Page 117 of Rockstar Baby
At night in bed, when I was alone and terrified, in the morning when I woke and wasn’t sure how I’d ever be enough for not only myself but a baby who would depend on me for everything. Every time I looked at the door of the diner and hoped he would walk in so I wouldn’t feel so hollow inside.
These crazy, confusing emotions were my daily reality now. Wanting him with me. Missing him. Wishing I wasn’t so foolish to fall for a guy who couldn’t—wouldn’t—fall back.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he murmured, brushing kisses over my hair.
Even that made me react. My body was traitorous and not to be trusted. It was as if I’d become hardwired to respond to his voice. His touch. Those shockingly gentle blue eyes trained on mine as I finally lifted my head.
I moved back because I had to. Keeping my distance was the only way I’d get through this.
“I can’t believe you.”
He scraped a hand through his longer-than-usual hair, the gold and red highlights shimmering from the sun coming through the windows. “I can’t believe me right now either. First time up at bat in how long and I made a baby?”
I narrowed my eyes.“Wemade a baby. If my eggs weren’t fresh like a prize hen’s, your swimmers would’ve died a fiery death.”
His mouth curved and I thought he might laugh. If he had, I probably would have clocked him with the vase alone this time, sparing the innocent flowers.
“I shouldn’t have asked if it was mine.”
“No kidding.”
“It’s just been months and you called to let me down easy—”
“Oh, no, buster, I did not call to let you down easy. This is your baby as much as mine.” I stepped forward and poked him in the chest. “I don’t want your stupid money for me, but you will provide for your child if there are things that I can’t. Though I’m going to try. I’m going to try to give him or her the fucking world.” I dashed at the tears dripping down my chin yet again with my other hand, smacking at them to make them disappear.
I was not some weak woman who couldn’t take care of her business. I was just so freaking irritated right now that I probably could’ve castrated him with my ice cream scoop and not even felt guilty.
At least until tomorrow.
He gripped my hand and held it tight while his gaze locked on mine. Only then did I see the deep lines around his eyes as if he hadn’t been sleeping well. And the way his shirt hung on him looser than it had in the past.
Had to be my imagination. I was the one who’d suffered during our separation.
Not him. He was the freewheeling playboy living the California lifestyle with all his rocker pals. Being the big shot and spending money while I scrambled for tips at the diner.
“Of course I’ll do my part. I would never shirk my responsibility.” The indignation in his tone soothed the side of me that had worried my income wouldn’t be enough to provide for my child.
No matter how hard I worked, I was starting a new business. Most businesses lost money the first few years, if they even survived. I liked to wear my rose-colored glasses, but I couldn’t right now. Not when I had a baby to consider.
Knowing Rory would be there financially if needed was a relief.
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“You’re damn right I don’t. It’s your responsibility, as you just said. We were both reckless, but I wasn’t reckless alone.”
“Reckless by even having sex at all? We were careful—” He broke off and wiped his hand down the side of his face. “Except that one time I forgot, but I blame the copper for that.”
“How exactly is it fault of the ‘copper’ when we were mid-sex when he arrived?”
“I didn’t even finish!”
“Someone missed their high school health classes. You can get knocked up without the full explosion.”
“There wasn’t even a partial explosion,” he muttered. “I barely got off three strokes.”
“As much as I love this trip down memory lane, that wasn’t when. We timed where I was in my cycle and the baby’s progress and it probably happened the first night we met. If not, certainly the next afternoon. So, you could’ve gotten off eighteen strokes bare, and it wouldn’t have mattered.”
