by Kat Addams
Unf. I know. I know. Sorry. Didn’t mean to get us both worked up.
I shook the thought of Aiden being with someone else out of my head and blamed pregnancy brain for my jealousy. He’d told me he had feelings the morning he stayed over, so I thought I was safe in him not cheating. But it wouldn’t exactly be cheating if we were just friends.
My nostrils flared as I picked up my phone, ready to dial his number and get to the bottom of his distant behavior this week. But instead, I shoved a Pop-Tart in my mouth and cracked open my interior design book. I had thirty minutes to study before I had to head into work and then into school and then come home and clean for the party. I pushed the drama out of my brain and focused on the tasks before me.
When I’d told my friends that I needed to clean my house for them, they’d all scolded me at once. Nikki had told me not to worry about a thing and that the whole gang would take care of the sleepover. Rox had booked me a prenatal spa day while DTF worked on cleaning inside my house as an early baby shower gift. I couldn’t argue with that logic.
After spending half the day being pampered, I floated back to my van, renewed. I’d had my nails done, my toes done, and a full-body massage that worked out every kink I’d had, except for that super-dirty one tucked in the back of my brain. Lately, my lower back ached so much that I could barely stand for long. I had needed a good rubdown, and it hadn’t been hard to talk me into a massage.
I’d had an ex once who worked as a massage therapist. That was how he’d wooed me into a relationship. He’d put his hands on me and strum me like a guitar. I’d leave his place as limp as a dishrag from his touch every time. Unfortunately, that man worked his hands better than his dick.
The sex was terrible. He pushed inside me like a broken jackhammer and did this little thing with his eyebrows that made it hard for me to take our sexual escapades seriously. I’d always pictured his scraggly brows as two derpy caterpillars dancing on his face. One would rise, and the other would stick out sideways. They’d keep switching moves and taking turns in showing off. I would have closed my eyes, but those brows were more entertaining than whatever his hips were doing to me. At least I had the massages to fall back on. That had lasted only about six weeks.
I stretched, yawning before starting my engine. Although I felt ten times better than I had when I went into the spa, Aiden’s distance still crossed my mind. I hadn’t even heard from him in a few days, and that was unlike him. I didn’t think sex between us had made things awkward. It wasn’t like we hadn’t done stuff like that before. But something I had done must have sent him running. Maybe it was the breakfast and playing wife. Maybe he thought that was a bit too much like relationship territory. Maybe he thought I looked like a whale, or maybe something in my house had spooked him—like Mars. That cat did have a way of showing up out of nowhere to scare the bejesus out of me. Sometimes, I would be in the middle of something, and Mars would jump on my back, my shoulder, or even my head.
I drove home with an entire list of possibilities for his actions, or lack thereof, running through my pregnant brain. I flushed hot one minute, and the next, I broke down into tears. I needed to admit to myself that I had feelings for Aiden. There was no sense in hiding it anymore—from myself at least. That first time we’d met, in Scarlett Herb’s kitchen, I had known I would fall for him if I let myself. So, I never let myself. But now, I was carrying his baby, and all logic and rationale went out the window.
As I turned the corner onto my street, I noticed the pink balloons swaying above my mailbox, and a line of cars was parked outside of my home along with The Pink Taco Truck. There was no use in wiping the tears from my eyes before I went inside. I was already tearing up again at the sight of what my friends had put together for me. Even if my friendship with Aiden—or whatever we had—didn’t work out, I still had my girl gang. They were my rock.
I pulled myself together, took a deep breath, and opened the front door. Pink crepe streamers and glittery silver ribbon hung from the doorway. Bows and pacifiers and tulle decorated my kitchen counters. I even spotted confetti sprinkled around a two-tiered pink cake with a baby bum on top. I clasped my hands under my chin and squealed. This baby shower had come straight out of my baby book, and I knew just whose idea it had been.
I’d shown Betty my baby book one hot summer’s day after we day-drank in my pool. That was the day she’d convinced me to go back to art school. She’d said we could have it all but not without a village. Today, she’d brought that village to me.
