15. Harlowe
CHAPTER 15
HARLOWE
I couldn’t believe that I’d agreed to go to Brooks’s house. This place was the scene of the crime. The one that had resulted in this baby I was carrying.
I’d been avoiding him—successfully—since the day we’d made the little nugget and now I was right back here. He hadn’t shown any interest in me, other than the fact that I was pregnant, and I wasn’t sure if that should’ve made me happy or angry.
Wanting Brooks wasn’t something that would ever go away. It’d been easier to deal with because I hadn’t been thinking about it all the time until now. Before, I could easily stay away from him. Then that day had happened and now I was tied to him for the rest of my life.
Yet I couldn’t deny that having someone else there to take care of me when I wasn’t feeling my best would be nice. A couple of more weeks and I’d be out of my first trimester, when the doctor said the morning sickness lessened or went away for most women.
This was one area that I hoped I was average.
Now, maybe the feminist that I claimed to be would be hanging her head in shame at me loving the idea of a man taking care of me, but I didn’t care. After all, this was his kid too and none of the physical uncomfortableness fell on him. I bet his breasts weren’t tender.
Brooks left to get his dinner because the man had to eat. The amount of calories he probably burned on the field every day must’ve been insane. A constant squat alone would have my muscles burning in seconds.
It was dark outside. Given that we were into fall, it’d be getting dark a lot later. Their playoff games would all be in the afternoon, I thought. Not because of the sun, though. They had stadiums with lights and could play any time.
Maybe I was wrong. I didn’t know.
Being in someone else’s house without them was weird to me. Not my parents’ house because I’d grown up there, but in this situation it was like being let into someone’s inner sanctum.
Brooks had gotten me settled in before he’d left and as much as I wanted to look around—not snoop, though maybe a little—I didn’t. I stayed right there on the couch until I heard the door to the garage open and close in the kitchen.
Not long after he’d left, I wished that I hadn’t canceled my order. Suddenly, I was hungry again. This back and forth was going to drive me crazy. After pushing the blanket back across my legs, I hurried to the kitchen, where I knew I’d find him.
“I kind of wish I hadn’t told you I didn’t want anything.” I’d said it before I was even in the kitchen.
But Brooks smiled and said he’d gotten me a cheeseburger and fries like I’d wanted with a side of roasted vegetables because he wanted me to eat as healthy as possible and this was balance. Unhealthy cheeseburger and fries. Healthy vegetables.
Then he slid a vanilla milkshake in front of me and I smiled so widely that I should’ve been embarrassed.
I’d said I hadn’t wanted anything, but he’d gotten me food in case I changed my mind. I explained that this wasn’t cravings. Not yet at least, but I went through mountains and valleys of hunger and could never predict it.
“Come on,” he said, grabbing my containers of food along with his before leading me to the coffee table.
That wasn’t right. He’d been an eat-at-the-table kind of guy as long as I’d known him. Other than when he’d been hurt, I’d only ever seen him have snacks on the couch.
“What’re you doing?” I asked him.
He looked up at me with confusion. “Getting ready to eat.”
“Yeah, but…” I pointed toward the dining table. “Don’t you eat at the table?”
He sighed after setting the food on the coffee table and stood to his full height. “Where do you want to eat?”
“The couch because it’s more comfortable,” I said automatically and honestly, since I lived alone, no one cared where I ate or if I ate.
“That’s why. I knew that and I want you to be comfortable.”
He sat on one end while I slowly walked over and sat on the other, folding my legs under me as I faced him with my heart pumping harder than it needed to.
Why did he know that I preferred to eat on the couch? Hell, why did he know anything about me?
The smell of the burger wafted up to me, making my mouth water. It wasn’t from the place I’d told him to go, but this smelled even better and probably had cost twice as much.
Hey. I was on a budget.
“So,” I started after taking a small bite to confirm that this might’ve been the best burger I’d ever eaten. “You want to talk, not yell, right?”
He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before focusing on me. “I’m not going to yell at you. I’m sorry that I did at all. I’m also sorry that I brushed you off at the field when you came to me.”
“Right.”
"We’re not doing that. So go ahead. Say what you were going to say the day that I was an asshole to you.”
I swallowed hard and looked down at my suddenly even more interesting cheeseburger. “I was coming to tell you that I’m pregnant. It was early. We could have discussed options if you wanted to,” I said. He grunted, but I didn’t know what that meant. “But just to be clear, I never thought about not having this baby. With or without you. I still would’ve had the discussion so that you’d know where I was coming from. Then I figured if you didn’t want to be involved, that’d be fine. I can do it alone.” As I did most things in life. This would be hard but being on my own wouldn’t be new or surprising.
