Page 106 of Act Like You Don't Care
I opened the passenger door for him. “Get in. We’ll go get it checked out.”
He didn’t move. “Never mind. You’re mad at me. I’ll take a cab. I’m sorry I dragged you out here.”
Shit. I took a seat beside him on the step and put an arm around his shoulder. His body was stiff, refusing to yield to the gentle pressure of my hug. “I’m not mad at you. But you have a month to go. Everyone says everything’s fine.”
He was quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on one of the plants in the big bed in the front yard. His shoulders were still as tight as they’d been when I sat down beside him. “Yeah, you’re right. Go back to work, Miles. I’m just being a needy omega and I hate that.” He patted me on the knee and turned to me with a smile on his face that I might have believed if I hadn’t gotten to know him so well. He started to get up, but I stopped him.
“You’re not. This is a pretty big thing for both of us.” I thought for a second, fighting against the constant distraction of his body against mine. “Why don’t I stay here for the last month?”
“What?” His mouth fell open and he stared at me in pure unadulterated surprise. “You? Here?”
I shrugged. “Yeah. The more I think about it, the more I like the idea.” It might make Tam feel better if he wasn’t rattling around in this big house by himself. It was closer to work than my apartment. And while I’d mostly given up on any chance of Tam making a move to push our relationship past simple friends and co-parents, I was honest enough with myself that I could admit that hope had never quite died.
Tam stared into the distance, a small frown creasing the skin of his forehead, and shook his head. “No, that’s okay. I know you have a life.” He let out a harsh breath and bent over his belly.
“Tam?” I leaned in to examine his face. He nodded at me but didn’t say anything, his expression focused on something I couldn’t see. Maybe he was right—this didn’t look like practice.
“No, I’m fine,” he said on a rush of air and sat up. His face was flushed and he put a fist in the small of his back, kneading at the muscle there. “I’m sorry. I’m not being a particularly good friend here. Did I screw up your day really badly?” He squinted at me, then looked away.
“It’s okay. They need to get used to doing without me a little when the baby comes.”
His eyes widened. “Why?”
“I’m not going to leave you all alone in this. It’s called co-parenting, not taking-turns parenting.” I had been neglecting him a little lately, lost in a rush of work for the business and a few contracts I’d taken on for a couple of law enforcement agencies. And, yes, a little depressed that my hopes for something more intimate with Tam seemed to be fading into the past. I wasn’t quite ready to accept the premise yet, but I was starting to come to the conclusion that I really had just been a short-term fling. I needed to stop reading into his efforts at being friends and parents together. In this, Tam was turning out to be much more practical, much more mature, than I was. “Would you rather I stayed at my place?” I’d give him that out, anyway.
His mouth worked for a second, then he shook his head. “No, I’d… It would be great if you wanted to stay here.” The tension in his shoulders disappeared and his eyes turned two shades bluer in the sunshine. “I’d like to have someone here, just in case.”
And there it was. I’d left him sitting here in this house all by himself, with a baby on the way, and no one to lean on. Some alpha I’d turned out to be. SomepsychologistI’d turned out to be. “I’ll pack some stuff and bring it over after we get back from the hospital,” I assured him. “Just get used to me taking over the dining room table.”
He shrugged. “I never use it anyway.” He leaned into me with his shoulder and grinned. “It’ll be like a month-long sleepover.”
I laughed. “No pillow fights, please. I always lost.”
His eyelids drooped over a wicked glint. “Jim’s not here.”
“No,” I said, getting to my feet and holding out a hand to him. “But you are.” He let me pull him to his feet and put him in the SUV, then I took him to the hospital.
Tam
Within days of Miles moving in with me, those strong contractions had almost completely disappeared, only to be replaced by increasingly vivid dreams that woke me up with the smell of Miles in my nose and an ache for him in my skin. Nick’s dildo was getting a regular workout and I was eternally grateful that the baby’s room was between mine and Miles’s. For soundproofing.
During the day, Miles went to the office or worked at home on the dining room table while I fussed with the baby’s room, played at house omega, and alternated between reading articles on newborn care and relationship advice.
I was having better luck with the baby care blogs. Also, I was the suckiest omega who ever sucked. Except I wasn’t doing that either, because trying to show Miles that I needed him only made me look stupid. I was starting to think I should just give the poor guy a break and try again later, after pregnancy brain and all the other fun pregnancy things had gone away.
As if my body had overheard me, it decided to play games. Sometime around midnight, five or six days after Miles had moved in, I got hit with a craving. Not a bad one. Just needed protein and carbs and flavor.
The worst of my cravings had faded about two months ago—this was a breeze compared to months five and six. There’s nothing like suddenly realizing you’re in the kitchen, standing in front of an open refrigerator with an empty container in your hand that you didn’t remember eating, and absolutely no memory of how you got there. But tonight, I just really wanted Thai food. Something super hot. And peanutty.
Peanuts. My mouth watered just at the thought of them.
I stared into the cupboard and contemplated the jar of peanut butter. Maybe if I added some chili peppers to a bowlful of peanut butter…
“Are you up again?” Miles's sleepy voice behind me broke into my food reverie.
“I want Thai food. And churros,” I added as if I was being entirely normal.
“Uh-huh.” His eyes were half-shut and I felt bad for a moment, until the smell of peanuts drifted toward me from the jar in my hand.
