. I want to know the real him. I want to know the parts of him that weren’t taught, weren’t instilled into him through an institution.

  “Do you care about the well being of all of your students, or do you care about the well being of me?” I wait for his answer as my hand mindlessly rubs my belly from the inside of Cohen’s baggy sweatshirt. I’m not showing yet, thank God. Kathy says it’s only a matter of time before I do and that scares the crap out of me.

  “I care about all of my students, you included.” He swallows and I watch his Adams apple bob up and down.

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  “Why are you making this harder than it needs to be, Tatum? Why do you feel the need to fight me on most things?” He lets out a frustrated breath.

  “I’m not fighting you! I’m not even doing anything! You’re the one who gets all high and mighty on me, wanting to pull me aside to talk after class, driving me home. I have two legs, Killian. I can walk!” I yell out in frustration. “You’re freaking impossible.” I throw my hands in the air out of frustration.

  He turns the car down a dirt road I’ve never been before and throws the car in park once he pulls over to the side.

  “What are you doing?” I demand.

  “What does is look like I’m doing?” He turns to face me with a fire in his eyes I can’t make out.

  “Please, just bring me home Killian.” I roll my eyes in annoyance and turn away from him. Nothing about being in this car right now, down this stretch of road, with him is going to create anything good. It’s a recipe for disaster.

  “Not until you talk to me.” He practically begs me.

  “Why do you even care?” I ask him again. It feels like every time we speak we’re on the same constant loop, with the same conversation going around and around.

  “I just- I just do.” He sounds frustrated. He drags a hand roughly through his dark wavy hair. My fingers itch to latch onto his unruly locks, and drag my nails down his scalp. “Jesus fucking Christ, I do.” He lets out a long ragged breath. The windshield begins to slightly fog the longer we stay here.

  “Well, you shouldn’t.” I don’t have time for these games today. I don’t have time to deal with these mood swings on top of everything else. Bean is growing, Grams’ health is declining. Everything is happening faster than I could have ever even imagined. Too fast for me to even keep up with.

  “I know I shouldn’t.” He scrubs his hands over the scruff on his cheeks. “Damn, I know I shouldn’t.” I don’t know what it is with him today, but I’ve never heard him or seen him be more elusive. He’s losing himself. He sounds almost like he did that night, wild and out of control.

  “I need to ask you something.” I eye him warily.

  “There are these rumors.” His eyes flick to the side, a tell tale sign he’s lying. The way he’s speaking is making me nervous as all hell.

  “Could you just spit it out? I have to get home.” I’m growing more frustrated the longer he waits. His presence is starting to get to me. There’s only so long I can be near him, and not want to completely jump his bones or tear him apart all within the same breath. I place my hands under my thighs, trapping them from reaching out and feeling just how scratchy the stubble would feel against the skin of my palms.

  “Are you pregnant?” He asks in a rush. I just stare at him. It’s like an out of body experience. I see myself sitting there, jaw hanging practically on the ground, digging around in my head for any way to answer this abrupt question. Seconds, minutes, hours go by before my brain can formulate any words.

  “Take me home.” My voice is cold. My words feel almost as empty as my heart does in this moment. “Killian,” I demand, a deeper unknown threat lurking behind it. “You need to bring me home.” I fold my arms over my chest turning my entire body away from him and towards the window. I’m done with this conversation. I’m done with him.

  Chapter 12

  Tatum

  “Jeez, Cohen. Could you stop twitching like that?” I ask him while my own leg shakes up and down uncontrollably.

  “Me? What about you? You’re practically shaking like a leaf.” He scoffs in my direction.

  “I’m freaking nervous, okay?” I tuck my hands underneath my thighs to keep them busy. “What are you even nervous about, it’s not like we’re here for you.” I tell him next.

  “I know, I know. You know I don’t like hospitals.” He looks around the waiting room as if a scary clown might pop out at him at any moment.

  “It’s not even a hospital you dimwit.” I shove into him. “It’s a doctors office.” I roll my eyes.

  “Yeah, why the hell did we have to come here anyway, on Halloween none the less?” He literally looks like a frightened kitten.

  “You’re the one who agreed to come with me in the first place, Cohen Parker.” I say sternly. “You know I didn’t force you.”

  “I know, I know. I just get...nervous.” He slides an arm over my shoulders. I don’t know if it’s for my comfort or his.

  “You and me both.” I huff out a deep breath, blowing a stray curl away from my face at the same time.

  “Tatum?” My name is called and goosebumps immediately break out over my skin. Cohen and I rise at the exact same time and follow the nurse down the hallway with our hands entwined. The nurse gets to work taking my vitals, asking millions of questions, and typing my every word down on some sort of computerized chart.

