Because I’m now spending every day at Mr. Parker’s mansion, babysitting Violet while also playing with her dad, my body alert, on fire, each time he looks at me, each time he touches me. My parents know nothing of course, they think I’m a saint for helping a single dad get through a tough time, filling in while he searched for a nanny.
And while I love being with Mr. Parker, this particular night I was exhausted and tired from singing the same songs over and over, rocking the baby in my arms until they were like lead. But I loved Violet too much to say no, absolutely adored the little girl, and it seemed my maternal instincts turned Pete on, his blue eyes alert, trailing my form as I sat myself onto a stool in the kitchen.
“Everything okay?” he rumbled low in his chest.
I nodded.
“You’re so lucky to have a baby like Violet,” I smiled while sipping at the tea he pushed towards me. Ooh, it was extra hot, just the way I like it. “She’s amazing, just so special.”
Pete’s eyes flared then, but he didn’t say anything for a moment before clearing his throat slightly.
“You ever think about having your own?” he asked nonchalantly, expression curiously guarded.
And I sighed deeply. Because Mr. Parker was touching on one of my sore spots, an area that I was sure about but at the same time, also confused. Because yes, I desperately wanted children but I was too young right? Eighteen is too young to be a mom, right?
So I smiled at him, determined not to say anything, but his blue eyes were so warm, so inviting, that I let it all out, right there at his kitchen table. I don’t know what was wrong with me, maybe it was the amazing sex we’ve been having, maybe it’s because he’s my first, or maybe it’s just that it’s him. But I felt safe, I felt fine with letting out one of my deepest secrets.
“Yes,” I said slowly, firmly, “I absolutely want kids, and I’m hoping … the sooner the better,” I rushed.
He quirked an eyebrow at me.
“Well, what’s stopping you then?” he rumbled, voice low. I could tell he was trying to seem casual, but his body was too still, as if waiting on my every word.
“Well, you know,” I sighed. “I’m too young.”
He paused again.
“In what sense?” he said smoothly, face expressionless.
And I just sighed, hunching over my mug of tea.
“Well you know, I’m supposed to go to college, be this good student, and then there’s grad school after that, and then my career …” I said, voice trailing off. “It’s going to take years,” I said ruefully. “I’m barely at rung one of this giant ladder that goes into the sky, it’s going to take forever to climb.”
Mr. Parker was silent again.
“Well you have time,” he said slowly, thoughtfully. “You’re only eighteen baby, you’ve got plenty of years ahead of you. If you want kids, you’ll make it happen, I know you will.”
I nodded.
“I know I’ll have kids,” I agreed, nodding my head, biting my lip. “But the things is, according to my career trajectory it’s not supposed to happen until I’m in my thirties, or late twenties at the earliest,” I said, lips pulling into a twist. “I mean, with all that I have to get done, all the school, the studying, the exams, the internships, twenty-nine is probably the earliest I could get pregnant, and Pete, that’s eleven years from now.”
The big man was silent, looking at me carefully.
“Well, we’re not exactly playing it safe baby,” he said pointedly, “We haven’t been using anything, you said you wanted it that way.”
And I flushed. I’d felt his dick in me bare so many times now that I couldn’t possibly imagine it any other way. So I nodded.
“I know, Mr. Parker, I know, I think it’s part of my rebellion,” I whispered, clutching my cup tight to my chest. “I feel like the world wants me to be one way, but I want to be another.”
He cocked his head at me, blue eyes gleaming.
“And what do you want then?” he asked, casual, smooth. “What’s your heart telling you?”
I sighed again.
“My heart and my body are telling me to stop, to get off this career train,” I said slowly, feeling each word come out of my mouth. It was like a betrayal, everything my parents taught me flushed down the drain. But at the same time, it was a relief to finally get it out there. I’d been groomed since I was five to be a high-powered professional woman and to hear that I didn’t want it, that it wasn’t me, was curiously empowering. So I looked at him.
“You have to understand,” I started slowly. “My mom and dad are working class folk, neither of them went to college, so for me to be at Evergreen makes them so proud,” I managed. “Getting my four-year is a huge thing for them.”