[2016] First Comes Love Page 7
“Okay, that’s good if it’s what you want. So you don’t know who the father is?”
My lack of response tells her everything.
“You have to tell me who, Lauren.”
I put my head in my hands. “No, I don’t. It’s bad, Katie. Really bad.”
“You’re already pregnant, Lauren. It can’t get much worse than this. Even if this guy turns out to be nothing more than a sperm donor, we can make him pay child support or something. Just tell me who you hooked up with and I’ll help, okay?”
“Okay.” I look up, meeting her eyes, feeling sick again. His name is on the tip of my tongue, yet I can’t make myself say it. I close my eyes and let out a breath. Fuck it. “Noah.”
Katie doesn’t say anything for a good thirty seconds. Then she blinks several times and pushes her eyebrows together. “Colin’s friend Noah?”
I put my head in my hands. “Yes,” I say, voice muffled.
“Are you sure it’s his?”
“Positive. Like you said, I don’t sleep around. He’s the only possible one.”
She holds up a hand. “I need a minute to process this.” Her eyes close. “So you got drunk, slept with Noah, and now you’re pregnant with his child.”
“It sounds worse when you say it out loud.”
“It sounds pretty bad in my head too. Does he know?”
I shake my head. “I thought about telling him, but I actually don’t know his number, or where he lives.”
“I’ll get the info for you.”
“Do I have to tell him? I mean, Noah … he’s not exactly father material.”
“He has the right to know. Colin is going to beat his ass. You know that, right?”
My stomach flip-flops. “I haven’t even thought about telling anyone else. Oh my god—Mom!”
“She’s going to beat your ass, once you push that baby out, that is.”
I take a sharp breath in but get no air. I take another, and another.
“Lauren, calm down!” Katie says. “Do not hyperventilate on me.”
“I … I … can’t.” My hands are trembling. I haven’t thought about pushing or labor or anything either. “I don’t know what to do,” I say and start crying. Katie’s arms go around me.
“It’s okay, Lauren. We’ll figure this out. I won’t say anything to anyone until you’re ready.”
I nod, unable to say anything while sobbing into her shoulder. She rubs my back for a minute then moves away. “Dry your eyes. Crying doesn’t solve anything, and I’m only allowing this because you’re probably hormonal and shit.”
“Probably,” I hiccup. “At least now I know why I’ve been so tired.” I wipe away tears, smearing mascara down my face. I don’t care. “What am I going to do, Katie?”
“Nothing I can say will make you feel better,” she replies slowly. “But we’ll figure this out, and you know I’m here.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. This is what sisters are for. That and it automatically gives me ‘best aunt’ status.”
Aunts. Babies. It’s all too much. “I wish I could drink right now.”
Katie laughs. “Hell, I think I need a drink. I can only imagine what you’re feeling.” She puts her arm around me. “For now, take a deep breath. I think no matter what, no matter who you’re with or where you are in life, expecting a baby causes everyone to freak out on some level.”
“I’m sure. So where do I go from here?”
Katie takes a breath. “You’ve already decided to keep the baby, so … in a perfect world, what happens next?”
I raise an eyebrow. “In a perfect world this wouldn’t have happened.”
“Well, it did,” she says pointedly. “But from here. What would happen next?”
I rub my eyes, feeling a headache coming on. “By some miracle, Noah and I would end up together. I want this child to have a mom and a dad. But that’s not—”
“Stop,” Katie says gently. “We’ve known Noah for a long time, but do you really know him?”
I start to move my head up and down then stop. “Not on a personal level. But I know him enough to know having a baby and getting married is the last thing he wants.”
Katie pushes her brunette hair back. It’s the same shade as mine, only she’s added blue and purple highlights. “Sometimes things like this change people. Remember my friend Erica?”
“The drunk? Yeah, what about her?”
“She got knocked up two years ago. She’s in nursing school now, and doesn’t party anymore. From the moment she peed on that stick and found out she was pregnant, she turned her life around. So it is possible. And you’ll never know if you don’t tell Noah and give him a chance. And if anything else, you will find out if you need to cross that hope off your list and move on. Plus figure out child support and custody and all that other legal shit I know nothing about.”
“Can I just call him? Or text. Texting is better.”
“Lauren,” Katie starts. “I know you prefer to not talk to or see people when you can help it, but this needs to be said in person. Call him, say you need to talk, and go somewhere private, like have him come back here. And if you want me to be there, I can be.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You just want to see how he reacts to this, don’t you?”
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t. But really, I want to support you. I don’t get to be the older sister that often, since you’re the responsible one. I mean, how many times in high school did you help me not get caught drinking, or sneaking out, or sneaking a boy in? You’re my sister, and I love you. And regardless of who the father is, that baby is my niece or nephew. We are family.”
“I love you,” I say and rest my head on her shoulder.
“Ditto, sis.” She gives me one more hug. “Let me do some digging and make some calls and I can get Noah’s number for you.”
“Do I have to tell him?”
She moves her head up and down. “If there is a chance he steps up, then yes.”
