by Tia Siren
I didn't know what to say in response to that. Part of me argued that wasn't a very good work ethic. Part of me wanted to say something about how he'd better raise our son or daughter to be better than that.
But I knew that wasn't what I wanted to say exactly. The only reason I thought that was because I didn't know how else to react. I didn't know how to get him out of my bed if he wasn't going to hurry off to work. We lingered there for a long moment, just staring at one another.
Michael nuzzled my neck for a moment. “Why don't I make us some coffee?” he suggested.
I thought again about how Erica could probably hear us. But then again, if I couldn't hear her breathing or moving around over on her side of the room, I had to conclude that she wasn't there. “All right,” I finally agreed.
Michael gave me one last, chaste kiss and then slid out of bed, pulling on his boxer briefs and then padding out into the kitchen. I heard the coffee grinder start and thought about getting out of bed as well, but I was comfortable there. Besides, it was either chat here in my bed or out on the sofa. Either way, the talk was going to be uncomfortable.
I grabbed a t-shirt off the floor and pulled it on over my head, figuring that I could at least be less naked for the conversation that was coming.
Eventually, Michael returned, bearing two mugs of coffee. I reached for one and then froze as the scent of strong coffee reached my nose. I all but bolted for the bathroom, barely making it before the bile rose in my throat. I heaved over the toilet for a few moments, glad that I had pulled my hair back into a ponytail after pulling on the t-shirt.
Finally, I managed to take a couple calming breaths and went back into the main room. Michael was sitting on the couch, and the coffee mugs were nowhere to be seen. “Are you all right?” he asked, standing immediately.
“Morning sickness,” I sighed. “It's probably for the best: aren't I not supposed to be drinking coffee during pregnancy anyway?”
Michael frowned and came over to me, gently brushing back some of my hair, where it had escaped its ponytail. “Can I get you anything?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No, thanks,” I told him. “I'm okay.” I wasn't really, but I knew from the past few days that there was nothing to do but wait it out. I couldn't deny how pleasantly warm I felt at his concern. I knew there was still more for us to talk about after the previous night, but I couldn't help thinking again about what a good man he was.
“I've got to get to work,” Michael sighed, but he continued to linger there in the apartment.
“Go ahead,” I told him. “I'm probably just going to put on a movie and watch that until I have to go to The Shift tonight.” Surprisingly enough, I felt like I would, in fact, be able to work tonight. The previous night must have helped me more than I had realized.
Michael lightly stroked my cheek and then bent in to kiss me. It was soft and sweet, and even though it showed just as much passion as the previous night's kisses, there was a surprising amount of tenderness to it as well.
“I love you,” he said quietly. “I'll talk to you soon.”
I stood there, rooted to the floor, as he took a step back, preparing to leave the apartment.
Did he just say I love you?
I could barely echo his words, even in my thoughts. Unbidden, my fingers crept up to trace over my lips, tracing the parts that had been touched by his kiss. It sent a zing through me, but it wasn't only lust this time. Instead, it was something deeper, something I didn't wholly understand.
I couldn't say anything back to him as I trailed after him to the door, still trying to figure out what to say. The problem was, I didn't know what I felt, and his bold statement of his own feelings just left me feeling more adrift.
Of course, he probably didn't mean it that way. He wasn't trying to be romantic, saying that he loved me. He was just… He was just what? I didn't have an answer. I felt lost, adrift, uncertain. I thought again about how he had asked me to move in with him. He had told me he didn't want a normal relationship, that he didn't mean for us to be something more. He just wanted to get me out of this place I shared with Erica, that was all. He wanted to make sure I was being taken care of.
But I couldn't help but believe him when he said he loved me.
I swallowed hard, and even though I still hadn't managed to say anything in response to Michael, even though he had turned, after exiting the apartment, to look searchingly at me, all I could do was shut the door in his face. I leaned against that door, trying to sort through my feelings, but they seemed to be sifting through my fingers.
I had to talk to Erica, I realized.
With single-minded focus, I headed to The Shift, intent on talking to my best friend. If anyone was going to make sense of this, it was her. She was the romantic, after all. She was the one who knew me best.
“Michael stayed over last night, in case you didn't know,” I blurted as soon as I saw her.
Erica froze and then frowned at me. “I've been staying with my new boyfriend,” she admitted. “I thought you had realized that.”
I hadn't realized that, and suddenly, I felt like a horrible friend. I hadn't even known that she had a new boyfriend. “Sorry,” I sighed. “I've been so wrapped up in what's going on in my life lately that I haven't even stopped to think about what's been happening in yours.”
“That's okay,” Erica said. “I didn't mean it that way. What's up?”
I paused, but the words came rushing out before I could stop them. “He told me he loves me,” I admitted. “And he asked me to move in with him. He doesn't want this to be a normal relationship; both of us know that wouldn't work out. But he has a spare room, and he really wants me to have my own space. He wants his maid to take care of me, too.”
I shook my head. “I know that it all comes back to the baby. He said he loves me because he loves the baby. He wants to take care of me because he wants to take care of the baby. But still. This isn't what I thought I was signing up for.”
