Snake (a Stepbrother Romance)(9)

The pros were obvious, but the cons seemed so much more likely to happen. I hadn’t realised so much could go wrong in a pregnancy and birth. My Google searches led me to sites about birth defects and illnesses, and nine months, which hadn’t seemed like a very long time at all, suddenly loomed into something so much more - like too much time for something to go wrong.

I called Suzanne. “Dude, I’m panicking. Do you know how risky pregnancies are?”

“Wait, what? You’re actually thinking about it?” she gasped.

“Maybe…” I said trailing off.

“Oh. My. God. This is nuts! You’re nuts! But women do have babies every day, you know,” she said. “Successfully.”

“I know,” I said. “But I was researching online—” Suzanne cut me off.

“Looking online is not ‘researching’,” she said. “It’s torturing yourself by reading every worst-case scenario and every outlier situation that has ever happened to anyone with a computer. If you really want to research, go to a clinic. Go to your doctor.”

“You’re right, as usual,” I sighed. “It’s such a big step if I went ahead, and you know…”

“I still can’t believe you’re serious.”

“I know you were kidding when you mentioned it, but you should have seen the look on Devan’s face. It was like someone had just thrown him a life preserver when he’d given up all hope. I had no idea things were that bad.”

“I did see the look on his face. And that’s why you need to do some actual research, and you need to talk to both of Devan and Monique. If you can help them out in this way, can you imagine?”

“Again, you’re right.”

“Of course I am! Give them a call tonight, and let’s meet for happy hour tomorrow. I have a feeling your drinking days are numbered.”

I could hear Suzanne smiling on the other end of the phone; she knew what my ultimate decision would be.

I wandered around my apartment and started to pack a few things I found in my closet into a box, ready to go look at the studio about Dev’s garage, and stopped short as my hand trailed over the little dresses hanging up on the rail.

This time next month, I could be pregnant. I probably wouldn’t be able to wear any of my usual clothes… The thought was so strange. Was I actually considering doing this?

After I packed up my things I tidied the whole apartment, trying to take my mind off what may happen in the future if I went ahead and did this crazy thing.

Slumping down upon the couch, I opened a well-deserved bag of chips. The salt tasted delicious, and I licked my fingertips and remembered what I’d done with them the night before. I shook my head, trying to scatter the thoughts, but all my restless energy travelled down my body to my legs. They twitched under me. I couldn’t stop thinking about my dream, Devan or… carrying his baby.

“Fuck it,” I said to my empty apartment. There is only one way to stop this, I thought.

I grabbed my phone and found the contact I was looking for, hoping he’d answer my text.

U should come over…





A few agonisingly slow minutes went by before I got a response.

2 nites in a row? U must be hungry.





Get over here. Now!





I’ll stop at Tasty’s on the way.





I laughed. How come I hadn’t married Mark? A man who would come over at my beck and call and would bring my favourite food? I sighed.

But I already knew the answer to that question: because Mark was a cheating scumbag, he couldn’t be trusted, and any time we got serious for more than a few months, things would fall apart. His eyes would stray, and I’d find him nine-inches deep inside some bar ho.

No, this arrangement suited me nicely. We both got what we wanted, perhaps not what I needed… but at least we were great bed buddies and my heart wasn’t shattered in the process.

Half an hour later, Mark walked through my front door. The smell of burgers and fries filled my apartment, and my stomach growled in appreciation, for both the food and the man before me.

Instead of diving right into the food he’d brought, I grabbed his hand and pulled him into the unlit bedroom. Mark got the idea and soon took the lead, moving in on me, kissing my neck, my collarbone, my shoulder.

Stripping me bare and laying me on the bed, he kissed down to my breast, and I sighed happily and lay back, allowing him to crawl on top of me.

I closed my eyes, letting his hands explore my body.

But I imagined another man; one with tattoos trailing up his arms, parting my wet lips and entering me; claiming me for his own.





6





Devan





“I know what you’re thinking, honey, but honestly, this could be the solution we’ve been waiting for.”