“Holy cow. Wow. Just wow.”
We went two more rounds before the sun lightened the sky, and we collapsed, worn out and totally spent. I didn’t think twice in one night was possible for a guy, let alone four.
My eyelids grew heavy until I couldn’t keep them open. The last conscious thought I had was how a girl could definitely get used to that kind of treatment. A final kiss whispered across my swollen, soft lips as I gave him a sleepy smile and snuggled deeper into his warm body.
Fuck, I hated to leave her, but I needed to track Mason down.
Even though I hadn’t slept more than a few minutes here and there, we needed to hit the road if we planned on making it back in time. Top would have our fucking asses if we were AWOL.
No way in hell was I getting my ass in a sling. I was praying he hadn’t disappeared with some chick without letting me know. If he had, I was gonna have to kick his ass. I’d sent him a text telling him he better meet me at his cousin’s place within the hour, if he wasn’t there already.
Asshole hadn’t answered.
Quiet as I could, I dressed and gathered my phone and keys. Casting a longing glance at the rumpled bed, I watched my beautiful angel as she slept. With her golden hair and sun-kissed skin against the pale blue sheets, she was every bit that—an angel.
Her hair was a crazy mess around her head and across the pillow, but she was a gorgeous sight. Dark lashes lay soft against her cheeks, and her perfect lips were slightly parted and still swollen from my kisses.
Torn, I wished I had time to wake her for one last round as my cock twitched in my pants. Instead, I readjusted it and leaned over to kiss her softly on the head. I didn’t want to wake her because I knew I’d worn the poor girl clean out.
Damn, I really didn’t want to go. I was standing there staring at her like some crazy-ass stalker when I needed to pop smoke.
Seeing a notebook and textbook on the bedside table, I did something I’d never done before. I wrote my phone number down for her and told her to keep in touch. Then followed it with maybe I’d swing by to see her after I got back.
Shit. That was dumb.
What if something crazy happened and I didn’t make it back? Besides, by the time I did get back, she’d probably have found someone better than me. Someone who could offer her a stable life, the white picket fence and all that sappy shit. Someone who deserved her.
Besides, I didn’t do relationships.
Not with my job.
It would be stupid.
I didn’t really know her anyway.
After thinking about it, I ripped the paper from the notebook as carefully as I could so I didn’t wake her. Quietly, I crumpled it and tossed it into the trash can by the door. Staring down at the wadded-up paper amid all the other rumpled bits of papers and trash, I wished I didn’t feel like it was my heart I’d ripped out and dropped in there.
What the fuck?
In one night, she’d crawled right up under my skin. I’d never even gotten her name, but I would never forget last night, or her.
Silently, I let myself out of her room—and ran smack into the redhead from last night coming out of the bathroom. She squealed in surprise. Great, so much for trying to keep the noise down.
“Who the hell are you? What the heck?”
“Shhhhh. She’s wracked out.” I paused. “Take care of her for me?” Without waiting for an answer, I gave a small, sad smile.
I walked out her front door, leaving her friend standing there slack-jawed.
And never looked back.
Mid-May 2013
WHEN I’D LEFT MY small town to go off to college, I’d had big plans. I was going to finish college with my culinary science degree and then become a kick-ass chef. One who eventually owned the number one dining establishment in the nation.
Sure, they were big dreams, but no one ever made it big by dreaming small. Funny how life comes along and makes its own plans for you. For me, it came at me like a sudden raging bull, taking me out at the knees.
It was the week of finals, then graduation, and my future would be laid out like a Caribbean sunset.
I’d studied like a crazed woman. I’d barely slept or eaten—unless you counted Starbucks—over the last few weeks. Looking back, I realized it wasn’t my best plan, and I’d made myself sick as all hell.
It was like I couldn’t catch a dang break! I had no clue how I was supposed to keep studying and remember all the crap I was burning into my eyes. Especially when I could barely get my ass out of bed before noon and was sure I was dying from the flu.
