It allowed me the chance to decorate my small, but stylishly furnished apartment. The key to making any place feel welcome was how you decorated it. The theme was what made it stand out.
At least, that’s what I believed. I told my clients that all the time, and my apartment was no exception. If anything, I used it as an example of what could be done with the right mindset.
I had the sudden urge to buy something pretty to make myself feel better, or maybe I would go skinny dipping somewhere and burn off some steam.
All my girlfriends claimed they admired my job, and my trendy lifestyle, but one by one, they all began to settle down. I scoffed at first, dismissing their notions of love and stability.
Why would I want that when I had fun and spontaneity?
Why would I give that up for something normal and steady? It didn’t seem worth it, and I said as much, but as long they were happy, good for them.
It didn’t bother me at first because I still had a lot of friends who were like me. Women who liked to dress to the nines and every now again party till the early hours of the morning. Every now and again, I would go crazy and do something wild just to keep things interesting.
A few weeks ago, I decided to get a tattoo on my shoulder.
It said ‘I just wanna live while I’m alive’. A tribute to Bon Jovi. These were lyrics I truly believed in, and it was a motto I tried to live by. Consciously, I touched the back of my shoulder where the tattoo was and smiled.
My mouth twitched as I spread my legs out ahead of me and reminisced.
Tenley, my little sister, was getting married.
I just couldn’t believe it.
I was in my late 20’s, entering my 30’s, and I’d never even had a committed relationship, and my little sister who was four years my junior was going to settle down and have a mortgage.
A white picket fence and the works.
Jeez.
How time flew.
And how things changed.
Realizing that my train of thought was far too depressing, I decided to get up, get dressed and go out. I wasn’t going to be able to find happiness at the bottom of a glass, but I could try.
With that thought in mind, I put on a cute short dress, quickly blow dried my hair, applied some eyeliner and lip gloss, then headed out the door.
There was a bar a few blocks away from where I lived that I’d never been to, so I decided to try my luck there. The pulsing music helped keep my sad thoughts at bay, and the steady stream of drinks helped me forget why I was here to begin with.
I struck up a conversation with a blonde bartender with a pink streak who chatted aimlessly with me till she finished her shift. The vodka pumped its way through my system, and I began to smile lazily as we chatted easily.
After a while, we were joined by her roommate.
And holy shit was he hot.
I had to tilt my head to look up at him because he towered over me, and his blue eyes were scorching. He was giving me a slow and sexy smirk that sent shivers of desire racing up and down my spine.
Who was this guy?
My heart did a weird little flutter when he kept me from falling off my chair, but I was so wasted that I patted his cheek.
I wanted to die during that moment.
I couldn’t believe I’d done that, but there was nothing to do except pretend I’d done it on purpose, so I just smiled and rolled with it. What I didn’t expect was for him to stay after that.
A lot of other guys would’ve just left at that point.
They’d have labeled me as a dramatic wild streak that was fun to watch, but better to keep your distance. Dean just listened to me babble on and about my sister, and he seemed to be listening.
I couldn’t tell if my impression of him was because of the vodka, or because he was genuinely nice. Either way, it didn’t matter. I was just here to have fun, not overthink.
When he offered to take me home, I said yes.
Later, I wondered if that was a good idea, but I figured I’d throw out logic and sound reasoning and just go where the wind took me.
I remembered him chuckling as I leaned my head against the car window, allowing the cool air to clear my head a little. The way he smelled, and the intense way he focused on the road as he drove me home.
It wasn’t that I was spying on him, I just noted all of this through a thin flimsy haze as we stopped outside my place. I expected him to wake me up. Instead, he gathered me into his arms and carried me up the stairs.
With little effort, he managed to get the door open while balancing me against his chest, not that I minded. He had a strong and firm chest, and his clothes smelled like fabric softener.
The good kind.
I inhaled deeply trying to commit his scent to memory. It was oddly comforting, and I wanted to bottle it up and carry it around with me.
It was strange how this smell suddenly seemed more attractive than normal. It intermingled with the scent of his cologne, something spicy and sweet that I couldn’t identify.
The result was a heady combo that I couldn’t get enough of.
I wanted to bury my face in his neck and just stay there for days while I let the world around me chug forward and do its thing.
It was over much too soon as he cradled my head carefully and used the back of his leg to kick my front door closed. He made a beeline for the couch and gently deposited me onto it. I peeked one eye open and saw him glance around the apartment in interest.
“What do you think?” I slurred as I cleared my throat and rubbed my eyes.
Startled, he wheeled around and smiled sheepishly. “It’s very nice. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t,” I assured him. “I’m not a heavy sleeper.”
“Oh, okay.” He shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Come here.” I tucked my legs underneath me and patted the couch invitingly. He stared at as if unsure what do then he trudged forward and perched on the edge.
I laughed. “You can relax. I don’t bite, much.”
“Something tells me that’s not entirely true.” He smiled as he craned his neck, so he was looking at me.
