by Aiden Bates
I shook my head. “Max is the problem. How do you know?”
The bathroom door creaked open as Anders exited with a cloud of steam, wrapped—barely—in what was meant to be a hand towel.
“Know what?” he asked, raising an eyebrow with interest.
“Cheating.” I bit my lip. “What are the signs?”
Anders shrugged. “It’s not hard to spot it, really. Strange phone calls late at night—”
“Seeing gifts in his briefcase, then never receiving them,” Damon added.
“Cologne on his collar that doesn’t match the bottles on his dresser.”
“Sudden business trips to faraway locales where his phone mysteriously doesn’t work…”
“Give us some context, Ry,” Damon suggested. “Do you think Max is…?”
“What about seeing him with someone else?” I scoffed, trudging across the floor and collapsing onto my moth-eaten couch. “How’s that for a sign?”
Anders cocked his head. “Depends. Seeing him how?”
“Close. Too close.” I buried my face in my hands. “The way I used to catch Kevin with guys who he said were his cousins.”
Damon drew his lips into a long, thin line. A cringe. “No one’s that close to their cousins.”
“This is that guy who whisked you his way to his penthouse up in the Garment District?” Anders asked.
I nodded.
Suddenly, Anders wore a cringe that matched Damon’s. “Let me put it this way—I’ve got three boyfriends in the Garment District right now, and I wouldn’t put money on any of them being faithful to me.”
I sighed. “I don’t do the open relationship thing like you do, though. This…this wasn’t just sleeping around.” Or was it? It hit me again—we’d never really defined our relationship. Just traded I love yous and cum. Not exactly the stuff rom-coms were made of. “Or at least, I didn’t think it was.”
“Ry…” Damon sat down on the couch beside me, placing a hand on my back. “Look, I know you’re not great at this, but give it a shot, okay? You know how Kevin was. You can see the signs now, looking back and knowing what you do. Right?”
“Like a thousand bright red neons rimmed with flashing lights,” I agreed.
“Then think about it. Is that the kind of man Max is? Strip away everything you want him to be. Just look at him for who he is. What’s your gut telling you?”
It was useless. If my gut was telling me anything just then, it was that I needed to go throw up.
“I don’t think he would,” I said softly. “But I saw him outside his office with another man. An Omega. They knew each other, definitely. And…” I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to pull the tears that were clinging to my eyelashes back up into their ducts. “He said he’d never wanted to be a dad.”
Damon drew in a sharp breath. “Ouch. That’s…that’s a pretty big blow.”
Anders only rolled his eyes, though. “Plenty of Alphas don’t want to be dads, Ry. He was probably just freaking out. Having a mid-life crisis or something.”
“He knocked up a stripper in the front seat of his Mercedes,” I countered. “Anders, I am his mid-life crisis.”
“Talk to him,” Damon suggested. “It’s the only way you’re going to get any answers. Maybe he has a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this.”
“Or, consider—fuck him. I mean that both figuratively and literally—and in his bank account too, while you’re at it. He’d obviously loaded. If he’s fucking around on you, might as well take him for everything he’s worth.”
I looked between Anders and Damon, my head spinning. “I don’t understand what either of you are saying right now. You realize that, right?”
“It’s a dicey subject,” Damon admitted. “None of us have all the facts. If you’re looking for advice though—hear his side of things before you go contacting a lawyer.”
“And if you want my advice,” Anders offered, “Sleep with him, put Nair in his shampoo bottle, then bolt. You’ve gotta watch out for these rich assholes, honey. You should only be talking to him through a lawyer.”
I buried my face in my hands. This was all too much—and none of it really made me feel better. I’d been living a happy little fairytale since I’d moved into Max’s place. Seeing him with that other Omega had sent it all crashing down around me with no happily ever after in sight.
“I don’t know what to do,” I groaned.
“Then eat some spaghetti,” Damon suggested. “It’s lunchtime anyway. You can’t choose not to be sad, but at least you can choose not to be hungry.”
At the mention of spaghetti, my stomach growled loudly—but I couldn’t accept Damon and Anders’ charity like that. “That’s your food. I don’t have my wallet on me—and even if I did, I’ve barely got enough to cover next month’s rent once I move back in.”
Damon laughed, rising and shaking his head. “Please, Ry. We’re not going to charge you for spaghetti. You’re letting us crash here, for one thing—and for another, we’re friends.”
“You know, if you want to make some extra cash, you could come back to the club with us tonight.” Anders ruffled my hair then headed back to the bathroom. “You know what Foster always says—we can always use another set of hands on the floor if you don’t want to dance.”
I didn’t even know if I could dance just then. The knowledge that I was pregnant made it feel dirty—and even if I wasn’t pregnant, I didn’t know that I had it in me. Dancing was something that I did when I was happy at best. At worse, it was something I did to take my mind off being sad. But the idea of grinding on some other man made my stomach turn so hard, I wasn’t sure even Damon’s spaghetti could make me recover.
“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “Give me a bit to think about it?”
“Yeah, well—think fast.” Anders craned his neck to look around the cardboard-covered window down to the street below. “Because your loverboy is downstairs.”
