“I’m starved.” I rub my stomach for emphasis. “When are we eating?”
Thea wipes her hands on an apron—yeah, a fucking apron. It’s almost laughable. Almost.
“Five more minutes,” she says.
Xael sits in some little plastic seat contraption on the island, making all kinds of baby noises, like she’s trying to tell us to pay attention to her and stop talking to each other.
Nova perches on an empty bar stool and I stand beside her, my arm touching hers.
“How was Paris?” Rae asks.
It feels like forever since we’ve been there—like we shouldn’t even be talking about it—but since we haven’t seen our friends since before the trip their curiosity is understandable.
“Beautiful,” Nova tells her. “The architecture, the history, it’s incredible.” She gets a wistful smile, and the look in her eyes does something to me. I know Nova was reluctant to go in the first place, but it was what we both needed.
Thea places some platters on the island. “You guys can take these into the dining room. I’ll be there in a minute.”
We all grab a dish of food, except for Xander who gets the baby.
We set the dishes down and take seats.
Thea carries in a huge rotisserie chicken and sets it in the middle.
“Let’s eat,” she declares.
I pile my plate full with chicken, mashed potatoes, rolls, and skip the vegetables because who needs green stuff?
“How’s the business going?” Nova asks Rae.
“Good, really good.” Rae nods, taking a sip of water. “I’ve got a bunch of senior sessions booked for summer, and weddings too. My schedule is almost completely full.”
“That’s amazing,” Nova says, and I know she means it but I can also sense her sadness. I know she wants to be focusing on her photography and not working at the record store, but she’s just not there yet. Realistically, she doesn’t need to work, I can support us with my trust fund, but I know Nova doesn’t want that. She likes getting out and having her independence and I won’t try to take anything away from her.
“What’s up with you, dude?” Cade asks, tipping his beer at me. “Are you going to work at the bar for the rest of your life?”
I swallow thickly. It’s a legitimate question but not one I like. I went to school for music. I have a fucking degree. But I never figured out what to do with it.
I’m sure the answer seems obvious to most people, but not to me.
I don’t really want to sing in front of a huge audience, but I also don’t know if I want to sell my songs. Most are personal, and to put something like that out there …
“Seems like it,” I mutter.
Cade sets down his beer and I know I’m in for a lecture.
“You’re too good for that place. You’re talented, Jace. Why can’t you see that?”
Nova squeezes my knee beneath the table. She’s encouraged me so much over the years to do something with my music, and even though I tell her my reservations, she’s still on my ass to do something about it. I can’t really blame her—if she didn’t pursue her love of photography I’d be pushing her the same way she does me. That’s what you do when you love someone—you’re the wind that lifts them to their dreams.
I shrug. “It’s complicated.”
“What’s complicated? All through high school all you talked about was your music—you even pissed your dad off by getting a degree in it. And now you’re going to be a bartender for the rest of your life?”
His words cut deep, especially when I think about the fact I’m going to be a father.
Do I really want my kid telling people his dad works at a bar?
I want to be someone my son or daughter can be proud of. I was never proud of my dad. I don’t want to pass my shame down to my child.
“I’m still figuring things out,” I reply.
Cade narrows his eyes on me. “Dude, you’re almost thirty. You better figure that shit out fast.”
“No cussing in front of the baby,” Xander hisses, covering the baby’s ears where she sits in his lap.
I pick at my food so I can ignore the stares of my friends, but most importantly of the girl at my side that I know only wants me to succeed.
“I’ll know when it’s the right time,” I finally mumble.
Cade makes some sort of noise like he either doesn’t believe me or thinks I’ll finally decide the right time is when I’m ninety.
Nova wiggles in her chair beside me and clears her throat. “I—uh—we have some news.”
Our friends look at us, brows furrowed. I know the last thing they’re thinking is baby. More than likely they’re thinking I finally grew a pair and asked my girl to marry me. Honestly, they’ve beaten the marriage thing into the ground. Nova and I made a universal decision marriage wasn’t for us and I don’t know why people can’t fucking respect that.
Nova looks at me, and I look at her. I give her a nod, telling her to go on. I won’t spill the beans, I want her to be sure she’s ready to tell them. If she changes her mind and blurts something else I’ll stand beside her.
She nervously fiddles with her napkin.
“Come on,” Thea snaps. “I’m growing gray hairs here. Are you guys moving or something?”
Nova shakes her head. “No,” she hedges. “We’re … we’re having a baby,” she blurts.
Silence.
The kind of silence that seems loud, like a roaring train, or the ocean crashing down on you.
They blink at us, looking like they’re waiting for us to say, “Haha gotcha!”
I put my arm around Nova and, when they don’t say anything, I add, “We’re serious.”
“Excuse me for my bluntness, but was it an accident like these two?” She points to Thea and Xander.
“Hey,” Xander defends. “Don’t call my baby an accident.”
Thea snorts. “Well, she was.”
Nova shakes her head. “No, this baby was most definitely planned and wanted.”
Our friends continue to look at us like we’re crazy. I can’t say I didn’t expect it, but it makes me angry on Nova’s behalf. She doesn’t deserve this.
