Everything Unexpected

by Caroline Nolan

  “Probably,” I say. “But I don’t care.”

  She laughs. “We’re awful friends. Always sneaking out of the party.”

  Her words remind us both of what happened the last time we snuck out of a party together. It makes her blush and makes me even weaker for her.

  I take her hand and lead us off the dance floor, stopping at the head table so she can grab her purse before we make our way outside the venue. Thankfully we don’t run into anyone, and even if we did, I wouldn’t think twice about pushing them out of our way. I’m not going to let anything stop this night from going the way I want. I hail the first cab I see once outside and help her get in. Once we are on the move, I turn to her and smirk.

  “What?”

  “This,” I say, motioning to the cab. “Reminds me of old times.”

  She shakes her head, looking away from me and out the window. But she does a terrible job at hiding her own smile.

  “HOLY SHIT,” LEAH breathes out after I unlock the front door. “You’ve been robbed!”

  The instant concern in her voice almost makes me laugh. I swing the door open further, ushering her inside. After scanning the living room myself, the thought I was robbed is understandable.

  “No, Comb.” I smile, walking past her, dropping my keys on the kitchen counter. I take off my suit jacket and toss it over the keys, loosening my tie and undoing the top two buttons of my shirt. “I wasn’t robbed.”

  She stays rooted in place, only her eyes moving, taking in how empty the apartment now seems. “Then where’s all your stuff?” her voice pitches.

  I look around the space once more. It’s true, some things are missing. The couch and coffee table, the PlayStation and Xbox, but there’s still quite a bit left scattered around. My photographs are still hanging on the wall, the flat screen still mounted, bar stools still sitting around the counter. “Right here,” I answer.

  “I’m confused,” she says, slowly walking further into the apartment. “Where’s all your furniture? The foosball table??” She points to the corner. “Your laptop is on the floor!”

  I place my hands in the pockets of my pants and roll back on the balls of my feet. “This is my furniture.”

  She looks at me dumbfounded. “Are you not noticing that the couch and table are missing? Your game boxes?”

  This time I do laugh. “Well technically, those weren’t mine to begin with. They were Bryan’s.”

  “Okay, so are you not noticing that Bryan’s stuff is missing? He’s going to be so pissed,” she says. She raises a brow. “Why aren’t you freaking out?”

  “Because, Comb,” I take a few steps towards her. “I know where his stuff is.”

  A look of mild surprise comes over her face. “Oh,” she responds, folding her arms together. “Where is it?”

  “His apartment.”

  Her eyes open wide. “He moved out?” she nearly shrieks. “What? Why? When? Why didn’t you say anything?”

  I grin, amused with watching her right now. “How about you stop with all the questions and let me explain?”

  I take the last two steps I need in order to stand right before her, and for a moment, just stare at her. Appreciate all the little details that make her so perfect. How both her top and bottom lip are full and plump, perfect to bite. How thick and shiny her golden hair is. I know my fingers could get lost in its waves. The lone little freckle just below her left collarbone that I want to kiss so badly. But first, I have something I’ve been wanting to tell her, show her, for weeks. “Follow me,” I say, cocking my head towards the other side of the apartment and extending my hand. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to show you.”

  Her eyes look in the direction I’m headed before she accepts my hand and I lead us towards Bryan’s bedroom. Or to what used to be Bryan’s bedroom. Before I open the door, I look down at her and hope that what she sees behind this door will prove to her just how serious I am about what I’m about to say.

  “I need you to know that I heard everything you were saying to me,” I say quietly. “I didn’t know any other way to show you I heard you.”

  She looks up at me, her eyes narrowing, causing her eyebrows to furrow just the slightest amount. Before she can say anything, I open the door and turn on the light. Her sharp inhale is the only sound I hear.

  I gently coax her into the room, watching as she takes in the dramatic changes the space has gone through. How the bedroom that once belonged to Bryan has now been completely transformed into a fully completed nursery.

  “I—I don’t… Wow.”

