Page 33 of Only for Tonight
“Whoa,” she teases, “living on the edge.” I throw my head back and laugh at the same time she leans forward and kisses my neck. “I love the sound of your laugh,” she whispers in my ear before sitting back in her corner. “Now, we should talk before the food gets here.”
“Let’s do that,” I agree, not sure how to start, but one look from Ariella and I know she’s about to start it.
“How are you feeling?” She puts her elbow on the back of the couch and leans her head on her fisted hand.
“A little freaked out,” I confess to her, and she nods with a sad smile on her face. “It’s not like we were together and this was the next step. I mean, it’s not like this was planned or anything. It’s just like we had this amazing fucking night and then we parted ways and then six weeks later it’s like hi…” I lift my hand to wave at her. “Hello, I’m pregnant.”
“I get it,” she admits to me. “I spent a good two days in shock myself.”
“How did you find out?” I ask her, wanting to know everything she has been up to in the past six weeks .
“I had coffee one morning,” she starts to tell me the story, she laughs when she tells me about ordering pregnancy tests from an app, “and well, then nine tests later there was no mistake. I got a plus sign, two lines, and then one that literally said pregnant in the middle of it.”
“I’m sorry you went through that alone.” I rub my hand up and down her leg, before draping it over her.
“I kept them all in the bathroom on the sink in a cup.” She smiles and then laughs. “Every single time I went to the bathroom and then would wash my hands, I would look at them to see if maybe they changed.” She makes a joke of it. “Spoiler alert, they didn’t.”
I look at her looking at me. “My birth mother used me as a bargaining chip with my father,” I start to say, and for the first time in my life, I open up to someone about my childhood. I mean, it’s not really a secret, everyone close to me knows. I’m pretty sure even Ariella knows from the gossip over the years, but I’ve never, ever said it out loud or admitted it to someone.
“I don’t know how she felt when she had me, but I know as the years went on and my father started to fall out of love with her, I was the carrot she used to dangle in front of my father.” She puts her hand on my arm, rubbing it up and down before sliding her fingers through mine. “I was too young to know what she was doing, but when I got old enough, I knew it was not right. When my father was home, it was always me and him. It would be him who would take me to hockey practice and to the games. We would watch television together and she would never be around. They even had separate bedrooms, that should have been my first clue.”
I shake my head as she squeezes my hand softly. “When he wasn’t there and it was just me and her and she didn’t have an audience, she would barely speak to me. I was sent off to watch television or play on my iPad or, better yet, I was ushered off to my best friend’s house. But the minute my father was back, she was loving and pretending she gave a shit.”
“Jaxon,” she says softly, the hand that was holding up her head now reaching around my neck.
“When my father was home, it was the best. They never did things with me together. It was always me and my dad. I didn’t even care that she wasn’t around. I just knew that with my dad, he would take care of me. It’s strange, I can’t explain it, but I knew he loved me more than he loved himself. That’s the kind of dad I want to be.” I turn my hand over to hold hers. “When I said I was in this, I meant I was in this.” I bring our hands to my mouth, kissing her hand. “I’m not as smart as my dad”—I smile at her—“but whatever I have, I’m going to give to you and our child.”
“My mom,” she starts to say. “Candace,” she says her name, “she’s not really my mom. I mean she’s my mother, there is no mistaking that. But she didn’t give birth to me. My mother died in childbirth.” My mouth opens in shock. “Yeah, but no one knows. I mean, people know but it’s not like it’s a big deal. I’ve never in my life felt she loved me any less than she loved my sister and brother. Not one day did I ever feel like she favored them over me.”
“I don’t know about you.” I move to have her in my lap, needing to touch her. She sits in my lap and I wrap one arm around her waist, while I place the other one at her stomach. “But we have some pretty big shoes to fill.” She smiles and I see the tears in her eyes. “I don’t want to be a vacation dad,” I admit to her, and she inhales. “Yeah. You live in New York.”
“I do, and you live here.”
“I have to live here,” I correct her statement. “I’d do anything to make this whole situation easier on you,” I say softly, “but I can’t leave California. I’m locked into a contract.”
“The big man throwing out the law,” she tries to joke. “I’m not going to lie. That was the first thing I thought about.”
“I promise that I’d do anything for you and the baby and I’ll do anything to make the both of you feel at home here. Do you think you could think about moving here?” I ask her, trying not to get my hopes up.
“I mean, if anyone would have to move, it would be me. Legally that is.” She uses my words and I don’t waste a minute more without kissing her. She inhales deeply before hugging me and it’s not a soft hug, no, she gives it all to me. Tightening just enough for me to feel her heat on my body. She puts her head on my shoulder and buries her face in my neck. “I broke our promise,” she murmurs softly as she adjusts in my lap and straddles me, not moving her face from my neck. My arms wrap around her, hoping she likes my hugs as much as I like hers.
I inhale the smell of her, loving that she smells like me and my body wash from the shower mixed with her citrus. “How so?”
“We said we wouldn’t tell anyone about that night,” she reminds me softly. “I told Zoey.” I close my eyes and roll my lips. “I’m sorry, it was just seeing you at the restaurant and then with Spencer.”
“That guy is a tool, by the way,” I quickly tell her, trying not to be bothered by his name but secretly hating him.
She laughs and then kisses my neck softly. “He is,” she agrees. “I was freaked, so I blurted it out.”
I rub her back. “It’s okay.” I let her off the hook. “I’m pretty sure the fact you’re having my baby—” I move my hand to her stomach now, holding her and our child.
“Our baby.” She sits up. “It’s not just yours.”
“Baby,” I say softly as she glares at me.
“Don’t say it,” she warns me.
“But it’s my baby.” I try not to laugh. “I put it there.”
