Page 74 of One Moment Please
“You don’t understand, Max. We were at each other’s throats before and we’re getting along much better now. And Lynsey is adamant about not wanting a serious relationship because it’ll get in the way of her career.”
He laughs disbelievingly. “And a baby won’t?”
I hit him with a flat look. “She doesn’t exactly have a choice with the baby, Max. But she has a choice with me.”
“Well, that works out really well for you.” He picks up his glass. “You’ve never been a relationship guy and that was a fact well before everything that happened in Baltimore.”
I clench my teeth at his pointed remark. I hate how everything always comes back to Baltimore. My parents and Max are the only ones who know the details of those dark days and, most of the time, I wish I’d never told them.
But Max is right about my lack of relationships. I’ve never cared about women beyond a physical connection. Growing up, my focus was on school because I always knew I wanted to be a doctor, and nothing was going to get in my way.
Until a couple of years ago.
Max distracts my thoughts when he asks, “Do you think maybe Lynsey and this baby could…I don’t know…heal you?”
“Heal me?” I snap, my shoulders tensing. “Am I sick?”
“You know what I mean,” he replies, his expression wary. “After everything with Julian, don’t you think maybe this could be your—”
“Second chance?” I snap, my voice gruff with anger as I finish his sentence. “Don’t bring up Julian’s name, okay? He’s gone. And it was my fault, and he wasn’t even my kid to fuck up to begin with. So, no, this baby isn’t my second chance. The two situations are nothing alike. My situation with Lynsey is just that…a situation that I’ll take care of.”
He shakes his head, sadness filling his eyes. “It’s more than a situation, Josh.”
“Stop, okay? I don’t need this from you.” I dig my wallet out for some cash to throw onto the bar. “You’re the only friend I fucking talk to. Don’t make me regret that, man.”
He holds up his hands in defeat and offers me a smile that I’d really like to punch off his face. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m here for you, Josh. However you need me.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I need you to be the kind of friend that gets me drunk and tells me it’s going to be okay.”
His lips pull back into a wide smile. “Good thing that’s my specialty.”
It’s after five when the Uber drops me off in front of my house. Max and I ended up playing pool all afternoon and drinking our weight in whisky so driving home wasn’t a good idea.
The day turned out halfway enjoyable once we got the heavy shit out in the open. I had no idea how badly I needed to go out with a friend.
When I walk in the door, the tantalizing aroma of dinner welcomes me inside. In the kitchen, I open the oven to sneak a peek. A pan of lasagna cooks. The clock shows fifty minutes ticking down.
Timers are good, Jones. Timers means no fires and no burned hands and no accidents that make me lose my damned mind.
I make my way down the hall, following the country music pouring from the guest bathroom. I pause and press my ear to the door to make sure I hear movement.
“Fuck me deep and hard. I want you to touch my cervix with that big, fat cock that gets me so damned wet.”
My blood pressure sky rockets. I shove the door open, my heart in my throat. But when my glazed eyes focus, the only person there is Lynsey—in the tub, covered in bubbles, except for her two hands which are popped out of the water, holding a paperback book.
“Jesus!” she cries, nearly dropping the book into the water and recovering it before it fully submerges. “You scared the shit out of me, Josh.”
I check around the bathroom, needing double confirmation that nobody is with her. I stride to the counter and shut off her Bluetooth speaker, stopping the music and attempting to restart my heart. “Who the hell are you talking to in here?” The image of Lynsey talking dirty to another guy—a guy I hate to admit that I pictured as Dean—doing its best to sober me up.
“I was talking to the peanut,” she retorts, turning to set the book down on the round wooden stool beside the tub. She pushes back some loose strands of hair that have fallen out of her messy bun and pins me with an angry look. “Mind telling me why you decided to barge in here and scare me so much I almost peed in the tub?”
I stand awkwardly in front of her. “I um…thought someone was in here.”
Her brows furrow. “You thought I was asking someone to touch my cervix in here?”
I recoil at the memory. “It sounded bad on the other side of that door, okay?”
She rolls her eyes and moves to rest her arms on the edge of the tub, water dripping off into the rock bed drain below. “My pregnancy book says that the peanut can hear now so it’s a good idea to talk to the little one so they get used to the sound of my voice. I’ve been talking out loud all week. It’s a bonding experience.”