“Really? What makes you think that?”
“Call it a hunch.” He shrugged as he crossed one leg over the other.
“Would you care to test that theory?” I asked, playfully as I scooched closer on the couch.
He laughed nervously. “I’m not sure you want to do that.”
“No?” I raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”
“You’re drunk, Kaitlyn, and I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do,” he pointed out, kindly.
He was a good guy, too.
Not just hot.
“Who says I’m doing something I don’t want to do?” I placed my hand on his arm and allowed my fingers to graze his skin. I could feel him respond to my touch, but for some reason, he still wasn’t making any moves.
It was making me frustrated.
Why wasn’t he doing anything?
“I don’t know.” He swallowed thickly, and I saw the war wage within his blue irises. “Are you?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m not. We’re both here, aren’t we? Willing and consensual adults.”
“Yes, but we should both be in the right frame of mind,” he said, and I could hear the conflict in his voice. His body was leaning into me, reveling in my touch, but his logical brain was telling him not to take advantage.
It was sweet, but unwelcome at this point.
I wanted him all over me.
“And you think I’m not?”
“Yes.”
“Because I’m drunk?”
“That’s right.”
“Is there anything I can say to convince you otherwise?” I whispered as I leaned in and began to nibble on his earlobe.
The rest was, as they say, history.
I blinked, and my entire body flushed in embarrassment as I hastened out of bed and threw on a robe… I placed my
head in my hands and groaned.
“I’m so sorry,” I mumbled. “I have no idea why I didn’t remember, and you were so nice to me too.”
I peeked at him from behind my hands, and he was shifting awkwardly as he bent over and held a pair of pants in front of him. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not, but you’re sweet to think that. So, did we actually…?”
“Yeah,” he confirmed as he shifted and turned his back on me. He slipped on his jeans, giving me an ample view of his ass as his back was to me.
“Oh.”
I wasn’t sure what to say. I removed my head from my hands, crossed one leg over the other and lifted my head up.
“So…” I trailed off as I clasped my hands in front of me and began combing my hands through my hair, a nervous habit I’d picked up in college.
“Kaitlyn, I had a great time last night, but don’t worry. You don’t owe me anything,” he assured me as he gave me a small smile.
“Really?” I asked.
“Really.” He nodded as he reached forward and stood in front of me. He reached out his hand and patted me.
Like I was a stray animal.
My lips twitched in amusement as I gazed up at him with wide eyes. We locked eyes and stared at each other for the longest time, the minutes slowly ticking by.
“Well,” he said, finally as he cleared his throat. “I’d better get going.”
“Okay,” I responded. “I’ll see you.”
“Yeah, see you.”
A few seconds later, he was out the door, and it slammed shut behind him. I shook my head as I looked at the spot he occupied a few minutes ago.
When did my life get so derailed? I had a plan, and now I was so off track.
I stood up abruptly, kicked of the robe and hopped into the shower. I let the hot water slide off my skin, soothing my aching muscles as I let my thoughts just drift away.
I was going to get my life back where it belonged.
I had no idea how, or where to even start, but I was determined to try. With that in mind, I toweled off, determined not to think about Dean, and the wild night we had. Or the way his hands felt sliding all over me body, bringing me to the brink over and over again.
I had to shake off those thoughts, or I wouldn’t be able to keep my head in the game. It was one night, and that was that.
I stopped by Starbucks on the way to work and ordered my usual caramel macchiato as I slipped my glasses on.
4
Dean
I couldn’t let her get away again.
I don’t know what made me chase after her in the first place when she made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with me. Baby or otherwise.
Clearly, I needed my head examined, and yet as that thought crossed my mind, I found myself running after her like we were some kids in a kindergarten playground.
It was quite disconcerting.
And surreal.
Why was I chasing after her again?
Sure, I found her attractive, funny and smart, and we had an amazing night together, but that was it. What did we really have that tied us together except for our unborn child?
That was something I didn’t need to be chasing her for.
I had parental rights just like she did.
Although in most cases, the mother tended to have more rights, but I was determined to be a part of the baby’s life. As much as she’d let me.
I knew I shouldn’t have slipped up that night, but I had a few drinks myself, and she was so hard to resist. I thought I was careful when I slipped the condom on, but I guess it was just one of those times when it didn’t do its job right.
Just my luck.
Or rather, our luck.
She was weaving in and out of pedestrian traffic, gaining a few curious looks on her way, and I would’ve found the whole situation funny if I wasn’t smack dab in the middle of it.
I was the idiot in some hoodie and sweatpants who was chasing after the woman wearing a V-neck dress, hair flying behind her. What a pair we made.
She was still in my line of vision when I saw her leg get caught on a loose pavement, and her shoe came off. She went flying forward but was able to right herself before she dove headfirst into the pavement.