Instead, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. I spent time counting every little ugly, lumpy piece of that crappy popcorn texture, trying my best to keep my mind off the nausea roiling in my stomach.
I tried not to think of my beat-up wicker trash can next to the bed with the two used grocery bags lining it.
I tried not to think of how many steps it was across my threadbare carpet, through my door with the loose antique knob that sometimes got stuck, into the bathroom, and to the cracked porcelain god I’d been worshipping for the last three days.
For God’s sake, I hadn’t showered in four days. My hair was a greasy, ratted mess, my eyes were bleary and bloodshot, and no matter how many times I brushed my teeth and washed my face, I still tasted minty vomit and smelled…. Dear Lord, I couldn’t even begin to think about how I smelled. I could barely stand myself at that point.
Yeah, not helping the nausea.
Two hundred seventy-three, two hundred seventy-four….
Oh shit, not working!
I reached over for the trash can and barely kept my hair out of the way as I lost a whole lot of nothing from my stomach.
God, kill me now. Lightning. Flash flood. Whatever.
I couldn’t take much more.
I’d barely flopped my exhausted body back on my equally nasty, rumpled sheets when I heard the tentative knock. It was followed by the rattle of the old knob before I saw Becca’s worried face as she peeked around the edge of the door.
The stench of my deathbed must have hit her like an uppercut, because her worried expression quickly gave way to a look of disgust as her own face turned green and she covered her mouth and nose with one manicured hand. Okay, sometimes I was a little dramatic. Sue me. I truly thought I was dying.
“Girl, I was gonna offer to make you some toast, but you need a damn shower. Pronto. Ugh!” she complained and waved her hand in front of her face as she walked toward me. Asshole that she was, she grabbed my comforter, pulling it off me and taking my hand, tugging me to a sitting position.
Though I groaned and tried to fight her, I simply didn’t have the energy. “Leave me here to die.”
Becca softly brushed my hair away from my face. I noticed her discreetly slide the trash can as far away as she could with her foot. Her grimace said volumes as she looked me in the eye. “You’re not going to die.” She rolled her eyes. “Come on. Let me help you to the shower. I’ll clean up in here and get you some clean clothes,” she offered.
I moaned. “I don’t think I can make it.”
Becca half dragged, half supported me as I stumbled and shuffled to the bathroom. She sat me on the closed toilet, and I leaned back against the cool tank. Closing my eyes to stop the room from spinning, I waited as she turned on the water and waited for it to get hot.
“Come on, Queen Pukey. Let’s get those clothes off and get you in the shower.” She helped me climb in, waiting to be sure I wasn’t going to fall over. As I closed the shower curtain, I saw her plug her nose and toss my favorite red sweats and ratty Five Finger Death Punch shirt in my hamper.
“I’ll be back in a minute. Holler if you need me.” The door clicked shut as she left.
Like the walking dead, I stood in the shower letting the warm water wash across my face and body in hundreds of intertwining rivulets. I hated to admit it did make me feel a little better.
Except, as the water washed across my nipples, I saw his face
in my mind’s eye. Just like I had every day since the morning I’d woken up to an empty bed.
I pictured his slow, easy smile and the flash of his dimples, remembered how his lips brushed against mine. When I closed my eyes, I could feel his hands instead of the water caressing my body. I reached up and cupped my aching breasts. In my mind, they were his hands.
My biggest regret was not getting his number. Shit, I didn’t even know his last name.
I told myself some things weren’t meant to be. At least I had some amazing memories to hold close to my heart. Of course, those memories might give every man after him a lot to live up to.
It wasn’t until days later that I realized I didn’t even have the picture I’d taken because it was on his phone. And he was gone, taking the phone with him before I could forward it to myself.
If I would have thought to send it to myself right away, I would have at least had his phone number and a picture to ogle. Obviously, he didn’t want to keep in touch with me after he headed back to Georgia or he would have gotten my number from me. Or left his number with me.