Erica frowned at me, and I could practically see the gears turning in her head. “Are you sure that's all it is?” she finally asked quietly.
I had to consider, for a moment, that wasn't all it was. What if Michael did love me? What if he was concerned about me, but for more than just his concern for his baby growing inside of me?
“Do you love him?” Erica asked softly before I could deny anything.
“Of course not!” I said automatically. But deep down, I knew that I did. How could I not, after all?
I swallowed hard, wishing that I could tell her the truth. Wishing that I could ask her what to do. But it was up to me, wasn't it? I sighed and rubbed at my temples, and Erica gave me a knowing look. Fortunately, all she said was, “I want you to take it easy tonight, okay?”
All I could do was nod in response.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Michael
I couldn't believe I had told Paige that I loved her. I had been so careful, the previous night, to disguise my feelings. To tell her that I wanted her to move in with me but that it was just a matter of getting her out of her place with Erica. To tell her we didn't have to have a normal relationship. To make it seem like it was all about sex and taking care of her.
And then, I had to go and tell her I loved her. The thing was, it wasn't untrue. I did love her. I had known for a while that I had feelings for her. But those feelings had gone beyond lust. I loved her. And I didn't mind admitting that, I realized.
But Paige clearly hadn't wanted to hear it.
I frowned, thinking back to her reaction. She had looked practically shell-shocked, and although surprise had been expected, I hadn't expected her to simply shut the door in my face. She had barely even managed to say goodbye. She hadn't said she was looking forward to seeing me again. She hadn't said anything.
She hadn't said that she loved me too. Not that I had expected that.
I sighed and rubbed at my temples, feeling a headache coming on. I didn't know what to think, and I didn't
know what to do next. Should I show up at her apartment again? But I didn't know how to face her, on her own ground. In the same place I had told her I loved her. It set up too many expectations, carried too much weight.
Instead, I headed to The Shift. If nothing else, maybe I could talk to Erica. Tell her what had happened and ask her for advice. I felt silly doing that, but then again, Erica was Paige's best friend. If anyone might know what to do, it was her.
At the bar, though, Erica was nowhere to be seen. Paige was there, though. There, and flatly ignoring me. She avoided serving me, even when I sat down on her end of the bar. Instead, she served everyone around me and then got one of her coworkers to help me. I frowned, wondering what I was supposed to do.
In the end, I waited until she went on break, and then as she slipped away from behind the bar and headed for the back storeroom, I caught her wrist and pulled her into a shadowed alcove, where it would be just the two of us, and we would have some semblance of privacy.
I remembered what had happened the last time I was at The Shift, and I felt shame flush through me again. I knew that guy had deserved all the punches that I had been able to throw, but at the same time, I couldn't help thinking about Paige's fury, how she'd rebuked me for causing a scene at her work. I didn't want to make the same mistake again.
“Paige, I don't understand what's going on,” I said, not even able to bother with pleasantries. It was as though now that I'd acknowledged my feelings for her, they were all spilling over, unable to be contained. The worry, the love, the confusion, all of it was right there in the forefront of my mind, unable to be forgotten or pushed aside.
Paige raised an eyebrow at me. “What do you mean, you don't understand what's going on?” she asked. “I'm at work, and I'm treating you like I would any other customer.”
“Except you're not,” I said impatiently, about to point out the way that she had been avoiding even looking at me. But then I realized how futile that was. She undoubtedly knew exactly what she was doing, and my reminding her of it wasn't going to help anything.
I frowned. “I want to know how you feel about me,” I finally told her softly. “It's driving me nuts, guessing. One moment, it seems almost as though you have feelings for me. Like you're afraid to go through with this because you're scared of getting hurt. Like you don't want to be friends because you don't want to be just friends with me. But then you start avoiding me, and it's like you really don't have feelings for me. Like you'd be perfectly happy to have nothing to do with me ever again.”
“That's impossible,” Paige snapped. “I'm pregnant, remember, and there's that stupid contract.”
“That stupid contract,” I agreed, sighing. “I wish I'd never come up with this plan to start with. Only remember, it was you who came up with it.”
“I didn't mean for this to happen,” Paige said, but for the first time, she didn't seem impatient. Didn't seem angry. If anything, she seemed at a loss, as though she didn't know what to do.
I wanted to pull her into my arms and tell her that I was sorry. To take her home and slowly make love to her and make sure she knew that I was telling the truth, that I wasn't lying, that I really did want her, and so badly.
But she still hadn't admitted how she was feeling.
She bit her lower lip, staring at the floor. “I don't know how I feel,” she finally told me.
“Bullshit,” I said before I could stop myself. But when I thought about it, that was exactly what I wanted to say. “You know exactly how you feel for me,” I maintained, thinking of all the avoidance that she'd been doing over the past weeks. If I thought of it as her having feelings for me and being uncertain as to how to deal with them, it suddenly all made sense. I had a feeling she knew exactly how she felt about me.
She just didn't want to say it.
I felt a flash of anger at that. Here I was, having gone out on a limb and declared that I loved her. And she apparently couldn't do the same for me.