“Kevin?” I sat up, feeling the bitter taste of fear gather on my tongue.
“That redheaded stepchild? Not a chance.” Anders whipped off his towel, throwing it over his shoulder as he sauntered back into the bathroom. “If I had to hazard a guess—looks like Max.”
14
Max
The first words out of my mouth when I saw him were, “I know how it looked,” because I did. Ethan’s body pressed against mine like a stamp to an envelope. The words from my mouth, presented in the worst way possible at the worst possible time.
Riley descended the steps from the doorway like an angel. Soft-faced and broken, the whites of his eyes tinged red with tears that I knew I must have caused.
“I only ever told you that you were the father,” he said. His voice cracked on that word: father. Like it wasn’t a noun, but a knife against his windpipe. “I never claimed I expected you to act like one.”
“I didn’t—” I blew out a lungful of air in frustration—not at Riley, but at myself. Pinching the bridge of my nose between my index finger and thumb, I felt every hammer of the headache that had been doing my skull in since I’d gone chasing after him. So many blocks between where I lived and Riley’s apartment. So many of them taken at a run, my hairline was still beaded with sweat.
“You didn’t what, Max?” Riley crossed his arms over his chest, stopping on the last step. It made him an inch taller than I was for once. He had the high ground. “You didn’t fuck that man I saw you with at your office? You didn’t think that taking me in like you did would come with expectations on my end? Or—Christ. Was it just that you didn’t think you’d get caught?”
“I didn’t cheat on you, Riley. I’d never cheat on you. You haven’t known me for long, but I thought you at least knew me better than that.”
Riley stared at me with those scotch-colored eyes of his, bearing down through my skin straight into my soul.
“I don’t know, Max. I don’t think I really know you at all.”
“What the fuck do you want me to say, Ri
ley? If you won’t even listen to me, how do you expect me to make this right?”
That seemed to throw him. He drew back, sucking his lower lip between his teeth as he considered it.
“Start talking then. I’m listening.”
“The man you saw me with. Ethan. My ex.” I raked my fingers through my hair, cursing the day I ever met that cheating piece of shit. “The night I met you—remember that?”
Riley ran his hand over his stomach. “Given the circumstances, I could hardly forget.”
“Right. Then understand—the only reason I was at the Ballroom that night was because I’d walked in on him with another man’s cock in his mouth. I ended it, then I went out. Found Heaven’s. Found you. You fell into my lap like a fucking—well, like an angel, Riley. Whatever darkness was swirling around in this thick skull of mine that night, you washed it away like a goddamn sunrise.”
He raised an eyebrow. “How poetic of you.” He didn’t sound impressed.
“Then that night at the gala—remember that?”
He nodded slightly. “Your boss seemed to think I was a prostitute. I haven’t forgotten.”
“Ethan was there that night too. I should’ve told you—should’ve warned you about him then. He threw himself at me, and before I could explain to you that my asshole of an ex was making big plans for getting me back, I saw you there in the hallway with Hayward. Saw you in danger. After that, everything else went right out of my head.”
He scoffed. “And the days after that? There was no point in time between all the movies and fucking this weekend that you could’ve mentioned your ex was still hanging around you like a black cloud?”
“I didn’t want to ruin it.” I hung my head, rubbing the back of my neck in frustration. “We were so fucking happy this weekend, Riley. Hell—I didn’t want it to end. To the point that I was headed to the elevator to surprise you over lunch…”
“At which point, your ex showed up and surprised you instead.” His voice was softening. It gave me hope.
“What you heard between Ethan and I…it wasn’t a fucking disavowing, Riley. No, I never planned on having a baby. When I met you, I was single and I was stupid and I had no idea that there could be anything more than just one night between you and I…”
“And then I went and got pregnant and you were stuck with me.”
“You didn’t go and get pregnant, Riley. We did this together. The both of us. If you think I’d change that for anything, maybe you’re right. You really don’t know me at all.”
The air left his chest in a ragged pant. It made my own lungs burn to watch. I’d hurt him. I couldn’t change that. But I would’ve burned the whole damn city to the ground if I thought I could make it better. From Harlem to the Brooklyn Bridge, I’d let it all catch fire until the tourists in the helicopters overhead could read the message in the streets: I’m sorry. I’m an asshole. Forgive me.
“Max…” He shook his head. “You’re not the only one who got cheated on that night, you know. But I’m not like you. I’m not good at this. I can’t tell the truth from half-truths from lies. What we had—”
“What we have.”
“—It’s so new still. All of this is new to me. And it’s not just me that I have to think about anymore.” He ran his hand over his stomach again, fingers curling against his t-shirt like he was searching for that stirring feeling in his womb. Making sure the baby was still even there, growing beneath his skin.
“I’m not just thinking about myself anymore either,” I pointed out. “Ethan doesn’t occupy a single fucking neuron in my mind, Riley. You, though. Our baby. My hierarchy of concern begins and ends with the two of you. Everything else is just…fuck.”
“It’s sweet of you to say that.”
“I’m not just saying it. I mean it.”
He looked away from me. “Maybe you do. Or maybe it’s just more lies. How the fuck am I supposed to know?”
