7. Logan
Present
I’d never been opposed to becoming a mother. I loved kids, so much so that I became an elementary school teacher.
But I wanted everything checked off my list first. I worked with lists; they helped me organize my life and accomplish my goals.
Find love.
Get married.
Buy a house, preferably on the water, with lots of land for all the kids and dogs I want.
Rescue a dog.
Fall pregnant with the man of my dreams.
Raise a beautiful family.
That had been my list, and so far, I’d achieved none of it, and there was now a baby growing inside of me. At first, I thought I was going to find love in Richard, but I’d been digging for too long and came up empty-handed and more disappointed than anything else.
He’d never laid a hand on me, not like the struggles Scarlett had when we were in high school. Most times, he was too weak to kill a bug. But on the flip side, he’d hurt me in many other ways.
I was never good enough.
I didn’t look like the other girls, the blondes he seemed to chase after with boobs the size of my head. I worked during the day, which meant early mornings, and he hated being woken when he didn’t have practice.
Not to mention, we hadn’t had sex since New Year’s Eve. He often claimed I was the problem. When, in reality, he wasn’t good enough for me.
And because I wasted my time with him, hoping to find my soulmate in a man that was so far from perfect, I was now far from my ten-year plan.
The afternoon bell rang, signaling the end of recess, and my class of fifteen five-year-olds came bounding in, cheeks flushed, hair matted, and eyes wide with excitement. My assistant teacher, Stella, came in after them, her skin glowing from the afternoon sun.
“Alright, everyone. Grab some water and take a seat.” I stood, getting their attention. They all slowed to a walk and found their desks.
I’m going to miss this.
Stella turned the lights off, and the kids put their heads to their desks for a quiet moment as I talked about our next project. I got a few excited giggles when I mentioned the stuffed dog they would be taking home and introducing to their families.
I explained the rules—why they had to take pictures with the stuffed dog and how each person would then make a presentation. The most creative student would win based on the class vote.
Stella flipped the lights back on, and they all looked at me expectantly. I showed them a few examples from last year and then showed them Fluffy, the stuffed dog.
We had an hour left of the day, and Stella announced story time, leading the kids to the bright-blue circle mat, where they rushed to find a colored square to sit on.
While she was reading to them, I worked on my email of resignation to the principal. Scarlett suggested a few days ago that I go and find Jaxon and give him the choice of raising this child with me.
I’d laughed at her, but after doing some thinking, I realized it wasn’t the worst idea.
Not all men were pigs.
My dad hadn’t been, so there was hope for Jaxon. From the little I could remember about that night, he had been kind.
Kind men wanted to raise kids, right?
“Miss Shaw, when do we find out who takes Fluffy home first?” Brett, one of my star students, stood at the edge of my desk, pushing his black glasses up his nose. His blue eyes were big as they peered up at me through the magnifying glass.
“Well, Miss Stella will put all your names in the hat over there,” I point toward the fake magician”s hat I had, “and we’ll pull one out tomorrow.” He nodded, buzzing with excitement.
This was the part I was going to miss. This was my favorite age—when they started to spell and read, when they were the most impressionable.
“I can’t wait to tell my mommy all about it,” he said, walking away.
I got them all lined up at their cubbies. They slung their small backpacks on and were quietly murmuring to each other about the project. When the bell rang, they ran outside to join the car line, and I followed.
For the next hour, I helped them get into their cars and then walked the stragglers to aftercare before returning to my classroom, where I finished off my email, requesting a meeting to speak about my resignation.
At Scarlett’s place, she was curled up on the couch, watching some romcom, her laughter infectious as I walked in. Matt was thankfully at work, giving us some alone time.
“Hey, how were the brats?” She paused the movie as I sat beside her on the sofa.
Shaking my head, I sighed at her dislike for kids. She had never been interested in having her own. “They aren’t brats, Scar, and they were great. I’m going to miss them and teaching and just my whole life.” An unexpected sob burst from my chest.
“Jeez, those pamphlets weren’t kidding! You are sensitive.” She fished a tissue out of her bra and hands it to me.