When I can’t take the silence anymore, I growl, “Can’t you guys be fucking happy for us?”
Thea shakes her head. “It’s not that we’re not happy, I think we’re all shocked. No offense, but the way you two are, and then the no marriage thing, I think we all assumed that meant no babies too.”
“Well, you were wrong.”
“Does this mean you guys are going to get married now?” Rae asks.
“What does marriage have to do with raising a child? There are plenty of married people who are shit at it. I think Nova’s parents are proof. Owen’s too.” I’d say mine too, but my mom … She was fucking wonderful. It was my dad who was an asshole.
Rae swallows. “I don’t know, I thought it might be easier.”
“Easier how?”
“You know, to explain. Do you want your child growing up with parents who aren’t married?”
“What does it matter?” I snap, my anger simmering beneath my skin ready to boil over. “If we’re good parents and take care of our kid and are there for them that’s what matters.”
I don’t know why it’s such a hard fucking concept to grasp. A ring doesn’t unite you, a ring doesn’t make you a decent human being, what’s in your heart does.
Rae looks at me wide-eyed and her cheeks flush with shame.
Good.
“This is what we want,” I tell them, since Nova’s silent at my side, hurt radiating off her. “We want a family and we didn’t want to wait any longer. This child is going to be so loved by us and it won’t matter whether we’re married or not, because there will be no doubt in our child’s mind that I love his or her mother, and she loves me.”
I take a deep breath, using it to calm and center myself. I don’t like to lose my temper like this, but the fact Nova was so nervous to tell them and they act
exactly as she and even I expected pisses me the fuck off.
“I’m sorry,” Rae says, and her tone is sincere. “I’m happy for you guys. Even though we’re not related by blood, I can’t wait to be that baby’s auntie.”
Nova exhales a sigh of relief and murmurs, “Thank you.”
“If it’s a girl, you can have some of Xael’s clothes if you want. She’s a beast and outgrows everything in a day, I swear,” Thea says.
Nova laughs and I feel my body relax by a smidge.
All that matters to me is how she feels. That’ll always be the most important thing to me.
“Well, I personally think Xael will love having a playmate,” Xander says with a smile and I nod at him in thanks.
If there’s anyone you can count on to be positive it’s Xander.
Nova’s hand finds mine and she looks up at me with a small smile.
This is the biggest adventure we’re ever going to go on, and I wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else.
Nova
I run from the kitchen into the bathroom and fall to my knees, making it to the toilet in the knick of time.
Almost immediately Jace is there, pulling my too long hair away from my face and rubbing my back softly.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he murmurs.
I managed to get by the first two months of my pregnancy with no morning sickness, but now this baby is making its presence known.
I finish retching and collapse back on my butt, exhausted. I can barely keep food down right now and it’s making me weak. I know I have to try to stomach something, if not for me then for the baby, but it’s like everything I try to eat eventually comes up.
Jace stands and grabs a cloth, wetting it with cool water.
He bends and presses it to my forehead. I give him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”
He sits down beside me, stretching out his long legs. They nearly touch the wall on the opposite side of the bathroom—granted, the bathroom isn’t that large.
When I feel like I can stand without the nausea coming back, I do, and Jace holds onto my elbow to steady me.
I brush my teeth and Jace watches me in the mirror. I finish, wipe my mouth with a towel, and turn to face him.
“This baby is trying to kill me.”
He chuckles. “Nah, it just wants to show you who’s boss.”
I sigh. “Yeah, seems like it.”
Jace places his hand on my stomach. I have the slightest bump now, it’s not noticeable to anyone that’s not very familiar with my body, which Jace is, of course.
“Must mean it’s a boy.” He winks.
“I tend to agree—this baby already irritates me as much as its father.”
He tosses his head back and laughs. “You love me.”
I sigh. I do. I really do.
We still haven’t told my parents about the baby. It doesn’t seem like something you tell your parents over the phone, but then again, they’ve never really been my parents. A part of me feels like we should fly to my hometown and tell them, I think it’s the hopeful part of me that wants to think they’ll be happy for me and maybe even excited. It’s pathetic, I know. But I think there’s a part of us, no matter how old we get, that craves our parents’ approval. There comes a time, when you have to accept it’s never going to happen.
“Do you want to try to eat something else?” Jace asks.
I gag at the thought alone.
He laughs. “I’ll take that as a no.”
“A definite no.”
In the beginning of my pregnancy I ate non-stop. Now I can barely eat a cracker.
“I have to go into work early,” Jace reminds me. “Eli wants me to hang some kind of fucking decorations for Christmas—every year he ropes me into this. I think it’s so he can look at my ass on the ladder.”
I look him up and down and wag my brows. “You do have a nice ass, I’m lucky you’re my baby daddy.”
He growls and grabs my cheeks in my hands. “Say it again.”
“What part?” I challenge.
“You know what part.”
“Baby daddy.”
He presses his lips to mine, stealing my breath. His tongue slips past my lips, tangling with mine, and I can’t help the moan that escapes me.
