Baby Yours

by Kennedy Fox

  “From what I read, yes, but not always. After the second test came back the same, I lost faith and didn’t want to get my hopes up again.” He shrugs.

  Reaching for his hand, I take it and squeeze lightly. “Thanks for telling me,” I finally say.

  “I’ll tell you anything you want to know, Lennon. I’m pretty sure, at this point, you already know everything about me anyway.” He chuckles, and I like that it sounds genuine.

  “You know everything about me too. There aren’t any secrets that I haven’t told you,” I promise.

  Hunter nods, and his smirk deepens. “How ’bout we finish this episode, then call it a night?” He changes the subject, and I’m grateful when he presses play but don’t really pay attention to what’s happening. I’m watching it but not comprehending anything. Eventually, Hunter yawns, and it causes me to do the same. Before the next episode starts, he turns off the TV. Hunter stands, then looks over at me. I do the same.

  “I have to ask.” His expression softens. “Did any of it feel real to you in Utah, Lennon? Any of it at all?” He closes the gap between us, and the smell of him encapsulates me. I lose myself in the brown of his irises as he waits for my answer. Closing my eyes tight, I think back to the moment he kissed me as we danced on the Fourth of July. It sure as hell didn’t feel fake or wrong to me. Every touch, stolen glance, and sweet thing he said is at the forefront of my mind. When I look into his eyes, I know there’s no way I could lie.

  “Yes,” I desperately whisper. “It felt real for me, too. So real, I almost let myself believe it could be right.”

  Without saying a word, Hunter takes my cheeks in his palms, and a contemplative smile plays on his lips before he slants his mouth over mine. We’re greedy as our tongues twist together in a rhythmic movement. I fist his shirt, pulling him even closer to me, and moan against him. We should stop, but I can’t seem to pull away as our lips dance together. With every passing moment, we become more desperate and breathless until we’re losing ourselves. It’s easy to pretend we don’t have a past when his tongue tangles with mine.

  “Lennon,” Hunter moans my name, but it’s impossible for me to stop. My heart doesn’t want to, though my head says I should. When I’m with him like this, I lose control, and nothing else matters. There’s no stress or worry or care—just us.

  I finally force myself to break away, unsteady on my feet, and feel as if I’m floating when our foreheads touch.

  Then it all hits me like a brick wall.

  “I can’t,” I whisper against his lips, my breathing erratic. If I don’t stop now, this could lead somewhere it shouldn’t. Somewhere it can’t.

  Hunter releases a deep breath, holding me so tightly I don’t ever want him to let me go. But my head and heart battle, fighting against the guilt and need. I squeeze my eyes shut, holding in the tears that threaten to pour out. Our heavy breathing is all that can be heard in the entire apartment.

  “I’m so sorry,” I murmur, choking up.

  Hunter nods against me. “I know.” He cups my face before kissing my forehead, a farewell peace offering.

  Somehow, I find the strength to walk away from him without looking over my shoulder. I can’t bear to see the look on his face after that. The pain is too strong for even me to admit.

  I shut my bedroom door and lean against the cool wood as I try to catch the breath Hunter stole. My lips are swollen, and I run my fingertips across them, knowing we can never do that again. There are too many emotions behind it, considering Hunter’s confessions. Admitting to how he makes me feel isn’t something I can do, and I refuse to lead him on, knowing my heart is still cracked and barely glued back together. I’m a broken mess, and I’m not sure he can repair me, especially now. Maybe never.

  What’s happened between me and Hunter is so damn wrong, and I can’t stop thinking about Brandon. What the hell would he say about this? Would he be pissed? Or would he rather I have feelings for his best friend than someone else? I don’t know how I can ever move on without the shame following me.

  I think about what my life would be like if Brandon were here with me right now. If the accident hadn’t happened, we’d probably be a happy family. He would’ve loved meeting my parents, and I know my parents would’ve felt the same way about him. The remorse I’m harboring is almost too much, and I deserve it. Have I just plugged Hunter in where Brandon should be because I’m so lonely?