“You.” I laughed, elbowing my way through the guests and throwing my arms around Betty.
“Me what?” She smirked.
“You did all this, didn’t you? The pink balloons, the confetti, the diaper cake.” I bounced on my heels. “You’re the only one I showed my scrapbook to that day last summer when you talked my drunken ass into going back to art school.”
“Oh no, honey. Do you think I know the first thing about a diaper cake? But, yeah, if you mean this entire party, mmhmm. I did with Rox’s and Nikki’s help. I know how important this stuff is to you. Hell, you’ve been planning it out since you were a kid. We’re here for you, Layla. And your baby girl. Now, let’s eat, so we can get this show on the road. I’ve been fighting off your aunt, your cousins, and some weird woman named Sherry from the damn food table for the last hour. Let’s go.” Betty grabbed my hand and pulled me behind her toward the pile of tacos on the table.
I spent the next two hours knee deep in pastel tissue paper I’d been pulling from the ever-growing pile of presents at my feet. I received things I hadn’t even known I needed—like a booger sucker. I gagged when I read the description. Surely, I didn’t need to suck a dangler from my kid’s nose. I passed the box to Nikki, who winced in repulsion. By the time I got to the last gift, I was exhausted and ready for a nap. Rox must have sensed it because she sped my little party up by cleaning, which sent a trigger reaction to everyone else. My mom began to put the food away, my aunts took care of the trash, and DTF took down the streamers.
“No. Leave those up. And the balloons!” I stretched my arms over my head and yawned.
“What for? You aren’t going to climb up here to take them down later!” Nikki quit tugging the streamer and hopped off the chair.
“I don’t want to let it go just yet. I’ve been waiting my entire life for this. I just want to spend a little more time with it.” I rubbed my belly, pouting.
“Whatever you say, Mama!” Rox patted my shoulder and rushed off, whispering to Nikki.
I shut my eyes for a brief moment, smiling. What I wanted to do was share this moment with Aiden. I needed the streamers and the balloons to show him what he had been missing when I finally admitted my true feelings. I would discuss my plan with DTF later tonight and go from there. It sounded like a good idea to me, but then again, nothing I did led me down the paths I planned. I ran different scenarios through myself before dozing off.
“If you sleep with your neck like that much longer, you’re going to wake up hurting. I didn’t pay an arm and a leg for you to get that massage, only to have you go back tomorrow. You have been conked out for two hours. Get up.” Betty nudged my shoulder.
I swatted her hand away.
“We have jelly doughnuts!” Rox sang, rubbing my knee.
“What was that?” I opened my eyes to DTF gathered around me. “Did everyone go? And why are you bringing out doughnuts now?”
“It was a ploy. And it worked. We don’t have any,” Nikki said. Her long blonde hair was toppled over in a messy bun.
Everyone had changed into pajamas, except me. I was still wearing my pregnancy muumuu.
“That’s a mean thing to do to a pregnant lady!” I folded my arms across my chest and rested them on my bulging baby bump.
“We have something else to show you. Or rather, not us, but Aiden.” Nikki hoisted me up onto my feet.
“What? Is he here? What’s going on?” I rubbed my eyes, unsure if I was dreaming or not.
Baby girl turned flips in my stomach—or it was my stomach-turning flips? Either way, my heartbeat raced inside my chest. I wasn’t prepared to see Aiden. Just a moment ago, I’d planned my speech to him, and now, he was here. I hadn’t consulted with my friends about my plan yet.
“Surprise!” DTF yelled before opening the door to my guest room, which, unfortunately, was more of a storage room.
I’d stored art supplies for my future business in there since I signed on this house from my grandma years ago. She moved into a retirement home, and I moved into the old family home. I’d just never had the time to do anything with this room or the storage to put my supplies elsewhere.
“What the—” I gasped, staring at Jay and Aiden as they threw their arms in a jazz-hands motion, fingertips wiggling toward a crib I recognized as similar to the one I had cut out and pasted in my baby book.
