LOVE ‘EM(49)
“No one is going to treat you like an idiot. If they try, I’ll kick their fucking asses.”
For the fifth time, I tuck the white stick into the box. I wish I could put the results into a box as easily.
Positive. As in, I’m positively pregnant. And so screwed.
I need to get a place of my own. Shayna insists I stay here. But the glamor of a new baby will wear off in a hurry, and I plan to move out before it strains our relationship—no matter what kinds of arguments she throws at me.
I trash the box, wash my hands, and head to the kitchen for something to settle my stomach. Bread might work. When I hit the doorway, I stop.
Jackson sits at the table.
My queasy stomach turns a somersault. I dash for the sink.
I hang onto the counter as the small bit of food I was able to hold down for breakfast comes up.
Big hands pull my hair away from my face. “Wow. Never had that reaction to my presence before.”
I turn on the water and rinse my mouth. A towel appears in my peripheral. I take it and swipe it across my chin and neck.
“What are you doing here, Jackson? I told you before that you should always call. This time I’m actually sick. You should leave before you catch something.”
“Are you going to break out with a case of uncontrollable, raging rabbit squirts next?”
I toss him a look.
He coughs into his hand. “Sorry. I—you don’t seem too inclined to take my calls lately.”
I close my eyes and do my best to swallow the next bout of nausea fighting to embarrass me. “I’ve been busy. Lots of time with Dave and working on my next book.”
If you can call staring at a blank screen working.
“You and Dave are still a thing, huh?”
I shrug. “Sure. Why wouldn’t we be? I told you my methods work.”
His arms come around me, and his eyes connect with mine. “I’ve been missing you, Peaches.”
My nerves go haywire. I bite the inside of my lip.
His hold tightens, and everything in me wants to melt into him.
But I’m not ready to get pulled back in. How do I tell him what he deserves to know? Or does he deserve to know anything? He’d only have one suggestion. Take care of it.
“Haven’t you missed me at all?” he whispers in my ear, sending a shiver through me.
No. It’s too fresh. I have to wait until I get a handle on everything. Plus, there’s no sense in telling him until I’m further along. It’s an unnecessary argument if something should happen that would make the conversation null and void.
I withdraw from his grasp. “Now that things have finally started working with Dave, I really need to focus on that relationship. I have a bet to win so my book doesn’t get ditched.”
He nods, his expression stony as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “All right; I get it. I guess I should go. I’ll have Cindy give you a call. We’ll need to send in Shayna soon. We plan on revealing the results of the bet on Friday, the twelfth.”
He straightens his hunched shoulders and turns to leave.
I follow him to the door, my hand pressed over the knot of fear lodged beneath my breastbone.
He steps into the sun. When he opens the car door, he stands for a moment, his gaze holding mine. He lifts a finger in salute and slides into his seat.
Something propels me down the walkway. “Jack! Wait.”
He hops out and leans on the roof of his car. I stop at the passenger side.
“So a few days ago, you said we were friends. Did you mean it?” I hold my breath.
His lip pulls up on one side, revealing a dimple. “Yeah. I meant it.”
“Well, just because I’m seeing Dave, it doesn’t mean you and I can’t hang out—if we’re friends. Right?”
His eyebrows shoot up and his half-grin blooms into a full smile that takes over his face. “Sure. I guess. I’m still going to hound you to let me suck on that peach-flavored pussy one more time. But if you can handle that, then—yeah. Let’s do it.”
His joke sends a thrill of heat through me, blocking out the sickness that seemed to have settled in.
I wink. “Well, I suppose if you can handle the rejection…”
“I don’t get rejected often, but I can learn.” He slaps the top of his car lightly. “So, when can we hang out?”
“Whenever you want. Well, unless I’m out with Dave or working.”
“Tell you what: you give me a call when you have some free time. I’ll pick you up. We can—I don’t know. We’ll find something to do.”
My first unforced smile in days creeps across my face. “Okay. I’ll do that.”
I swing around toward the house, that tiny kernel of excitement deep inside shining so brightly that I can’t hide it. Good thing he can’t see my lips.