He scowled at me and set his fork down. “You’re not doing it alone. My kid, my responsibility.”
“I don’t want to be someone else’s responsibility.”
“But you’re pregnant with my kid, so you are and you’ll just have to get used to that.”
In my mind, that only made him partly responsible for the kid. Not at all for me. Right now, I wasn’t going to argue it because it wasn’t worth it and he’d driven me to his house, so if I wanted to leave, I’d have to wait for a ride share. Though given how Brooks was, I thought he might drive me home himself if I really wanted to go.
All of this felt so genuine, almost like he cared for me beyond being the future mother of his child, but I couldn’t let those thoughts—hopes—seep in. We had to figure this out as adults who were going to be co-parenting a child together.
“So.” I sighed then took another bite of my burger. The juicy goodness made me close my eyes for a second. Anytime I ate after a tumultuous day, it was the best meal I’d ever had. I supposed that was the upside of morning sickness. When it was over, the food tasted so good. “We have to figure out how all of this is going to work, right?”
“Right.” He popped a bite of steak into his mouth and chewed as he watched me. If he thought I was going to keep asking questions he might only answer one word to… he was right. Waiting for him wasn’t something I wanted to do.
“How long do I have to stay here?” I asked while fighting a laugh. He wasn’t holding me prisoner, but it was a surefire way to get him talking.
He scowled that beautiful face at me. “You’re not a prisoner,” he said. “I can take you home if you want me to. I don’t want you to go, but it’s your choice.”
Now I laughed and nudged him with my foot. “I’m kidding. I know I can leave, but how long do you want me here? I could get too comfortable and stay too long, which might annoy you. I don’t want that. I want us to get along because we’re in this for, what? Eighteen years?” It seemed like a lifetime yet not long enough.
I’d had friends whose parents had divorced and once the kid had been eighteen or graduated from high school, the parents hadn’t spoken anymore. They were divorced. They didn’t see a reason to once their kid was an adult.
I didn’t want that for us, but it was a potential reality that I had to face.
“It’s easier if you’re here or I’m at your place. Easier for me to help, but of course, you stay however long you like. I have the extra rooms.” He sure did. I thought this place had five bedrooms, which was more than he’d needed when he’d bought it.
It had always been a secret thought of mine that he’d bought this house with the idea of having a family one day. That day hadn’t come yet. Not until now and I didn’t think this was what he’d had in mind.
“OK, so how is this going to work you asked, right?” He sat back but kept his gaze on me. “Well, I want to be involved in my kid’s life. Whatever that looks like. Not every-other-weekend bullshit, though I know things will be harder during the season.”
Right—because one hundred and sixty-five games or whatever it was took up a lot of time. I understood that and had already mentally prepared myself for it. The Briggses’ mom used to say that during the season, it was like being a single parent. Their dad had been so focused on the game—though he had retired by the time the younger kids had come around—that she’d had to do everything. Even when he had been there, he hadn’t been there, she’d said.
“I won’t be like my dad,” he said, as if he had been reading my thoughts. “I know that much. Even when he was home, he was working out or planning, or whatever. He wasn’t around much when I was little and when he was, it was just to push me. I won’t do that. I want to see my kid every day if possible. The same way I would if he lived here full-time.”
I raised an eyebrow. “‘He’?”
His grin spread widely, but he bit into his bottom lip. “I don’t care what the baby is, but I’m uncomfortable saying ‘it.’”
Snickering, I nudged him with my foot again. I also didn’t care about the sex of this kid. At least we agreed on something already.
“If I had my way, you’d live here,” he said, making my heart sputter. “I know you won’t do that, but it’d be my preference. I want to be a partner here and it’s a lot harder to do in two households.”
Cocking my head to the side, I narrowed my eyes. “Are you asking me to move in here?”
He snorted. “Not exactly, but I would if I thought you’d say yes . I want to be hands-on with the baby.”
Brooks had one major thing going for him in this situation. It was the fact that he’d defaulted to this baby being with me as the primary parent. I’d heard horror stories of men trying to take their kid from the mom and things like that. Anything to make her life a living hell.
Yet from the sound of all this, he wanted to make my life easier.
Damn my stupid heart for growing to twice its size right now. Everything he was doing was so swoony. I just hoped that the other shoe wouldn’t drop.
“Wouldn’t that be… awkward?” I asked.
“How?”