“I hope you like it. We didn’t have time to paint the walls, but we thought we’d let the artist take care of picking that color anyway.” Aiden stepped toward me. “I hope you don’t mind us using this room. It was rude of me not to ask, but—”
“It’s perfect,” I whispered, stepping into him and throwing my arms around his waist. I rested my head on his chest and listened to his heart rate climb, drowning out the murmurs around me.
I’d planned on using this room as a nursery anyway, but the way my plans were working out, I hadn’t dared start on that project. With my luck, I’d begin decorating the nursery, and my house would burn down. That would be a curveball fit for me.
“We’ll give you two some time,” Rox said, shooing everyone out of the door and shutting it behind her.
I opened my mouth to thank them but let out a wail instead.
“Shh. Shh. Shh. You gorgeous thing. Even when you’re all pouty, you still look like a queen. And this”—he motioned around the room—“is for your princess. Dry those tears, baby. It’s only going to go up from here.”
I nodded, wiping the backs of my hands across my cheeks. I slid my palm over the crib’s matching dresser before making my way to a rocking chair in the corner. I sat down, patted the bookshelf next to me, and rocked.
“Aiden, this is beyond anything I could have imagined. You did this all by yourself?” I pushed my heel into the ground, rocking the child inside of me.
“I had help. My brother, DTF, and even Earl. We all pitched in. That’s what friends are for.” He shrugged.
And there it was. I slowed my rocking to a stop.
Friends.
“Right. Because friends do these fairy-tale things. Like something straight out of a movie. Friends. Super friends.” I turned my gaze toward the window, wishing he would disappear. A few seconds ago, I’d wanted to confess my feelings, but now, I couldn’t even look at him. All the talk about his feelings when he stayed over had been just that. Talk. After sex. Typical.
“You’re more than a super friend to me, Layla.” He crouched in front of me, running his hands under my skirt, exposing my legs. His lips swept across my knee, pecking me with tiny, gentle kisses.
I wanted to ask him what that meant.
Just exactly what kind of mind games is this man playing?
Does he mean I am only a super lover too?
Is sex all he thinks about when he is near me?
Why do things have to be so complicated with my friend/baby daddy?
“After what happened between Jay and Rox, I want to make sure you are well taken care of. Not that she wasn’t. I understand those things just happen. But it scared me.” He smoothed his palms over my legs. His touch wasn’t the usual fiery, sexual flames from his fingertips. It was more of a reassurance touch—a friendly touch.
“What happened between Rox and Jay? What are you talking about?” I sat up in the chair, groaning with each shift of my belly.
“She didn’t tell you? I thought …” His voice trailed off. “Fuck, I’m an idiot. I’m sorry, Layla. I thought you knew. I was pretty sure DTF talked about everything.”
“What are you trying to say? What happened? You’re worrying me.” A wave of nausea washed over me.
I’d been preoccupied with my own troubles and not noticed something was wrong with my friend.
Aiden’s hands became clammy against my legs. “No, no, no. That is exactly what I didn’t want to happen. Don’t worry about a thing. That’s probably why you didn’t know in the first place! Bloody hell. Layla.”
“Tell me.” I braced myself.
“There was an accident. Rox lost her baby. I’m sorry. I’m going to go talk to them and let you take some time.” He rose, leaving the room.
I couldn’t respond. My throat tightened, strangling anything that tried to escape into a silent dread. I’d had no idea my best friend had been pregnant.
EIGHT
Aiden
“She’ll be all right, brother. Don’t beat yourself up.” Jay clapped me on the back as I sat, slumped at the bar.
We’d closed an hour ago, but I stayed to clean up and to drink my troubles away.
“I’m so sorry. I thought she knew. I’d been so involved with work and getting that nursery together that I didn’t think to ask. I thought they talked about everything. That’s DTF!” I wiped my fingertips across the condensation building on my whiskey glass before rubbing the back of my neck.
I wished I had someone to tuck me into a warm bed with a cold rag. After leaving Layla’s place, I suddenly hadn’t felt well. I’d had this same feeling when I left Monica—or when she had told me the truth about the child.