I sighed to myself. Georgia was a long way away anyway, and who wanted to do a long-distance relationship? Hell, I was probably just another notch to him.
The water began to lose its heat, so I hurried to wash my hair and body before it became an icy stream. As soon as I shut the water off, I broke out in goose bumps as the cool air hit my skin. Teeth chattering, I rapidly toweled myself off and carefully climbed out of the shower, holding the wall to ensure I didn’t fall over.
Wiping the steam off the mirror, I stared at my reflection in the glass. There were dark circles under my eyes, and I looked sallow and washed out. At least I smelled better and was clean. That was a plus.
Feeling marginally better, I walked back to my room with my feet pattering on the old hard wood of the hallway. Becca was smoothing the comforter across my bed as I walked in, nearly stumbling over the pile of dirty sheets in the doorway.
“Why are you so good to me?” I shot her a small smile as she looked up at me from her task. She smiled back and walked over, giving me a hug. Smelling like sunshine, she made me miss sitting outside in the sun to study.
Shit, I needed to get better and back to studying again. Finals were too close.
“What are friends for? Besides, I love you, girl. I feel awful that you’ve been so under the weather lately.” Understatement of the century. “I’m going to go make you some toast. Do you want me to bring it in to you? Or do you want to come out to the table?”
“Give me a minute to get dressed and I’ll come out.”
She nodded and walked out to the kitchen.
Dressed in clean sweats and a tee, I shuffled out to the kitchen a couple minutes later. With a sigh, I sat at the scarred wooden table, which was a hand-me-down from her grandparents. She carried a plate of perfectly toasted thick-sliced bread over to me.
After she set it down in front of me, she went to grab me a can of ginger ale from the fridge. Then she sat at the extra chair, bringing one foot up to the edge of the chair, and rested her chin on her knee. Chewing on her bottom lip, she stared at me.
“So… you feeling better, hon?”
“A little, I guess. If I can get my ass up and moving, it usually helps me feel a little better, but it’s getting the energy to get up after being sick all morning that kicks my ass.” I’d no sooner taken a bite of the toast before I realized I was suddenly ravenous and made quick work of the other piece as well.
“Can I ask you a really personal question?” Becca’s eyes bored into me with bright intensity, making me curious about where this was going.
“Ummmm, sure?” I mean, we shared everything, so what could be more personal than everything?
“When was the last time you had your period, Steph?”
“Uhhhh, like a little over a month ago, or… so? I’m not really sure. But I’m not very regular, and with all the stress of finals and whatever this bug is I have, I know I’m probably thrown off even more.” I swallowed a mouthful of the cold, bubbly ginger ale.
“Do you think you could be pregnant?” She pursed her lips to the side and looked at me in question.
Ginger ale shot from my mouth and nose and the can slipped from my hand. It landed so hard on the table that some of the liquid splashed out. As I sat coughing and holding my hand over my mouth, I stared at the abstract blob of bubbling pop on the table.
My mind spun as I frantically tried to remember exactly when my last period was. The blood drained from my face and I became light-headed as I realized it may have been well over a month since my last cycle. Actually over two.
Sick with worry, I thought back to that glorious night with Colton. I realized not once did either of us even think to use a condom. Not that I’d had much use for them over the last several years, but crap.
What the hell had I been thinking? Not to mention he could have had an STD!
God, I was so stupid.
Having difficulty catching my breath, I looked at Becca with tears filling my eyes and cried, “What am I going to do?”
Becca reached across the table and grasped my hand in hers.
“First, we are going down to the dollar store to get a couple of tests. Maybe you’re right and you just have the flu and lots of stress. I just know it wasn’t too long ago that I ran into tall, dark, and sexy coming out of your room in the morning looking like… well, just yum. And now here you are sick as shit, and well, I guess I just thought….”
