"You done for the night?" Justin asked the second I stepped foot inside the changing room.
I did a double-take when I caught a glimpse of him in the mirror, sporting some kind of cheesy, fake tattoo. "Looks good, right?" he asked, grinning like a kid.
I secured the towel around my waist and went over to him, eyeing the thing on his chest.
"Looks like you got it out a cereal box, man," was my honest response. He laughed and I went on, extending an offer I'd given countless times before. "Why don't you come to the shop and let me hook you up with a real one? Something simple, maybe something written in Haitian Creole to represent? Won't cost you a thing," I added.
He cocked his head to the side and touched the outline of his latest artwork-if you could even call it that. When he shook his head, I knew what he was about to say. "I don't know. I'm still on the fence."
I laughed. "You're not on the fence, you're scared. At least admit it."
He left the fake ink alone and ran a brush over his fade, eyeing his freshly cut lineup. "It's not about being scared," he started. "It's my mom. You know how she is."
I was cracking up before he even finished and so was he.
"You think it's a game, but let my mom find out I let you, or anybody else, defile this body … " he paused to shake his head. "It wouldn't be pretty for either one of us."
This guy was twenty-four years old, had lived on his own since he was eighteen, but was still scared of his damn momma.
Ridiculous.
"Justin … dude … let me remind you that you take your clothes off for a living. I'm pretty sure that trumps getting tatted. Just sayin'."
He ignored me and went back to brushing his hair. When I got my jeans on, I took a seat on the bench and checked my phone-nine missed calls and six text messages, all from different women. For now, I ignored them. I hadn't felt much like talking and hanging out lately because my mind was on other things, like Brynn and her baby. We hadn't talked in a week and I knew she was probably expecting to hear from me by now, but I honestly didn't know what to say.
A kid. Me having a kid. That didn't even sound right.
When I took a deep breath and shoved my cell back in my bag, Justin looked over. "What you over there huffing and puffing about?"
I didn't know how to answer that. Instead of trying, I just shook my head, letting him know I wasn't in the mood to discuss it. But in true Justin-fashion, he pried anyway.
"Girl trouble?" he asked jokingly. "I keep telling you; if you're having a hard time meeting women, I can loan you one of mine."
I gave him the finger in the mirror's reflection.
"Family trouble? Something going on with your sisters?" he asked.
"Surprisingly, no. They're all good for right now. It's nothing like that this time."
"So you admit that something is wrong, though." He gave a slick grin when I walked into his trap.
"Put it this way, nothing I wanna talk about."
He grabbed the bottle of colorless olive oil from the bag with his last name, Baptiste, printed on it in bold, white letters, and then came to sit beside me.
"You know I'm not gonna stop asking, so you may as well just say whatever it is." While waiting for my answer, he proceeded to slather on the clear liquid, being careful when he got to the ridiculousness stamped in the center of his chest.
I absolutely did know he wouldn't let up, but I wasn't ready for the guys to know about my situation just yet. If something was confirmed, I wouldn't be as secretive, but for now all I had to go on was Brynn's word.
Justin paused from what he was doing and stared me down. "Your feelings hurt because I won't let you do the tattoo?" he asked patronizingly, wearing a serious expression despite the fact that I knew he was just screwing around.
I'd get tired of him asking before he'd get tired of asking, so I was bound to lose. Of all the guys, I was closest to Carlos, Logan, and Justin, and I didn't have any friends outside this place. For all intents and purposes, Indecent Exposure was like a second home to me and these guys were all my brothers. I could have just as easily called one of my three sisters, but they all had enough on their plates. I'd tell them once I knew for sure.
Bottom line: I needed to talk to someone, so it may as well be Justin.
My phone went off again and I ignored it. "A chick called the other day. Apparently, she's pregnant. And apparently, she thinks the kid is mine," I admitted, leaning my head back against the wall.
"Whoa … hold up. You got a lil Marco on the way?"
Looking around, I made sure we were alone. "Say it a little louder, man. I'm sure Big Dan didn't hear you on the door," I shot back, speaking far quieter than he had. "And that's not what I said. For now it's just speculation, but … yeah … there's a possibility that it … " I paused, taking a breath. This was all a lot to take in.
"It's cool. I get it. No need to explain," he cut in. "Is the girl coming after you for money or something?"
I shook my head. "Nah, doesn't seem like it." I pictured that look on Brynn's face when she tried to tell me she didn't care if I stuck around or not.
"Wow … you're cool, though?"
That felt like a trick question. "I guess, considering."
"What about her? She freaking out, too?"
I cleared my throat and stared at the floor. Seeing as how I hadn't so much as talked to Brynn in a week, I couldn't answer that.
Justin gave me a look. "You're avoiding her," he concluded. My lack of a response answered his question.
He was quiet and I knew he had an opinion about that even though he hadn't said it out loud. If I had to guess, he was thinking what a dick I was being and that I should have at least called and checked on Brynn. I knew these things, too, but hadn't been able to bring myself to do it.
Justin let me off the hook and changed the subject. "You sure it's even yours?"
I shook my head again. "All I know for now is that we did hook up at some point, but I don't know who else she's been with."
Yeah, Brynn tried to say it was just me, but that was kinda hard to believe. I mean, not to put her down or anything, but who's to say she wasn't with other guys around that time, too. That's just the reality of the situation.
"Then that's the first thing you need to figure out," Justin cut in.
I agreed; however, it wasn't that clear cut. "Yeah, but I don't know if I can pretend to be involved, pretend to be on board with this thing for the next seven months until she goes into labor." The thought of not knowing for that long made me uneasy.
Justin lowered his head and laughed to himself. "We're not living in the stone-age anymore, man. They can do DNA tests while she's still carrying. Don't you ever watch Discovery Channel? TLC?"
I hadn't realized that was possible.
"Listen, Marco. Just talk to her," he urged. "Start there. Find out if she's cool with doing the test now, but until then, just take things one day at a time. But definitely call her," he repeated, making sure to stress that part.
I heard Justin loud and clear, but what he advised was easier said than done; calling Brynn, facing my fears. This situation had affected me in ways few other things in life had. In fact, aside from some things I went through as a kid, I couldn't think of anything more stressful. I wanted to be a good man, wanted to do the right thing, but … I just wasn't sure I was ready for this. Any of it, really.
Still, Justin's advice hadn't fallen on deaf ears and I'd take it into consideration.
Chapter Five
Brynn
It got harder and harder to get out of bed every day, especially with the morning-sickness. After several mad-dashes for the toilet these past few weeks, I seriously contemplated just putting an air mattress in the bathroom and calling it a day. Actually, the nausea was the symptom that made me consider the possibility of being pregnant in the first place-the missed period and fluctuating scale were of the norm for me. The fatigue and lightheadedness was new, though. Both started two weeks to the date after finding out I was expecting and I made a mental note to bring this up during my next appointment.
Wiping my mouth with a wad of tissue, I flushed and stood to my feet again. This was disgusting. Not just the vomiting, but even the way I felt. It was like my body was going haywire all of a sudden now that this pregnancy had been confirmed. My nose was constantly stuffy thanks to my allergies being super-charged by this ordeal and my nipples burned like someone had slathered them with Crisco and set them on fire.
Generally speaking, I felt like crap.
Two weeks had passed since meeting Marco to discuss our situation. He hadn't tried to reach out even once, so I was pretty sure he probably wouldn't at this point. Part of that was my fault, though. In an effort to not make him feel so pressured, I was pretty sure I made it seem like I was indifferent to his involvement, which couldn't have been further from the truth. Still, his stance was clear. If he wanted to be present, he would've called by now.