But that wasn't fair, I knew. I couldn't be angry at her for being scared or confused. Especially not with hormones raging through her. Especially not when morning sickness had been making her feel so disgusting. Especially not when she must be feeling so confused.
Even if she was the one who had come up with the idea in the first place, I was the one who had made up the contract and asked her to sign. I might have told her the other day that I loved her, but she had probably been dealing with confusing feelings for just as long as I had been, and I didn't doubt she was feeling confused.
Still.
“I think you know exactly how you feel,” I told her quietly, earnestly. “I need you to tell me, though, so I knew where we go from here.”
Paige stared up at me, her lips slightly parted, and I wanted nothing more than to kiss her. I held back, though, knowing better than to pressure her. I had a feeling that if I did, in fact, pressure her, the only thing it would do was make her pull away from me even more.
“I'll give you 24 hours,” I told her, even though I wasn't sure that was the best way to go about it. Still, I couldn't hang in limbo forever, and I knew, with the way she'd been avoiding me, that she wasn't exactly forthcoming with her feelings. 24 hours, this ultimatum, might be just what she needed to realize what she really felt about me.
“What happens if I don't tell you I love you in 24 hours?” she asked, her voice sneering, even though I could see only desperation in her eyes.
I shrugged. “I stop trying,” I told her. “I can only try so hard. If you don't tell me how you feel? I have to walk away.”
I hated saying the words, and to be honest, they surprised me as much as they surprised her. But every word was true. I loved her, but if she didn't love me, I needed to move on.
“What about the baby?” she asked, looking scared. “If I don't tell you I love you and you walk away, what happens to the baby?”
I stared at her for a moment, trying to appear impassive even though really, I felt as though my heart was breaking. If she was even considering the alternative, I had to recognize that she probably wasn't going to just admit that she loved me. And she wasn't going to move in with me, even if it meant that she was living in my spare bedroom. Even if it meant that she got out of her cramped studio apartment.
I looked away from her, hoping that she couldn't see the pain in my face. “We have a contract,” I reminded her, even though I wasn't sure I would be able to enforce that contract, not with everything that had happened between us.
If she wanted to keep the baby, I couldn't fight her on it. Not having met her parents and seen how her family interacted together. Not having heard how scared she was of losing the child. Not when I loved her more deeply than I'd ever loved anyone before.
When it came down to it, if she couldn't say that she loved me, I would truly have to walk away from it all. Her, the baby, the contract, all of it. I would go back to being alone.
Paige stared up at me for a moment and then nodded weakly, folding her arms around herself. “Okay,” she said softly, and for a moment, I didn't remember specifically what she was responding to. Suddenly, I had the horrible thought she might claim she loved me just because she thought it was the only way that she could keep her baby.
But before I could clarify, she had disappeared into the back room, and I knew better than to follow her there.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Paige
On Thursday, Erica and I were setting up the bar and getting ready to open. I had been feeling so down. I couldn’t wrap my head around my thoughts and feelings toward Michael. Let alone get a grip on my emotions. The hormones were making them bounce all over the place. One minute I was happy and excited, laughing about something, and the next second I’m crying over something stupid.
I was standing behind the bar, cleaning the glasses and getting them set up for the customers that would be piling inside the bar in just under an hour. Erica was putting out all the chairs that had been stacked the previous night so the floors co
uld get mopped.
I had only been there twenty minutes, and I felt exhausted.
Erica finished with putting the chairs out and walked behind the bar. She looked at me and turned around, openingthe mini fridge under the counter we had for our personal drinks.
“Talk to me,” she said, handing me a bottle of seltzer water. My newest favorite obsession since finding out I was pregnant. I didn’t drink enough water before my pregnancy. I needed water with a pizazz to make sure I drank enough now.
I sighed and took a sip. But I had barely swallowed it before I started crying. The tears were streaming out of my eyes before I could even try to stop them.
“Oh sweetie,” Erica said, pulling me into her arms. “Talk to me,” she repeated, her voice even softer.
“I think I'm in love with Michael,” I admitted, clinging to her. “But I've never felt this way before.”
It was weird how saying this aloud, to someone, made it feel so much more real.
“That's not a bad thing though, is it?” Erica asked. She shook her head. “I've never seen you like this before, so upset. Especially not over a guy. You must really like him.”
“I do,” I admitted. “But I'm scared.”
“What are you scared of?” Erica asked. “That he doesn't like you back? Because honey, if that's what you're afraid of, you're an idiot. Sorry to tell you that, but it's true. I've never seen a guy as head-over-heels as Michael is for you.”
“He told me he loved me,” I reminded her.
“Just checking to make sure that you remembered and that it wasn't just some weird dream,” Erica said, winking at me. “So, tell me, what are you afraid of?”
“I don't know,” I admitted. “He told me I had to tell him by tonight if I had feelings for him as well, or else he was going to walk away.”
Erica was silent for a long moment. “I think he's bluffing,” she finally said. “I don't think he would really have it in him to walk away. He can't keep his hands off you, remember? And even on the nights you guys don't have anything planned, he's here, at The Shift, waiting to take you home.”