  Leah is never speechless so I’m going to take this as a good sign.

  “You like it?” I ask, still wanting confirmation.

  “I—Shane… How could I not?” she answers. “It’s beautiful.”

  She walks further into the room, taking it all in. These last few weeks, Bryan and I have spent all of our free time working to get this room ready. The walls have been painted a light creamy yellow. It’s a nice warm change from the mossy green it used to be. Where Bryan’s queen sized bed used to sit, the white crib that was boxed up for so many weeks takes its place. Soft gray and white bedding fills the crib along with a mobile of dancing animals hanging from it. Leah steps in front of the crib and runs her hand over the soft linens. She picks up the brown stuffed bear sitting in the corner of the crib.

  “This is cute,” she says, biting the inside of her cheek.

  “Bryan’s contribution.”

  She smiles, putting it back in its place. She turns around and sees the overstuffed chair in the corner near the window. I ordered it in a neutral color but threw a blue blanket over top.

  “It glides like a rocking chair,” I say.

  “Still thinking it’s a boy,” she says.

  I shrug, returning her smile.

  The wall off to the side catches her eye and her smile falls from her face. In its place comes a look of complete bewilderment. “What’s this?” she asks, stunned.

  “This,” I begin, “is my favorite part of the room.”

  Her eyes quickly become glassy, a hint of tears shining in the dim light of the room. She takes the few steps she needs to stand right in front of the wall—in front of several hanging picture frames. Two rows of three large, white picture frames, each one filled with black and white photos of her. Each one is a different stage of her pregnancy. In several of them, she wasn’t even aware I was taking her photo. Her eyes gaze at each of the frames, freezing on each one before moving to the next. In one, she’s asleep on what used to be my couch, her hand resting over her barely showing bump. Protecting it, even then. Another I took with my cell phone when we went shopping for baby things. It’s the expression on her face I love the most. So serious in deciding whether she liked the little sleeper in her hands or not. Next to that one, she’s laughing, throwing her head back at Holly and Eddy’s bachelor/bachelorette party, her hands resting on top of her much bigger stomach. But my favorite of them all is the one I took a few months ago. The night we decided to give whatever was happening between us a real shot. She came out of my room wearing my Frankie Says Relax t-shirt and nothing else. And when she walked to the window pushing those curtains aside, I couldn’t help but take her picture. She glowed in the moonlight, silver light reflecting off her face. She scolded me for it taking it then but to this day, it’s still the most honest and beautiful picture I’ve ever taken. I watch as she stays focused on that shot longer than the rest.

  After a minute, she points to the corner frame at the bottom. “This one’s empty,” she points out.

  “I know,” I nod. “It hasn’t been taken yet.”

  I walk to her side, taking her hand in mine and bringing it to my lips. I press her fingers to my mouth before I explain further. “This frame is for our first family shot. The three of us.”

  I feel the tips of her fingers dig into my hand, squeezing them, broken breaths escaping her lips. “Shane,” her voice falters but her lips curve with the faintest of sm
iles.

  It’s now or never, I tell myself. I’m going to say everything I need to say and I’m going to make her listen. To finally hear it. I’m going to get through her stubbornness and make her see we belong together.

  “I hate that you were hurting, Comb,” I begin. She opens her mouth to interrupt but I don’t let her. I will not be stopped this time. I lift my hand, stilling her. She’s had plenty of time to say her part, now it’s my turn. “I hate that it put a space between us we’ve never had before. It drove me crazy being away from you. It drove me crazy you kept me away. But I let you have your space. I gave in, but never did I give up.”

  “Shane—”

  “No, Comb,” I say, seriously. “It’s my turn now.”