He pulls away, out of breath. “I can’t tell you how fucking happy it makes me to know I put a baby in you.”
I roll my eyes. “Guys,” I mutter.
He chuckles. “I can’t help it, baby—you bring out my animalistic side.”
“You need to go to work,” I remind him, knowing he’ll get distracted with naughty thoughts and the next thing I know he’ll be fucking me on the bathroom floor.
“Work, right.” He grunts, none too pleased at the idea.
He lets me go and we both leave the bathroom. He puts on his beanie and grabs his coat.
“See you tonight.” He presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth and dashes out the door, his truck keys jingling in his coat pocket.
I change my clothes into something warmer than the leggings and white tank I was wearing in the apartment. I have plans to meet Joel at his apartment. He’s been working to get everything set up in his spare room. He hasn’t let me see and it’s taken him and me months to pool our money to get the equipment we need. I could’ve asked Jace for it, I know, but I didn’t want to do that. This is mine. I want to know Joel and I did this on our own.
I slip my feet into a pair of boots and put on my coat. My hair is a disaster so I quickly gather it up in a messy bun, getting it out of my way.
I grab my keys and head out the door.
Jace and I know we need to get a car that’s better suitable for the baby. His truck is ancient and only has front seats. My car is also old and not reliable at all. He offered to buy me a new one last year for my birthday but I shot down the idea. Again, I didn’t want him spending that kind of money on me. It made me feel icky. I still have these residual feelings of not wanting to be a burden, and I don’t think they’re ever going to go away.
I push my thoughts out of my mind and dash out the door.
Outside, the air is chilly and I burrow into my coat as I walk to my car.
I unlock it and slip inside, starting it and turning the heat all the way up.
My car takes forever to warm up so I’m sure I’ll be a frozen Popsicle by the time I get to Joel’s.
I rub my hands together and pull my gloves out of my coat pocket and put them on, hoping they’ll help.
I send Joel a quick text, letting him I know I’m on my way, and pull out into traffic.
Joel’s apartment isn’t far from us—in the spring and summer I could easily walk to it, but since I’m pregnant I have no desire to get stuck in the cold. Most women talk about being hot when they’re pregnant but I’m the complete opposite. I’m cold most of the time. Luckily, Jace makes an excellent space heater.
I parallel park and grab my bag then hurry into the building. It’s older than ours, but still nice with historic charms, but there aren’t any elevators. I head up the stairs and to his apartment, pausing outside the door and knocking.
It isn’t long until the door swings open, revealing Joel. He gives me a goofy smile and shakes his unruly curly brown hair out of his eyes.
“Hey, Nova,” he greets me, and steps aside to let me in.
“The place is looking good,” I tell him.
I’ve only been here a few times when he first moved in and boxes were still all over the place. Most of the time we meet up out somewhere to catch up so I haven’t seen it since he’s been settled.
Large windows overlook the street. The kitchen is small and could use some updating but it’s neat and tidy.
He has a small grey loveseat in the living space and a big screen TV—boys and their priorities.
On the other side of the apartment are the two bedrooms with a bathroom between them.
He closes the door behind me and grabs a baseball cap off a side table by the door. He puts it on backw
ard, using it to keep his hair from bothering him.
“Ready to see it?” he asks, his smile growing so dimples pop out in his cheeks.
I nod eagerly. “I can’t wait.” I shrug out of my coat and since there’s nowhere to hang it up I drape it over the back of the couch before following him to the spare room.
“We need a drumroll,” he declares, and before I can respond he raps his knuckles against the door. “Okay, here we go.”
He swings the door open and steps inside.
I follow.
Everything is perfect.
There are props and backdrops rolled up so we have plenty to use and change. There are professional lights and blackout curtains cover the windows. The room itself is painted a deep purple and the old hardwood floors are exposed. I spin around, imagining all the sets we can put together and the fun we can have.
I finally stop and look back at him. He watches me apprehensively, like he’s worried I might hate it.
“It’s perfect.”
He lights up. “Really?”
I nod. “You did great. Now we have to get clients.”
I sniffle and wipe a tear from my eye.
Joel chuckles. “You’re emotional when you’re pregnant.”
“Shut up.” I smack his arm lightly and he laughs.
“So, I guess it’s time we start advertising our services.”
I wrinkle my nose. “It sounds dirty when you put it that way.”
He gives me a look. “I am single.”
“Ew, can we just not?”
He suppresses another laugh. “Okay, fine. We need to come up with a business name too. Nothing we’ve talked about has ever stuck, but we don’t have much choice now. We can’t be nameless.”
“I’m going to need some coffee for this,” I tell him.
My doctor said it was okay to continue drinking a little coffee—halle-fucking-lujah for small miracles.
“Sure, sure,” Joel agrees.
We leave the room behind and I take a seat on his couch while he makes the coffee.
He pours two mugs and carries them over, handing one to me.
I curl my legs under me. “Do you have a pen and paper? Maybe it’ll help if we write them down.”
“Yeah, I have some around here somewhere. Give me a minute.”
Broken Hearts (Light in the Dark Book 5) Page 9