I pressed my thumbnail against the knuckle of my index finger, chipping away at the skin there until it burned. “You don’t know. If you want the truth, there it is. You’ll never know for sure.”
He sighed. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Suddenly, my mouth was bone dry. “Yeah. Me too.”
“So where do we go from here?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know the answer to that. All I know is that I fucking love you, Riley. Those aren’t just words to me—I love you. Beyond that…it’s just faith, I guess.”
“I’m not much of an angel in that sense, Max. Faith is one thing I’m running a little short on right now.”
“Then give me a chance to prove myself to you. We’ve had so little time together…I get it, Riley. I really do. But a week from now—a month—”
“That’s all you think it will take to fix this? A month of my time?”
I took a step toward him. It was all I could do to stop myself from claiming every inch of space between my body and his—from sweeping him up in my arms and holding him so tight, he’d have no choice but to believe that when I said shit like I love you, I meant it. Every damn time.
I’d settle for his hand. I reached out to him, palm facing upwards, hoping that he’d place his fingers over mine.
“I don’t know what it will take to make you trust me,” I told him. “But whatever it is—I’m all in, Riley. I’m game.”
He looked at my hand for a few long, lingering seconds. They felt like years to me. Time slipping through the cracks in my fingers and trickling down onto the street beneath my shoes.
“I don’t know, Max. I…I need to get my head straight. Figure some shit out for myself.”
My hand fell back to my side in defeat. “And you can’t do that with me.”
He shook his head slowly, his voice full of regret as he spoke. “I don’t think I can, no.”
I shoved my hands in my pockets, running a thumb over the screen of my phone when I found it there. “You’ve got my number. Will you call me? When you’re ready?”
“I might.”
“I can’t settle for might, Riley. Christ—you’ve got no idea what you’ve given me. Don’t take it away like this.”
His hand ran over his stomach a final time before he turned away. “I’m sorry, Max. Right now, maybes are all I’ve got.”
I watched him ascend back up the steps to his apartment building. Suddenly, I knew how the apostles must’ve felt after they’d touched their Lord and Savior for the last time.
“I’ll wait for you,” I called after him.
The only answer I got was the sound of the door closing behind him, shutting me out of his life.
I waited around for longer than I should have. Felt scummy doing it—like that ex of Riley’s, lurking around his apartment building, hoping for mercy that I still wasn’t sure I deserved.
I crossed the street and settled down on a park bench. Felt a little less scummy that way. Kept waiting for the door to open again—for Riley to come rushing out toward me while I fended off the cabs and the gridlock so I could kiss him in the middle of the street like the characters always seemed to do in those movies he liked so much.
I waited there until the sun started sinking beneath the buildings. My phone buzzed twice—work, probably. Maybe Ethan, as if the universe hadn’t already fucked me over enough for one day. It didn’t matter. I didn’t check to find out for sure. I had Riley’s number set to a ringtone in my cell, that Sinatra song we’d danced to on the night of the gala.
It was funny—or it would’ve been, if it wasn’t so sad. I could remember my mom singing me Sinatra songs before I fell asleep at night as a child, cold Midwestern winds blowing in through the space where the window didn’t quite meet the wall. Curtains fluttering as she tucked the blankets around me, like a few layers combined with the sound of her voice could warm away the night.
I thought growing up poor like that was the coldest I’d ever be in all my life—but sitting there across the street from Riley’s apartment, I felt even colder
still. He’d taken the goddamn sun with him when he’d closed that door on me. Didn’t matter what my watch said; I didn’t think it’d rise again until I had him back at my side.
When Riley’s door finally opened again, my heart skipped three beats and rolled around in my chest like it was being rocked by the tides. But it wasn’t just Riley that came out through it. Two of his friends—coworkers, if I had to guess from the way they were already made up for work—came out before him, with Riley lagging behind carrying a duffel bag. They hailed a cab headed in the direction of Heaven’s Ballroom. Must’ve been a working night.
An awful thought struck me as I watched Riley climb into the backseat with them. If he wasn’t letting me support him anymore, then it only made sense that Riley was going back to work. As a dancer? A cocktail waiter? A bartender, maybe? It didn’t matter. I didn’t care.
I watched the love of my life disappear down the pothole-riddled street along with the red of the cab’s taillights. With a pang in my chest, I hailed a cab of my own.
He said he’d needed time—not space. It was a loophole I was willing to take advantage of. The last time I’d let Riley out of my sight, I’d regretted it with every fiber of my being.
I wasn’t about to let it happen again. Not to my Omega. The father of my child.
Not tonight.
15
Riley
“So I finally finish my audition and the asshole that owns the Backdoor is just like, ‘Okay, but can you lose twenty pounds or so? You’re looking a little fat up there.’”
Anders poked Damon in the stomach and gave a disbelieving laugh. “I’m calling bullshit. You don’t have a pound of fat on you.”
“That’s what I thought! So I ask him, ‘Okay, where are you seeing all of this fat?’ And you won’t fucking believe where he points.”
“His own over-inflated ego?”
“Nope—my abs. He’s like, ‘All of that fat there! Your stomach is so…bumpy!’”