  She closes her mouth and lets me continue. “I hated being away from you. Especially these weeks.” I glance down at her midsection. “That night in New York,” I pause, not sure how to really articulate my feelings. “Obviously I didn’t handle the confused feelings I was having for you properly. It drove me crazy thinking of you dating someone else. And I didn’t know how to deal with that. It surprised me. You surprised me. The one person I thought I knew best shocked the hell out of me. You were all I could think about. Still are,” I say with a small laugh. “Of all the people in my life, you are the last one I would ever want to hurt or disappoint. You must know that. You must know that had I had any idea of what you were going through while I was in New York, I would’ve dropped everything to be there with you. I would have held your hand and waited right beside you for those tests results. You believe that, don’t you?”

  I watch a lone tear fall down her cheek as she nods. “I do. I do believe that.”

  Progress. Finally.

  “Good. Because I love you, Leah. I am in love with you. And I hate that a part of you thinks it’s because you got pregnant. Because it’s not,” I say with as much certainty I can convey. “Maybe it jumped started me into realizing my feelings, but they were already there. They had to be. Because what I feel for you is too strong not to have been there for a very long time already. I doubt I’ll be able to tell you how or when I knew, but I can promise you this—I felt every second of it. I’ve felt myself falling for weeks, months. Probably even years.”

  “You think I need time, but I don’t. You said you needed time, but I’m done giving it to you. I’m not willing to waste any more time. We’ve already waited six years. I want to start our next sixty right now. And I know now what it’s going to take to get us there. You were right,” I say.

  Beyond her tearstained eyes, she looks at me a bit puzzled. “About what?” she manages to say.

  “It wasn’t fair of me to expect you to do all the sacrificing. With your job, your life—”

  “No, Shane,” she interrupts. “A lot of what I said…came out of frustration. I didn’t mean it. I know you’ve done your share.”

  I smile, appreciating her words. “Maybe. But it doesn’t mean you weren’t right about some of it. It was naive of me to think I could continue to live my life the way I was and be there for you the way I needed to be. The way I want to be.”

  “You are there for me,” she argues.

  “Not always the way I should be,” I tell her. I shake my head and try to hold in the laugh of irony at what I’m about to admit. “My father was right and I wanted so badly to prove him wrong. To show him my way would work just fine, but he was right. My way only works for me. And it’s not just me anymore. It’s not even just the two of us. There’s three of us now.” I look into her eyes and see that she completely understands what I’m saying. That maybe she’s had some of the same realizations herself. “I took a job with my father,” I tell her.

  Her eyes open wide, mouth opening in shock. “What? Shane, no… You love your job!”

  I nod. “I do. But I love us more,” I say, holding her stare.

  Leah opens her mouth to argue but I silence her by placing my index finger over her open lips. “Stop,” I almost order her. “It’s not exactly what you think. My father and I came to a mutual…agreement. I’ll work in the art department at the firm, help give us some scheduling stability. And in return, I get to be a bit more selective on what outside jobs I take. It will allow us to afford me saying no to certain jobs and wait for the ones I really want. The jobs that are the reason I love taking pictures. So really, it’s a win-win.”

  Leah looks overwhelmed with everything I’ve just laid out in front of her. But I warned her earlier. When I say I’m in, I’m all in. Now I just hope she’s ready to be all in with me. But if she’s not, then I have no problem carrying the weight of us until she gets there on her own. But under one condition.

  “I want you to move in here,” I say. “I want this place to be ours. To start our life as a family here, together. This room is pretty much done but we can work on building the rest of it together. A new couch, a new table. We can paint the bedroom, make it…yours—ours. You can even buy as many pillows as you want.”

  That gets her laughing through her tears. I let her smile settle between us for a moment before I ask the question that will give me the answer to the rest of my life. “What do you say, Comb? Are you in? Do you want to build a life with me?”

  Leah’s tears begin to free fall like a fountain down the sides of her face. “I have been in love with you for so long,” she says, bringing her fingers to my face. “But I’ve never been more in love with you than I am right now.”

  I let out a relieved sigh. “So you’re in?”

  “I’m in,” she says laughing, crying.

  “I’m going to kiss you now,” I tell her, cupping the sides of her face.

  “I’m going to let you.”