  “Are you ever going to tell him?” Cohen asks me as soon as the nurse leaves the room. His hands twitch by his side.

  "No.” I say it with so much finality that I think it shocks the both of us.

  “Ever?” He wants me to clarify.

  “Cohen, he’s my teacher.” I try to get the point across without needing to elaborate, but he�
��s not getting it. “He can go to jail! He could lose his job! All because I tricked him! Not only did I trick him, but I got pregnant on top of all of it.” Right here on the spot I have a mini freak out.

  “You didn’t trick him, Tate. We were having fun. You needed that night, you needed to let loose.” He tries to turn it around to where it’s not my fault.

  “Yeah, I needed to let loose as in get wasted, not pregnant.”

  “Would you be this hard on yourself if he wasn’t your History teacher?” He questions me. It takes a while for me to answer. I think his question over for what seems like forever. It’s not Killian’s fault I’m in this position. He didn’t ask for it, but neither did I. But I'm dealing with it.

  “Maybe.” I shrug. “But I won’t ruin his life with this. I won’t be the demise of another human being.” We both know that I’m not talking about Bean at this point.

  “That wasn’t your fault either, Tatum.” Cohen makes to stand. “You know that.” He gives me that look that says I’m completely crazy. “Besides, it takes two to tango.” He comes and wraps his arms around me, encompassing me in a bear hug.

  “Okay, Tatum. Looks like we’re-” The doctor walks in at that moment and stops mid sentence. “Oh, hello. You must be Dad?” She asks with a smile on her face. Cohen pulls away from me as if we’ve just been caught doing something we shouldn’t. The young doctor sticks her hand in his direction and waits for him to take hold. He doesn’t reach for it, but he doesn’t ignore it either.

  “Cohen.” He grunts his name as he finally sticks his hand out. It’s not that he has an attitude problem, but I know I’m probably the only one who understands that. Cohen and hospitals don’t get along. The anxiety nearly eats him alive.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Cohen. I’m Dr. Forbes.” She introduces her self. I take in her appearance. She’s young. Like, really, really young. Her dark chestnut hair is tied back half up half down, with the rest falling in loose waves down to the middle of her back. She has familiar blue eyes and the longest lashes any girl would die for. She’s beautiful. She immediately puts me at ease, and I can tell the same goes for Cohen. His shoulders sag slightly as the anxiety fades away, and his face gets some of it’s color back.

  She goes on to tell me all things pregnancy. Things the nurse from my other appointment didn’t mention. The risks, the benefits, the medications. She knows it all. She must, considering the nausea medication she recommended worked like a charm. She studies her chart in front of her after a brief pause and finally begins to speak again.

  “Looks like we got a more accurate reading on your due date this time.” She smiles brightly at me. Her white teeth are almost blinding. I listen to her next words in anticipation. “April 25th, a nice spring baby.” My heart stutters a beat.

  “Is that a joke?” I ask her with all the serious in the world. The nice doctor looks frightened, as if she’s afraid I might jump off this small table and lunge at her.

  “Nope,” She pops the P. Back in place is the cheerful woman I saw when she first walked in. “You’re about fifteen weeks.” My hand instantly goes to my none existent bump. I don’t feel anything, nothing’s there except for the knowledge of Bean’s existence.

  “Fifteen weeks?” Cohen whispers to himself drawing our attention. “April 25th? Jesus, Tate. You realize what day that is?” The news must have hit him late, considering that’s all I thought about the second those words left Dr. Forbes’ mouth. Her smile fades as she sees me shoot him a look that says to drop it.

  “Okay,” She says trying to ignore the elephant in the room. “You know the drill, Tatum.” She helps me off of the small bed made table and continues to speak. “Make sure you’re taking your vitamins, and be sure to make you’re next appointment with the receptionist. The next one’s a big one!” She smiles brightly. Her positive attitude manages to take an ounce of worry off of my shoulders. I nod my head to her orders.

  “Christ, Tatum. April 25th?” Cohen lets out a big sigh the minute we step out of the building. “Are you cursed or what?” He says jokingly.

  “You’re asking me if I’m cursed because I just found out my due date is exactly a year to the day of my parents death? Or is it the fact that I found all of this out on Halloween? Don’t even get me started on the baby daddy drama.” It’s not funny. It really isn’t, but I can’t stop the low rumble of laughter building deep in my throat.

  “You think this is funny?” He asks me stunned. “You’re a freaking psychopath for God’s sake.” He throws his hands in the air in exasperation. At this point I’m full out laughing. “It’s not funny.” He says as his shoulders begin to bob up and down.