I propelled myself forward until I stopped where her shoe was, and I bent over to pick it up. The pointy tip was caught in between the cracks of the pavement, so I grunted as I tried to wrestle it free.
Damn it.
Why were women’s shoes such a death trap?
Why couldn’t they be simple and sturdy like ours?
I cursed as it finally gave way, and I yanked backwards nearly toppling over in the process. I ran my hands over my face, wiping off the sweat as I caught up to her.
“Kaitlyn!” I cupped my hands over my mouth as I called out to her. “Wait, stop!”
I tapped her on the shoulder and immediately retracted my hands.
She froze as she stopped. Her hands clenched into fists around her keys, and her shoulders tensed as she spun around to face me.
Her brown eyes were blazing with indignation as she faced me. They were filled with such bitterness and vehemence that I nearly took a step back, but instead I held firmly in place.
“What? What do you want?” she barked as she drew herself up to her full height, struggling to balance herself on one shoe.
Wordlessly, I held up her shoe, and it dangled between us, sort of like a piece offering. “You left your shoe behind.”
It reminded me of that fairytale my sister used to love watching.
Cinderella.
Ironic that it was her shoe that she left behind.
Kaitlyn stared at the shoe as if she was trying to make out what it was. Then she looked at me. Then back at the shoe again. She did this for a few minutes, and I waited quietly while she processed.
I could see that the gears in her brain were shifting, churning away at whatever emotional turmoil she was going through kept going on.
Finally, she snorted and began to giggle quietly until it turned into full blown laughter. I smiled awkwardly as I wondered what she found so funny.
“You’re a regular Prince Charming, aren’t you?” she questioned as she peered at him before she took her shoe.
In any other situation, I might’ve been flattered, but the sneer on her face, and the bitterness reflected in her eyes let me know that it wasn’t a compliment.
To top it off, her head was tilted to the side, and her tone was dripping with sarcasm.
She didn’t mean it in a good way.
I wondered why.
It wasn’t like I’d done anything to her.
Her laughter eventually died down, and I was left with my lips pursed and my eyebrows raised.
“When you’re finished laughing, let me know.”
She cleared her throat. “Yes, I am. Why?”
“Okay, I want to know what the hell your problem is,” I said as I crossed my arms over my chest and pinned her with a look.
She shifted as she averted her gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Really? You’re playing that card now?” I asked, incredulously.
“What card?” she asked, dumbly.
“You know what I’m talking about, Kaitlyn,” I said, frustration lacing my tone as I ran my hands through my hair. “You run so hot and cold that it’s hard to keep up.”
“What are you talking about? I do not run hot and cold. You can’t say that. You don’t even know me,” she accused as she took off her other shoe and tossed them both into her car.
I threw my hands up in the air. “And who’s fault is that? I liked you, Kaitlyn. I really did, but you never gave me a chance. The only time you gave me the time of day was when you were trying to seduce me, which by the way, you didn’t even remember. After that, you acted like I had the plague. What was I supposed to think?”
“What was I supposed to do? I was depressed and drunk,” she said, defensively “You can’t nail
me for that.”
“I’m not nailing you for that,” I insisted. “What I can nail for you though is the fact that you never tried to get in touch me with after that. You knew my friend, and you knew where she worked.”
“Well, you didn’t try to get in touch with me either,” she retorted, triumphantly. “So, pot calling the kettle black.”
“How was I supposed to get in touch with a woman who was so drunk she couldn’t remember seducing me, and who treated me like I did her wrong the next day?” I asked, a little too harshly.
I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth, but it was too late to take them back, and I could see by the way that she reeled backwards that she didn’t expect that. She looked hurt by my comment, but there was nothing I could do.
It might’ve seemed cold and unfeeling, but it was the truth, and sometimes the truth did just that.
“I’m sorry, that came out wrong.” I sighed. “This is coming out all wrong, Kaitlyn.”
“Is it? I don’t know, Dean. We barely know each other, so I have no idea.” She raked her hands through her hair, her eyes softening in the process. “What are we even doing? My sister is inside getting married, and I’m standing out here, talking to you. I’m supposed to be in there.”
“You tell me.” I shrugged. “You’re the one who sought me out, Kaitlyn, and after a while too.”
“Jesus, Dean. What do you want from me? An apology?”
“That would be nice for starters.”
“Excuse me?” she asked, disbelievingly as one eyebrow went up. “Why would I apologize to you?”
“You wanted me to leave. You didn’t tell me that you were pregnant right away,” I pointed out. “So, who owes who an apology here?”
“It’s not that simple,” she said, adamantly as she set her jaw stubbornly. “There are certain factors you know nothing about.”
“Like?” I prompted.
“Forget it, you wouldn’t understand.” She waved my comment away, dismissively, and I set my jaw tightly, annoyance coursing through me.
“You don’t get to do that, Kaitlyn. I’m part of your life now whether you like it or not, so you have to start telling me things.”
A Baby for the Vet (Boys of Rockford Series Book 4) Page 3