  Not even a second later, my lips are on hers. Once again, surrendering to her, promising her all of my future days. I’m too impatient, not waiting to use my tongue to open her mouth and slip inside. I feel her body fall against mine, her breasts pressed against my chest, arms wrapping around my shoulders. I run my hands down her back, over the sequins of her dress.

  “God, I’ve missed you,” my lips pressed against her neck, making their way to that small freckle on her collarbone that’s been calling to me.

  “Me too. So much,” she answers, bringing my mouth back up to hers. She bites my lips playfully at first then does it again a little harder. I pull back slightly, just out of reach. I see want in her eyes matching my own. It’s been weeks since I’ve been able to touch her, taste her, be inside her. But she’s as close to bursting as I’ve ever seen her. I’m not sure how much she can take, how much she can handle.

  “Do you remember how it was the first time?” she asks.

  I blink, nodding. “Of course. I remember everything about that night.”

  She doesn’t say anything else, only looking at me with haze filled eyes. But that look tells me everything I need to know. She’s telling me how she can take it, how she wants it. Just like that night. Fast. Hard.

  Her cheeks flush a shade of pink.

  I grin at her sudden shyness. “How I remember it,” I start, pulling her closer. “You weren’t shy about anything that night.”

  The corner of her mouth arches and she bites her bottom lip. I feel my own rush of blood heading south. I take her hand and lead her out of the nursery. There’s no way I’m going seal this deal in my kid’s new bedroom. The second we’re inside my room, my lips are back on hers. I’m incredibly worked up and immediately feel for the zipper of her dress, needing to touch more of her skin. As I pull the dress down her body, she’s working on the buttons of my shirt, followed by my pants. Soon we’re both standing in the middle of the room in only our underwear.

  I take a minute to admire her body, how much it’s changed since last time I saw her like this. She’s definitely fuller. So much so I’m a little nervous I might hurt her.

  “If I hurt you or you’re uncomfortable, tell me,” I make her promise before touching her skin again.

  “You won’t hurt me,” she answers before
her eyes meet mine. “I know you won’t.”

  I grin, feeling better. “Sit down on the bed,” I order.

  She blinks once before cocking a small smile and turning towards the bed, sitting down on the edge. I go to her, standing between her bent legs. I bend down, running my hands along the inside of her thighs, causing her to squirm before skimming her hips and pulling at the only piece of material left on her body. She lifts her hips up off the bed, helping me rid her of her panties before she lies down on the mattress.

  I tug my own boxer briefs off, letting them fall to the floor before I climb over her, brushing some of the loose hair off the side of her face. She closes her eyes and bites the corner of her lip again, a sure sign she’s definitely getting close to where I want her to be.

  “You are so sexy,” I tell her, running my tongue down the side of her neck.

  “Even looking like this?” she asks, running her hands over my head.

  “Especially like this.”

  There’s something incredibly sexy about a pregnant woman. It makes all of her curves fuller, all of her sensations stronger. Looking at a naked woman is great, but seeing what the woman’s body can do? That’s just fucking unreal.

  I kiss my way down her body, over her breasts, down her round midsection to her hip and then make my way slowly to her center. It’s not until this second I realize just how much I’ve been craving her. All of her—her smell, her taste. I fight the urge to sink immediately inside of her because I want this to last. I want to worship her first. To drive her wild the way I’ve learned how.

  I kneel on the floor, pulling her closer to the edge of the bed. She’s at the perfect height this way. I run my fingers carefully over her, feeling how wet she is. I start to move my fingers in small circles and her hips buckle off the bed.

  I smirk, maybe a little arrogantly.

  “Still so very sensitive.”

  She only moans in response.

  I can’t wait any longer—I need to taste her. I dip my head further between her legs and take everything she has to offer me. I feel her hands reach for me over her stomach, running her fingers over my head. I press my tongue harder against her, holding her in place with my hands. She tastes amazing. Better than I remembered. And the sounds she’s making? Only make me want to fuck her harder than I ever have. Her legs come up around my head and squeeze a little when she starts to come.