  I feel as if I’m living in a fucked-up fairy tale, and I’m not really sure if I’ll get a happy ending or even deserve to. The selfish part of me wants to ask him to sleep with me and hold me close to his strong body, but logic wins this time. It’s not a good idea, considering the way he feels—we feel.

  Chapter Eleven

  Hunter

  ONE MONTH LATER

  I gently push open Lennon’s door and see her swollen belly sticking out from her rolled up shirt as she shifts in her sleep. I ache to touch her, to feel her soft skin, and to show her my feelings are so damn real, it’s painful, but I won’t. As I’ve done for the past two years, I push them down and pretend they don’t exist, especially now that I’ve told her the truth and she walked away.

  With summer break officially over, today is the first day of school, and I know she’s nervous for her first day back to work. She didn’t tell her co-workers she was pregnant, but at five months along, she won’t be able to hide it anymore.

  Ever since I confessed my true feelings to her a month ago, things have slowly gone back to our normal. We thought it was best not to sleep in the same bed, and honestly, I’m not sure I could handle it now that she knows how I’ve always felt. Kissing her—for real—was the most intense thing I’ve ever experienced, and then it was ripped away just like that. I knew the second she pulled away she was going to say those words. I can’t.

  I’d been fooling myself to think she’d be able to see me as anything more than a friend. Even if she claims she felt the chemistry that first night we met, too much has happened, and it doesn’t matter now. She’s carrying Brandon’s baby, and now that she knows I can’t have kids, why the hell would she even consider being with someone who can’t give her the family she wants? My dad’s words of being a failure repeat in my head, and it brings me right back to the dark place I’ve tried so hard to stay away from.

  Guilt. Anger. Insecurity.

  Lennon’s truly the only reason I’ve been sane these past four months since Brandon’s death. Even if I wish things had happened differently between us, I can’t let her go. I’ll take her in my life in any way she’ll allow.

  “Lennon,” I whisper, brushing her hair off her face.

  “Mmm?” she mutters, stirring lightly.

  “I made you breakfast,” I tell her softly.

  “Sleep,” she mumbles, pulling the covers to her chest. “More sleep.”

  Chuckling, I look at her sleepy face and smile. “Not today, sweetheart. Back to work,” I remind her.

  Her eyes pop open, scaring the shit out of me. Lennon looks around, and it’s as if she’s just now remembering it’s the day.

  “I forgot what getting up early felt like.” She groans, finally sitting up. “Though I have a feeling I’m about to be reminded very soon,” she says, looking at her stomach, then pulling her shirt down. “No way to hide it.”

  Furrowing my brows, I hold out my hand and help her to her feet. “Shouldn’t hide it anyway. You’re not the first teacher to get pregnant,” I reassure her.

  “It’s not that.” She shrugs. “It’s the pity looks that are gonna return.”

  Grabbing her hands, I envelop them between my palms and hold them against my chest. Lennon looks up at me, waiting.

  “Ignore the comments and the looks and just remember how far you’ve come. Brandon is so proud of you,” I tell her sincerely. “So am I.”

  A tear slips down her cheek, but she doesn’t move to catch it. It falls to her mouth, and she licks it from her lips. I study her, watching her, wanting her to know how amazing s
he is.

  How special she is to me.

  “Thanks, Hunter. I appreciate that.” I release her hands, and she snakes her arms around my waist. “You always know what to say to make me feel better.”

  I wrap an arm around her, then kiss her forehead. “Haven’t you figured out by now that I’m a very philosophical person?” I tease with a smile.

  Lennon laughs and leans back, putting space between us. “You’re something else, Manning. That I know for a fact.”

  Before I can ask her what that means, she grabs her phone and walks toward the kitchen. “Is that bacon I smell?”

  “Sure is,” I confirm, and my smirk deepens when her face lights up.

  We each make a plate of eggs, toast, and, of course, bacon. My favorite morning routine includes us having breakfast together, so now that she’s back to work for the school year, I’m glad we’ll get to do it again.

  Just as I’m about to get up and rinse my plate, Lennon stands and comes toward me. “I need to post on Instagram today for the first day back!”

  She sits on my lap and wraps an arm around my shoulders, bringing our faces together. “We need to look sad.”