A chance. Hah, yeah the fuck right. I’ve known Noah for years, and have had a secret crush on him most of that time. I’ve watched him. I know the type of women he dates. I know he’s a regular heartbreaker. I’ve seen countless women fall for his charm, believe his lies, and think they can change him, that they can tame his wild heart and make him theirs.
And it never works.
So why would it work for me? I’m just Lauren, his best friend’s kid sister who just happened to get drunk and horny when he was stuck at my house waiting out the rain. I’m not the type of girl a man like Noah seeks out. Is having his baby enough to change him forever?
I lean back on the couch and look at the ultrasound photos again. Katie is right. It doesn’t matter who the father is. This is my child, my family.
“Got it,” Katie says.
“That was fast.”
She shrugs. “I might have a friend with a friend who’s hooked up with him.”
“Whatever. It is what it is.”
“Ready to call him?”
“I’m never going to be ready.”
She takes my phone and dials the number. Her finger hovers over the green call button. My heart skips a beat. She holds out the phone and presses “call.” I take the phone and put it to my ear.
Please get his voicemail. Please get his voicemail.
“Hello?”
Dammit.
“Uh, hi, Noah. It’s Lauren. Lauren Winters. Listen, Noah … we need to talk.”
Crap. Maybe Katie should have stayed, because I’m not prepared for how incredibly attractive Noah is when I answer the door half an hour later. It’s been over a month since we’ve seen each other, and the stubble on his face has grown into a beard, and damn, he looks good with it.
Fuck. Me.
Wait, no. Fucking me is what got us into this mess.
“Lauren,” he says, my name rolling off his tongue like silk. “Is everything okay?”
I stare into his blue eyes, hea
rt racing so fast it might burst out of my chest and shatter into a million pieces onto the floor.
“In theory, yes.”
He raises an eyebrow. “That’s not convincing.”
I shuffle back, taking the dogs with me so Noah can get in and through the door. I just shake my head and go into the living room. The ultrasound pictures are on the coffee table, flipped upside down. I plop onto the couch. Vader jumps up next to me, standing and wagging his long tail as Noah draws near. He sits on the opposite side, laughing when the big dog licks his face.
“What’s going on?”
I inhale and wait until Vader settles down in Noah’s lap. The dog might weigh in at a little over a hundred pounds, but he thinks he’s a lap dog.
Just say it.
“Well, I, uh, I’m…” My cheeks start to flush and I want to throw up or cry. Probably both. I take a steadying breath, close my eyes, and try to mentally prepare myself. I open my eyes and look at Noah, taken aback by how worried he looks.
It’s a look I’ve rarely seen on him. A little line forms between his eyes and that cocky, panty-melting smile is gone from his attractive face.
“Lauren?”
Fuck. Now or never.
“I’m pregnant.”
He looks … relieved?
“Fuck,” he says. “I’m sorry.”
I wait for him to say something else, to have the news sink in and the panic hit. Vader jumps off the couch to get a toy. Noah scoots closer.
“I can see how that’s upsetting,” he starts, keeping his gaze locked with mine. “But, uh, why are you telling me?”
I blink once. Twice. Three times. “Seriously?”
“Yeah,” he says and confusion takes over his face. He really has no idea. He hasn’t put two and two together. “I don’t get what this has to do with me.”
It’s like I have no control over my body. My right hand comes up and swings, flat palm hitting him in the face. The slap stings, and causes Noah to jump back in surprise.
“What the fuck?”
“I’m pregnant and you are the father,” I saw slowly through gritted teeth.
If I thought Noah looked surprised before, I was mistaken. The color drains from his face. Then he shakes his head.
“No, I’m not.”
“We hooked up. And now I’m pregnant. You are the father.”
His eyes dart around the room. “But that was over a month ago.”
“Yeah, these things take some time.”
He runs a hand over his face. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Then he looks up at me. “Are you sure it’s mine?”
I raise my arm to slap him again but Noah catches my wrist. “Yes, I’m sure. There are no other possibilities. I’ve only been with you in the last six months.”
“You’ve had sex once in half a—never mind. Are you sure?”
My eyes fill with the tears I’ve been battling. “Positive.”
Noah slides his hand up my wrist and laces our fingers. The tears roll down my cheeks. He pulls me to him, wrapping me in a hug that I didn’t know I desperately needed.
“It’ll be okay,” he says. “I don’t have a fucking clue how, but it’ll be okay.”
I slide my arms around his muscular torso, inhaling slowly to calm myself. Noah smells intoxicating, like soap and cologne, mixing with the scent of leather from his motorcycle jacket. My heart pounds in my chest, pressed against his, and it’s beating just as hard.
His lips sweep against my neck, so soft I almost don’t feel it.
Almost.
I shiver, and fight against the warmth that tingles inside of me.
I lose.
“You’re pro-choice, right?” he starts.
“Do you want me to slap you again?” I ask, yanking my hands from his.
“But you are, right?”
“Yes, I am, and my choice is to keep this baby.”
Noah swallows and moves his head up and down. “Just making sure. Because I want you to keep it.”
“Oh,” I say, having expected a different response from him. Silence falls between us, broken by the loud squeaks of Vader chomping on a rubber ball. “What do you want to do?”
“I’ll do whatever you want,” he answers without skipping a beat.