After letting out a long breath, I pulled my knees to fold my legs in front of me so that I could sit up a little. “‘How’?” I gave him a look that hopefully said he should know this already, but when he didn’t respond, I said, “Think about it, Brooks. You’re dating someone. Bring them home and I’m here with a baby who belongs to you. Yet I don’t leave like the babysitter? You don’t think that’d be uncomfortable?”
“For who?”
“For the woman you’re bringing home.” And me —though I’d leave that part out. I definitely couldn’t watch Brooks with other women—long-term or short. It’d gut me each and every day.
“I wouldn’t do that,” he countered, but did that mean he wouldn’t bring women home or he wouldn’t be with women?
It was torture to think about.
“OK, so we’re going to both be present parents,” I said, deciding to change the subject. “That’s good. We can figure out living situations and how all of that is going to work. We’ve got time.”
“And money,” he added, making me furrow my brows. “Support of this kid isn’t all on you, Harlowe. I have plenty, so this kid will have plenty.” He held up a hand to stop me from protesting. “And yes, you will have plenty. I’m not going to have my kid living in the lap of luxury while you’re saving up to buy a necessity. I’m not doing that and you’re going to have to get used to it.”
While I didn’t want to be a kept woman, I understood where he was coming from. Money was something we could argue about later, though it was good to have the reassurance of him wanting to provide for his baby.
“I have plans, too, you know,” I told him instead. Right now, I did save and go without certain things because I had a goal I was trying to meet.
“I assumed you did.” He turned toward me so that his arm was resting on the back of the couch and one leg was folded across the cushion. “What are your plans? This baby thing must be throwing a wrench in them.”
After swallowing hard, I admitted something to him that I hadn’t yet said out loud. “It really is. I feel selfish saying that, but yeah. This wasn’t exactly the prime time to get knocked up.”
“Well, what’s it throwing a wrench into and how can I help?”
Shaking my head, I moved to the end of the couch, away from the comfortable, little spot I’d created for myself. There wasn’t anything he could do about it because the dream was already slipping through my fingers in ways that had nothing to do with the baby.
“You can’t help,” I told him, fighting back tears of anger at my parents. “I wasn’t given parents who would ever put me first.”
His brows furrowed then realization spread over his face. “The restaurant?”
Nodding, I looked away from him because the kindness I was finding, which wasn’t what I’d been expecting, was making it hard to keep the tears at bay. “I wanted to buy it. I’ve been saving since I started working there, but their appraisal is insane. Fair, but not something I could ever do, which means they’re selling.”
His jaw tensed and his nostrils flared quickly before he slipped the mask on to hide his anger. “I don’t get it. They won’t give you a break?”
I snorted. “You must not know my parents,” I mumbled. “No. They won’t give me a break of any kind. They want what they see they’re owed for the place and that’s it. Nothing else will do. They want to live a nomad life of traveling and that’s how they get it. I’m just out of time and yeah, the baby does throw a wrench in that because clearly, some of what I saved will go to this. Having kids is expensive.”
“I already told you. You don’t have to worry about money.”
I groaned and waved my hands through the air then sat back into the same position I’d been in. “I don’t even want to talk about that right now. I’m still too angry. I think we should discuss the biggest problem in all this.”
He smiled and I hoped there’d be a day that I’d see him do that—and not want to leap into his lap.
Having an unexpected baby was hard enough, but having one with someone you’d been in love with since you’d been a teenager was worse. This was me hurting my own feelings by getting pregnant and forever being linked to him.
When he found someone he wanted to marry… I didn’t know how I’d be able to handle that.
“What’s that?” he finally asked.
“Camden,” I said quietly.
“She’ll be fine.”
“She won’t, Brooks. You don’t understand because you weren’t in high school with us, but it even started before then. So many people used her to try to get close to you guys or even your dad.” I took what I’d hope would be a calming breath. “One of the reasons we’ve been able to stay friends is I didn’t want anything to do with any of you.”
“Well, maybe she shouldn’t have asked you to babysit me.”
An unexpected laugh bubbled up when I’d thought there was only anxiety and trepidation. “That’s not funny.”
He shrugged. “I get what you’re saying, Harlowe, but she’s going to have to figure it out. None of this”—he waved a finger between the two of us—“is going to change. It can’t. It’s not about just us anymore, but she’ll get over it.”
I wasn’t so sure and losing my best friend after I’d lost my dream of owning the restaurant wasn’t something I could handle right now.
Not with all these pregnancy hormones racing through me and driving me crazy.