“Come on.” I stood and pulled her up, causing her chair to scrape across the floor and nearly fall over. Rushing around, I grabbed my purse and slid on some flip-flops. After throwing my hair in a messy bun, I rushed out the door with Becca hot on my heels.
We both stared at all the plus signs and double lines on the white sticks lined up on the counter in front of us. Neither of us said a word. We just stared. I wanted to cry, but I was too shocked to do anything but stare and breathe.
Finally, I looked over at Becca, and she looked at me. My stomach gave a little lurch, and I fought back a small wave of nausea.
“What are you going to do?” she whispered to me with a stricken expression.
“I don’t know. What am I going to tell my family? ‘So I’m graduating soon, I don’t have a job yet, and oh, did I mention I’m having a baby and I don’t exactly know who the father is? I mean, I know who he is, but I never really got his name.’ Yeah. I’m going to sound like a huge slut, and they’re going to hate me for being a big disappointment!” I buried my face in my hands as sobs racked my body. Tears quickly filled the palms of my hands.
My friend rubbed my back in soothing circles, but it wasn’t helping much. “Well, I’m here for you, for what it’s worth.”
“What was I thinking? I slept with a guy without any protection and didn’t even get his name or phone number! Jesus, Becca, I feel like such an idiot! Oh my God, my baby isn’t going to have a father, and there is a great guy out there who will never know he has a baby!” Though I liked to think I was a smart girl, my intelligence had obviously been on vacation that night.
Shit. Damn. Crap.
“Well, you could look into an abortion, Steph. You’re not that far along. I know it kind of sucks, but it’s an option.”
“No! Absolutely not!” I stood up, pacing in the small bathroom as Becca continued to sit on the edge of the tub. I was going to figure this out. Okay, so I may have been stupid that night, but the result was a tiny little life growing inside of me. He or she was an innocent byproduct of that stupidity, but that didn’t mean they were a mistake. Holding the palm of my hand to my still-flat belly as though it was a shield from the horrors of the world, I looked up at Becca with new determination.
“I’m going to figure this out. I have to. Either I wait to put in résumés until after the baby is born or I get them out ASAP and get a job before I start showing. Then I’m just ‘surprised’ when I find out I’m pregnant.” Before heading to my
room to try to figure out a feasible plan, I leaned down and hugged Becca.
First, I pulled out my laptop and began to update my résumé the best I could. I knew finding a job in a good restaurant coming right out of school was going to be difficult, which was why I had worked hard to keep my grades up to give myself a competitive edge; I knew if I could put on my résumé that I graduated top of my class, it would be a boost with potential employers. Then I looked online at the websites that posted for restaurant and food preparation positions.
I fired off a few applications to various restaurants across the state in hopes that one of them may look past my lack of experience and the fact that I hadn’t quite graduated yet. Hell, I would’ve been happy with anything at that point. After I finished, I closed my laptop and leaned against the headboard, pulling a small throw pillow over my stomach and clutching it tightly.
Chewing on my lip, I slipped a hand under it to my belly and whispered, “Mommy is going to take care of you, sweetheart, one way or another. Don’t worry, baby, we got this.”
It was said with much more confidence than I actually felt.
June 2013
GRADUATION CAME AND WENT. Thankfully, I passed all my classes with flying colors and managed to graduate at the top of my class. Go me. At least one thing went according to plan.
Becca and I had shared a tearful goodbye after we both finished packing up the apartment. It was the first of June. Time had gone by too fast.
We’d used the last few weeks to take our time packing and just hang out together. After all, the rent was paid through that week.
Unfortunately, I still hadn’t told my family, nor had I found a job, so I was heading home to stay with my parents. At least until I heard something about one of the five billion résumés I sent out.
“You better keep in touch! We’ll only be about three hours apart, so I expect we’ll be getting together as often as we can, even if we have to meet halfway in Storm Lake for a weekend here or there,” she said with a stern look.
Demented Sons Series Volume One: Books 1-4 (Demented Sons MC Iowa) Page 4