  I snort, furrowing my brows. “What? Why?”

  Her shoulders slouch. “Because I’m going back to work, and we won’t get to spend as much time together.”

  Fuck, that is sad and sucks if she’s being real.

  Lennon holds out her phone, clicks on the camera, and gives me a two-second warning. She pouts with her lower lip sticking out, and I do the same before she takes the shot.

  “Okay, one more,” she says after checking the photo.

  We get back into position, and right before she clicks, she presses her soft lips to my cheek, surprising the shit out of me. Then just as quickly as it happened, it’s over.

  “Super cute.” She looks at the photo, then shuffles off me.

  And now I need to sit here for just a second.

  I don’t know how long she plans to update her Instagram or pretend we’re married, but I continue to go along with it for her sake even though she knows my true feelings. At this point, I’m a pro at pushing them to the side to protect my own heart.

  “First day back to work and going to miss my honey pie,” she speaks as she types, then looks up at me and winks at the nickname she always hated. “Hashtag newlyweds, hashtag wifey, hashtag bae.”

  I raise my brows at her ludicrous hashtags. Even though it’s all an act and she’s doing it for her parents’ benefit, she’s been posting pregnancy shots and anything baby and married life related. All of the clothes her mother bought, our rings, dinners she’s cooked, basically anything and everything. Part of me wonders if it’s overkill with all the posting because she really wishes those things were for real—but with Brandon.

  “Adorable, right?” She sticks her phone in my face and swipes her finger to show me she posted both pictures.

  Fuck me. Doesn’t she know this is torture?

  For the past month, we’ve acted as if that night never happened, so I plaster on a smile, and reply, “Definitely.”

  I clean up the kitchen while she hops in the shower. Once the dishes are cleared, and I wipe the counters, I walk down the hallway and hear Lennon singing. Pausing, I stand outside the door and listen.

  It’s a new one today. Straining to hear the lyrics, I eventually recognize the song. Lennon flawlessly belts out the words to “I Hope You Dance.” As always, her voice captivates me in every way. She sounds so passionate and sweet, and I’ve come to love getting this front row seat every morning.

  As Lennon sings about giving faith a fighting chance, I lean my forehead against the wood door and inhale a deep breath. I wish I could say how I want to fight for her, how I wish she’d fight for me, how it should’ve always been her and me—even though it feels wrong. I push all those feelings aside and ignore them, not allowing them to bring me to the dark side.

  Willing myself to walk away, I go to my room and dress for work, hoping to get to the office early. I have plans to meet Mason and Liam during my lunch break and have a feeling it’s going to take the full hour. It’s been a while since we’ve hung out, and I haven’t told them the whole story on going to Utah with Lennon. I could only imagine what they’d say about it, and I didn’t need their bullshit attitudes while preparing for the trip, so I know it’s only a matter of time before it comes up in conversation.

  “Hunter?” Lennon knocks on my door.

  “Yeah?”

  I’m buttoning up my shirt when she enters. The sight of her nearly takes my breath away. She’s wearing a black pencil skirt, stockings, and a maternity tank. She bought it last week when I finally forced her to admit she needed new clothes, especially for work. Luckily, Sophie and Maddie dragged her to the mall, and then she reluctantly showed me everything once they got back. It was adorable the way she pouted about it, but honestly, she looks amazing. Maybe it makes me a sick son of a bitch, but she’s only gotten more gorgeous with her pregnancy.

  Yeah, I’m going to hell.

  Pregnant with my dead best friend’s baby.

  Straight to hell.

  “Which top?” Lennon asks, breaking me out of my trance. She holds up two shirts on hangers and puts each one over her body. “They both suck, so which one sucks less?”

  Chuckling, I examine the almost identical patterned blouses and point at the one on the right.

  “Really?” She narrows her eyes at it and frowns.

  “No?” I stare pointedly at her and the way she’s looking at it. “I meant your right.”

  Lennon drops her shoulders and scowls at me. “Liar.”

  “Stop worrying so much,” I tell her, closing the gap between us, then grabbing the shirt in question. “It’s pretty. Let me see it on.”