“And why would you do that?”
He looks away. “No reason … well, no reason other than my child is growing inside of you. I … I want to try, Lauren. So, what do you want?”
I shake my head. “I don’t even know. Do you think you’ll, uh, be involved, help me raise the kid, be there during the birth … that sort of thing?” I quickly look into his eyes, afraid of what I’ll see. “I don’t know what else goes into this. I’m going off of movies I’ve seen.”
“Yeah,” he says. “I think so.” He rubs his forehead. “You’re sure it’s mine?”
I tip my head up, jaw trembling. “Yes. You can get a fucking DNA test if you want. But I promise you it’s yours. I haven’t had sex, or even gotten past first base, with anyone but you in a very long time.”
He nods, considering my words. “I want to be there for all of it. If it’s mine, I mean, since it’s mine, I want to do whatever I can.” He takes my hand again and turns to me, blue eyes clouding over. “My father was never there for me. I don’t want this kid to go through that.”
A tear escapes and rolls down my cheek. Noah catches it and brushes it away. He pulls me in and kisses my forehead, then puts one hand over my stomach.
“I want to be here for both of you.”
“I want you to be here too,” I say softly, and it hits me just how much I want things to work out. But we only have nine months to figure this out, to see if we’re not only compatible with each other, but capable of loving each other enough to commit and raise our child together.
“Did you tell Colin yet?”
I shake my head. “Only Katie.” My voice quakes and I realize I’m trembling head to toe. “I have to tell my parents soon. Holy shit, they’re going to freak.”
Noah moves closer. His thigh presses against mine and he puts an arm around my shoulders.
“I’m sorry, Lauren.”
“Thanks,” I say. “It takes two, ya know. And neither one of us were thinking straight that night, so I don’t blame you entirely.”
“Not entirely? So partially?”
“Oh of course. You got me drunk then took me on that oh-so romantic motorcycle ride in the rain. I was pretty much a goner from the start.”
He laughs and the knot in my chest loosens. “I told you I’m irresistible.”
“Hardly.” I rest my head against his shoulder, blaming pregnancy hormones for finding him so fucking hot right now.
I reach out and grab the ultrasound picture. “That’s the baby,” I say, pointing to the little blob. “I’m eight weeks and got to see the heart beating today too.”
Noah takes the pictures from me, bringing it close to his face. His expression is neutral.
“Fuck,” he finally says.
“I agree,” I say with a sigh.
“We had sex six weeks ago, and you’re eight weeks along … Am I missing something?”
“You start out at two weeks. It’s confusing, I know. I’m eight weeks along but the baby is only six weeks old … if that makes sense.”
“It doesn’t.” He hands me the images. “This is ass backwards, but let me take you on a first date?”
My first inclination is to tell him no, that it’s not worth it. Because I don’t have faith in him, that I know better. Because a first date with Noah isn’t going to lead to a second. A first date isn’t going to change him, isn’t going to make him flip a switch and settle down…as much as I wish it could.
But I need to give him a chance—a chance to prove that he isn’t up for this, that he’s not going to stand by me and this child in any way other than helping pay for food and clothing. I need to witness it first hand, hell, maybe even get my heart broken so I can scratch this off forever and move on, raisin
g this child the best that I can.
In the end, that’s all that matters.
And in order to do that, I need to let him take me on that first date.
“Deal,” I say.
“This Friday night?”
“I get off work at seven.”
“So I’ll pick you up at eight?”
“Eight thirty. Give me some time to get ready.”
Noah rests his hand on my thigh. “So this means I can fuck you again, right? It’s not like I can knock you up twice.”
I turn, raising an eyebrow. “It takes at least three dates and some good food to get into my pants.”
“I already proved that wrong. Don’t be a prude.”
I sigh. Yep. This first date is totally going to show me how much Noah isn’t ready to be a father.
Chapter 8
NOAH
I HAVE GOT to clean up my act.
No more drinking. No more getting arrested. And no more one-night stands. Fuck. What am I going to do with my time? And I can drink … just not in excess like I had been. I can do this. For her. For them.
Lauren is having a baby. My baby. I’m going to be a dad.
I’m also going to throw up.
Is this really happening? The ultrasound pictures don’t lie, and neither does Lauren. We are having a baby.
Together.
It would be a damn lie if I said there’s a part of me that isn’t happy about this. Because there is. Knocking Lauren Winters up is the last thing I wanted to do, but knocking her up means I get a chance to make her fall in love with me.
A chance to make her mine.
It’s the chance I never got so many years ago. And now that it’s right in front of me, I’m fucking terrified. Add in the baby and it’s just about enough to make me lose it completely.
I lean back in my leather chair at my desk, unable to concentrate on doing any sort of work. I run my hands over my face and log onto the internet to do some research about babies and pregnancy. Looking up info does nothing to soothe my nerves, but only reminds me of how little I know, and makes me feel guilty for everything Lauren is going through.
I’ve never held a baby. Never changed a diaper or given a bottle. The leather chair crunches under me as I lean back, running my hands over my beard. We’ll figure this out. And maybe, by some extreme miracle, I can pull off this Daddy thing.