“Look, they’re going to have a sad night. There’s no getting around it. But she needs her friends right now, and they’ll take care of her. You know they will.” He topped off my glass.
“But I’m her friend too,” I mumbled.
“Oh no, buddy. You don’t get to lie to me. You’re the father of her child and much more than a friend to her. I know you more than anyone. You’re heartbroken right now. And it’s not even over anything you did wrong. It’s because of how you feel toward Layla. You love her, mate. So, tell me why exactly you two haven’t made it official? You’re starting a family, for crying out loud!”
“What about you, Jay? You and Rox started a family, and you aren’t married either.” I gulped my drink, feeling the burn as it slid down my throat.
“We aren’t playing like we’re just friends. We’re living together. Marriage has come up. Believe me, I’d marry that woman in a heartbeat. It’s Rox who wants to take things slower. She’s still … recovering. From a lifetime full of shitty dealt cards, apparently. But I have hope I’ll get there with her one day. But you …” Jay poured himself a drink and leaned down to meet my gaze.
“Hopium. It’s not hope. It’s hopium. And once you have that, it’s dangerously addictive. That’s why I’ve given it up.”
“Horseshit.”
“It’s true.” I took another sip of my whiskey.
“If you didn’t have hope, you wouldn’t have signed that contract on the new restaurant or prepared the bedroom of your soon-to-be-born daughter. You have it. Just not when it comes to the ladies. And that is Monica’s doing. What she put you through … that’s why you’re holding off on making it official with Layla. I’m not an idiot. I run from my problems, but you … you completely ignore them. What did Layla say when you told her about Monica?” Jay stood up and swirled the giant ice cube in his glass before taking a swig.
“I’ve not told her.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, shutting my eyes. I knew the expression that would cross his face if I had the balls to look at him. I couldn’t handle any more shame at this moment. So, true to my nature, I shut it out.
“Fuck,” Jay said, walking around the bar and settling on a barstool beside me. “She needs to know. You’re going to start doing that thing you do when things get rough—and they will get rough. You’ll pull away, turn
to your work, and ignore the world on fire around you. Don’t do that with her. She’s worth more to you. I see it, even if you don’t. But I know you do. You just won’t admit it. You need to tell her about Monica before things go any further.”
“How can they go any further? She’s having my baby! I can’t tell her, Hey, surprise, I’ve done this baby thing before, and it damaged the shit out of me. That’s why I haven’t taken it to the next level with you. I don’t want to ruin what we have now for a chance at what could be.”
“See, you know it too.” He threw back his drink. “You haven’t taken it to the next level because you’re damaged goods. I know a thing or two about that. Rox knows a thing or two about that. Betty. Nikki. Terrance.”
“Not Layla. Her parents gave her a picture-perfect life. She won’t understand. She’s so damn happy and joyful and …” I reached across the bar, grabbed the bottle of whiskey, and poured more into my glass.
“And she was forced to give up her dream at art school because she was broke. Now, she’s trying to figure out where she fits into school and DTF while struggling as a soon-to-be single mom. She’s never had a serious relationship. She’s knocked up by someone who keeps her at arm’s length. If you think anyone in the world has a life without some kind of damage, you’re kidding yourself. Is that what too much hopium does?”
“Wait. How do you know all of this? She’s never had a serious relationship?” I scrubbed my hand over my face, regretting that last pour of whiskey.
“Because Rox talks. We talk. About you two and what could be.” He looked up at the ceiling and sighed. “Everyone does! We all see it. You two are just stubborn as fuck! Talk. Communicate. You don’t know that she’s never had someone pick her, love her, choose her. She thinks she is damaged goods whether you want to think so or not. And she doesn’t know you think you are damaged goods and that’s why you’re afraid to tell her the truth and risk it. You’re having a baby. If you won’t do it for you or Layla, do it for your daughter. It’s worth a shot to give that little girl a family. Together. And I don’t mean switching weekends. I mean, like Mum and Dad were for us. Don’t you want your child to have that?”