  Sighing, she takes it, then slips it over her head. Her breasts rise, and I quickly avert my gaze until she’s dressed.

  “Well?” She raises her arms, then lets them fall to her sides with a slap. “I look fat.”

  “No,” I say slowly, knowing I need to tread lightly. She’s sensitive to her body’s changes, and while I’d love to be able to tell her she’s so fucking beautiful, I know I have to restrain myself. “You look pregnant.”

  Lennon rolls her eyes at me, then marches to her room, and I follow. She stands in front of the full-length mirror, turning from side to side. Her bump is only visible in that shirt when she rests a hand over it.

  “I may be biased, but I think you look cute,” I tell her honestly, my voice hoarse at the truth of my words. “I can’t even tell you’re pregnant from the back.”

  “Oh great. I’ll just walk backward from now on.”

  Her serious expression has me laughing. Walking up behind her, I rest my hands on her shoulders and squeeze. “Lennon. Relax. Maybe you aren’t giving your co-workers enough credit. I bet once they find out, they’ll want to be there for you and support you in any way they can.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” She shrugs, making my hands move up, and I quickly drop them. The longer I touch her, the harder it is to walk away.

  “Lennon.” I look at her through the mirror, and she meets my eyes. “What’s this really about?”

  She drops her gaze and swallows hard. “I’m not sure. I should be glad for the change of pace and going back to my students. I know it’ll keep my mind busy, but it brings me right back to the week Brandon died and how everyone looked at me. Hell, how they treated me.”

  “How?”

  Lennon turns around and faces me. “Like I was damaged goods.”

  Before I can think better of it, I pull her into my arms and hug her. She wraps hers around me, and we stay like that for longer than we should. Her heart is racing, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she can feel mine thumping hard. Anytime she’s close, it goes out of control.

  “You’re not, Lennon. What happened to you is tragic, and oftentimes people don’t know how to react to that kind of news. It makes them feel uncomfortable, so it comes
out in weird ways.”

  I pull back slightly when I hear her sniffle. “You want me to be your fake husband at school too?” I ask, then wait and see if she’ll crack a smile at my pathetic attempt to make a joke out of this situation.

  “Hmm...maybe, but it’d also come with even more questions.” She chuckles, which puts a wide grin on my face.

  “Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.” I flash her a wink, and I swear her cheeks redden.

  “I know. Always ready to save the day, Hunter.”

  “Fake husband to the rescue,” I say, pretending a dagger isn’t shooting straight into my heart.

  She smiles sweetly at me, and I take the awkward silence as an opportunity to leave. “Well, I’m gonna finish getting ready and head to work. Hope you have a great first day.” I kiss her forehead, then slowly release my arm from her waist. “Text me if you need me, okay?”

  “You know I will.”

  Fifteen minutes later, I’m on the road and almost to the office. Now that it’s getting closer to fall, projects are wrapping up, and new contracts are being signed. I’m up to my elbows in paperwork, so I spend the entire morning at my desk until it’s time to meet with the guys.

  Mason and Liam are both in a booth with drinks by the time I arrive at Rob’s Burgers.

  “Couldn’t wait for me, huh?” I sit next to Mason and grab the menu.

  “We were thirsty,” Liam taunts, holding up his beer, then taking a swig. “Your bitch ass was late anyway.”

  I look at my watch. “Three minutes, asshole.”

  “You’re lucky I was able to hold him back from ordering,” Mason says.

  “Hey, I’m starving, okay? I have a busy week with work, so today is my only downtime,” Liam explains.

  “I kinda lost my appetite after the shitstorm I’ve been dealing with today, but I have to eat,” Mason tells us. He’s interning to be a forensic investigator and works part-time for his dad, who’s the district attorney. I can only imagine the shit he’s seen and heard working so closely to crime scenes. In fact, he’s told us about a few cases, but I’ve purposely blocked them from my memory. I don’t know how he does it, but shortly after he graduated from college, he took up boxing. Now he continues to do it because he needs an outlet from the shit he has to see and deal with on a regular basis. You wouldn’t know it by looking at him, but he’s strong as fuck, and even I wouldn’t want to get in a ring with him.