  “This is a fucking nightmare!” I laugh even harder. He holds his belly as if his laughing might make his insides fall out.

  “This is fucking hilarious!” He finally agrees with me. “I’m gonna need to get high. No, scratch that, I need to get fucking drunk. I can’t handle this shit.” He says just little more serious still laughing his way around the matter.

  “You and me both.” I reply once the laughter subsides. “You and me both.” I repeat once again. April 25th. One of the worse days of my life. It should be one of the happiest. It should be a day I look forward to, but I just haven’t gotten that feeling yet. Maybe it’s the stress. Maybe it’s Killian. Maybe it’s the fact that none of what’s happening right now is even close being normal. Besides Cohen. He’s the only constant I can count on. The only person helping me keep my head above the water.

  Chapter 14

  Tatum

  I’ve been watching Killian from the back row since class first started. His slacks are hugging his thighs and hips like a second skin. I swear every time he moves you can hear every girl in the classroom sigh. He’s wearing a lavender button down, a color you wouldn’t think could look so good but only he could pull it off. It should be illegal for him to wear a color like that. The sleeves are rolled at his elbows showing just the right amount of forearm. Every time he lifts an arm to the board his muscles flex and I swear I drool just a little more.

  I’m not going to lie. I’ve been quite aroused lately, with a certain History teacher being the star of all of my most recent wet dreams. He’s a treasure trove of historical information, it’s a shame the only thing I can focus on right now is the way he feels beneath all of that fabric.

  He turns at that exact moment, announcing something to the entire class. Our eyes connect for more than a few seconds, all the while the words still flow from his mouth. I’m transferred back into a time when those exact lips whispered sweet dirty words to me against a certain club wall. Sometimes I dream about it and wake up the next morning expecting it to be nothing but a dream, and then I remember Bean. My little personal souvenir from the last wild night of my life. If only he knew.

  I don’t drop his stare. Still can’t hear the words falling from his lips. Our eyes are having an entire different conversation, and that’s the only one I can focus on. There’s a deep seated fire building in the blue of his irises, and I know if I explored it we might spontaneously combust.

  Want, need, desire. I see it all before he pulls away. He told me he forgot after telling me it was a night he regretted all in the same sentence. So why do I keep finding myself in this same position? Fawning after the one man I know I can’t have. The one man I know doesn’t want me. Because of that right there. He might not realize it, but I see it. I see the subtle hints he drops. The bread crumbs he leaves behind for me to pick up and swallow. Ever since he last brought me home. The day he last gave me hope and insulted me all in the same sentence. The longer this goes on the higher I can feel this tension building between us. I know it’s there, and I know he feels it too. It’s in those heated looks that I get all the confirmation I need.

  It’s not just me this time. It’s Bean too. It sounds completely crazy, but for these sixty minutes a day Bean is completely at ease. I don’t feel sick. I don’t have any nausea. I’m just me. I know it’s completely irrat
ional to think this way. That there’s no way little Bean could know it’s her daddy’s voice lulling her, but that’s my only rational answer. Still I can’t get over him full out asking me if I was pregnant or not. I know there weren’t any rumors. Cohen and I’d be the first to hear them if there were. It had to have been when we ran into each other at the store. Arms full of prenatal vitamins would give anyone away, no matter what the excuse.

  “Now I want everyone's work from last night.” He says with authority in his voice. “The more everyone does the homework, the more everyone will pass each and every lesson.” He keeps talking as he walks up and down each isle. When he gets to my desk I hold my hand out, fingers grasping the thin sheet waiting for him to take it. All he had to do was grasp the other side and add it to his pile. All he needed to do was grab it and move on, but he didn’t. He grabbed it in a way where his fingertips brushed across the tops of mine. His large calloused hand could have wrapped around my own had he just reached a few more centimeters. The minute his fingers touch mine it’s as if a bolt of lightening ricochets all the way up to my elbow. My eyes snap to his in question, and it’s only then I notice the playfulness swimming his baby blues. It’s more than just that though, there’s a promise there as well. A promise for more to come. I can see it in the way he lingers by me. The way he doesn’t pull his fingers away from mine right away. The way his eyes stay with mine for longer than they should.

  “For the rest of class I’d like you all to go over the end of this chapter on your own. I want you to write down what you think are the key parts and tell me why.” He continues his journey around the classroom. “I expect everyone to have it ready to turn in once you walk into class tomorrow.” His voice is affirmative. He leaves no room for any sort of defiance. Everyone automatically does what he says, and immediately crack open all of their books. I on the other hand am lagging. I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket and pull it out expecting Cohen.

  Unknown: Get to work, Miss O’Neil.

  My eyebrows screw together in confusion. What the fuck?