“And you’re a bitch. I didn’t need to read anything to know that,” I cried, blowing my nose into the tissue.
“Ouch, but I won’t take it to heart. Who said you have to quit your job and change your whole life? All I suggested was letting Mr. Sexy Ass know about his child growing in there.” She patted my small bump.
“And what if he wants me to be a full-time mother? What if I want to be a full-time mom? What if he tells me to leave? Then, I’ll have to work. Shit, I didn’t think, and I already emailed my resignation!” I cried. Bringing my knees up to my chest, I wrapped my arms around them.
“Hun, you need to calm down, or you’ll have an anxiety attack, which won’t be good for your baby. Stop worrying. Remember how your mom said we were on a path?” I hated when she brought up my mom because every damn time, she was right.
I nodded, not wanting to look up at her.
“She swore we were all on a path, one chosen for us. And everything that happened along our path was part of our journey, and it was meant to happen. That sexy man was put in your path for a reason, Logan, and so is that baby. Now, stop crying, grab some of the pizza I’ve got in the kitchen, and come watch a movie with me. Soon, we won’t be able to do this, and I’m going to miss my best friend.” Lifting my head up to look at her, I saw emotion swirling around her eyes.
“Why won’t we be able to do this?”
“Because you, my beautiful friend, are going to fall hopelessly in love with that man, and he is going to sweep you off your feet the way you were always meant to be. He’s going to take you away from here, away from me, but that’s okay.”
Following her instructions, I grabbed a slice of the greasy, cheese pizza and snuggled up with her on the couch, mulling over her words.
Falling in love with a hotshot baseball player? Unlikely. Impossible? No.
* * *
When the weekendfinally rolled around, I spent my entire Saturday morning researching Jaxon Dexter, and from a quick Google search, I found out a lot about his older brothers but little about him.
Finally, after paying some online sight to do a background check for twenty dollars, I found his address, and surprisingly, he wasn’t far from me. He was just an hour away, living in the city near the Atlanta Braves’ arena.
Dressing in a loose shirt and leggings, I pulled my long hair back into a ponytail and applied some makeup before leaving Scarlett’s apartment with his address in my GPS.
Walking into the posh apartment building, I passed by the lobby security and entered the glass elevator. Pressing the button for the top floor, I prayed the website had been right, and he was living up in the penthouse.
As I ascended the tall building, I rehearsed for the hundredth time what I was going to say to him if he opened the door.
“Hi, remember me, the girl you slept with three months ago? We met in a bar.” No. I shook my head at my reflection and cringed.
This is going to be a disaster.
The elevator dinged, and the doors flew open. Slowly stepping out, I admired the decorations and stared at the single door at the end of the short hall.
Pacing the small space, I tried to come up with something better to say. Resting my hands on my belly, I came up blank.
“What would you say, little one?”
No answer, not that I really expected one.
Taking a deep breath, I used all the confidence I had and marched up to the door, raised my fist, and knocked loudly. Here went nothing.
The door swung open, and Jaxon Dexter stood there, shirtless, wearing the gray sweatpants every woman fantasized about, the phone to his ear.
I was frozen, my hand still raised to knock on the door, jaw slack as I ran my eyes over him again.
I didn’t remember his eyes being so dark, yet having tiny flecks of green in them. There was a light dusting of hair on his chest, and his physique was still the lean one I remembered from that night. All I remembered was having the time of my life and wanting to repeat it for the rest of my life.
“Luke, I’m goin’ to need to call you back.” He hung up without letting Luke answer and dropped his hands to his sides.
I opened my mouth and closed it twice before remembering I had to speak.
“Remember me?” I finally said and waved before dropping my hand and closing my eyes. “Of course, you don’t. I mean, why would you? You’re Jaxon freaking Dexter, and I’m just me,” I rambled, completely and utterly embarrassed, yet unable to stop opening my mouth.
“I remember you, Logan. It’s impossible to forget someone as beautiful as you.” Flushing, I looked at him. He held the door open a little more. “Are you goin’ to come in, sweetheart?”
He remembers me.