Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
KENNEDY
“How many guys have you slept with?” he surprises me by asking as we lie in his bed during our post-coital bliss.
I couldn’t move if I wanted to. The man fucked me into a near coma. After the bathroom smackdown, we got into bed and did it all over again.
Every inch of me is sore. My throat, shoulders, and breasts are all marked up from his mouth.
I’m going to be applying cover-up to my body for weeks when I play ball.
That’s if I can walk. But I wouldn’t change it for anything in the world.
That sex was everything I needed and then some.
The mind-blowing chemistry we share is undeniable.
I condescendingly pat his chest. “Just you,” I answer. “The rest didn’t let me sleep.”
He chuckles. “Really. Tell me. I won’t judge.”
“Umm, you will most definitely judge, because it’s a lot, but I don’t know the precise answer. Do you know your body count?” I challenge, knowing there’s no way he has the answer.
He shakes his head. “I have no idea.”
“Right. We’re both whores. Let’s leave it at that.”
He turns his head on his pillow and looks at me. “I prefer to think of us as experts in the field. It sounds better.”
I nod. “Well said. I think you might get smarter after you come.”
“It’s called post-nut clarity,” he informs me. “All men are smarter after they come.”
I twist my lips at his fun pillow talk. “I can see that. Unfortunately for me, my mind is most active right when I want to fall asleep. It’s extremely inconvenient.”
He smiles. “I love when you tell me what keeps you up at night. It’s always amusing. What’s keeping you up lately?”
I think for a moment, wanting to keep it playful, not quite ready to get into the heavy. “Last night I was thinking about The Cosby Show.”
“The eighties television show?” he asks in obvious surprise.
I nod. “Yes. I used to watch it on Nick at Nite all the time when I was a kid.”
“I did too,” he admits. “Why were you thinking about it?”
“The mom’s name was Clair Huxtable,” I state, “the dad’s name was Cliff Huxtable, and the show followed them and their Huxtable children.”
“And?”
“Why was it called The Cosby Show? Yes, it was the main actor’s real name, but no one on the show was named Cosby. Why wasn’t it called The Huxtable Show?”
His loud, booming laugh threatens to shake the house off its foundation. I used to hate that laugh. Now I miss it when I don’t hear it for a while. I’ve missed it terribly this past month.
“Holy shit. You’re right. I never thought of it.”
I smile. “This is the random crap that goes through my mind at night and keeps me awake.”
I start to crawl over him to his other side. “Switch sides with me,” I instruct.
He shoves me back down. “No way. This is my side. All my stuff is on the night table.”
“I don’t want to lie in the wet spot. It’s your fault you made me do that. You lie in it.”
He chuckles. “I’ll do my best not to make you come so hard next time.” He pulls my body until we’re both snuggled closely on his side of the bed. “Better?”
“I suppose.”
He’s now lying on his side, facing me in all his naked glory while leaning on his elbow. I turn to him as well, with our faces only inches apart. He runs his fingertips back and forth over my bare hip. “This is my favorite part of a woman’s body. It’s so uniquely feminine.”
“Not my tits?” I half joke. He’s obsessed with my tits. He’s always staring at them and, when we have sex, his mouth or hands are always on them.
“That’s my favorite part of your body,” he answers, “because they’re complete and total perfection. In fact, they felt fuller today. Is that part of a woman’s cycle?”
If it’s the cycle of being pregnant, then yes, I think to myself.
I swallow hard. It’s time. This is my opening.
I take his hand in mine, threading my fingers through his. “I did come here for something…other than the orgasms. Thanks for those, by the way.”
He wiggles his eyebrows up and down. “Back at you.”
I exhale a long breath. “I got sidetracked by the sex, but I do want to talk.”
He nods. “Me too. I’ve hated the past month. I don’t want it to be like that betw—”
“I’m pregnant,” I blurt out because there’s just no easy way to drop this kind of bomb.
He blinks in rapid succession over and over but otherwise remains wordless.
“I’m sorry to just say it like that,” I continue. “I had a whole speech planned, but I forgot it. Anyway, I’m pregnant. I only just realized it today. I know you didn’t come inside me before tonight, but I guess they’re right in health class about precum possibly causing pregnancy. Whoda thunk it?”
Oh Christ. Discussing precum and health class were not in my planned speech.
“I…I…I.” I keep stuttering like an imbecile. Shit, Kennedy, get it together. “I don’t expect anything, but I feel strongly that you have every right to know. I hate when women keep it a secret as if it’s not also the man’s child just because he isn’t carrying it.”
Silence. More blinking by him. Maybe he’s having a stroke. Should I call an ambulance?
“Do you have any questions? I’m not sure I’ll have answers, but I’ll try my best.”
He continues blinking but doesn’t otherwise move.
“Please say something. I was flipping my shit the whole way over here. If you hate me and want me to leave, I will, but I need you to emote in some way.”
In light of him not moving, I start to get up, planning to get dressed to leave, but before I can do so, he grabs my arm and says, “Beau. Fucking. Fudd.”
I shake my head. “No, it’s not Beau’s. It’s yours. I know that for sure. I haven’t been with anyone else since last year. I was a little trigger-shy about being intimate with anyone after New Year’s Eve.”
He shakes his head. “Boner Shake. We’re having a child conceived via Boner Shake.”
I bite back my smile. “I suppose that’s accurate. Perfect, let’s blame Beau.”
He looks at my stomach as if it shows anything, which it doesn’t, and then his eyes widen in what appears to be…delight. “Our kid is going to be the greatest athlete of all time,” he proudly and loudly announces.
I stare at him, dumbfounded. “That’s the first thing to come to your mind when I tell you, my forced husband, that I’m pregnant? That the kid will be a great athlete?”
“Not a great athlete,” he corrects. “The greatest athlete of all time. Think about her genes. Yours and mine together. She’ll be a prodigy. She’ll have the height, the coordination, everything.”
“It could be a boy,” I remind him.
This conversation is not going how I thought it would go. Not at all.
He shakes his head. “No way. It’s a girl. I’m already a #GirlDad. I have a #GirlDad hat that BJ gave me for Christmas last year.”
“BJ gave you a hat?”
He nods. “Yes.”
“Did she order it herself?”
He nods again. “Yes. She’s very smart.” His eyes widen again. “Holy crap, our kid will be smart too. You’re super smart.”
Maybe he really is having a stroke.
“Can we take a step back here?” I suggest. “I’m not sure you’re processing this information properly. Maybe you’re in shock.”
He shakes his head, and then BJ lets out a bark before climbing onto the bed, collapsing next to me, and resting her head on my stomach.
He gasps. “BJ knew. That’s why she didn’t attack you. That’s why her paw was lying protectively over your stomach. She knew her little sister was in there. It all makes perfect sense now.”
Yep, the guy has officially lost the plot.
I study his face carefully. “Do you have any questions?”
“When are you due?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. My best guess would be nine months from Boner Shake day?”
“What did the doctor say?”
“I haven’t seen a doctor yet,” I inform him. “I realized I was pregnant two hours ago.”
“And then you took a pregnancy test?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I came straight here when I realized it. I…I…” Tears well in my eyes. “I didn’t want to deprive you of anything…if you want to be a part of it.”
His face falls, and he pulls me close to him. “Why are you crying?”
I wipe the tears. “I’m not.”
“You are. You’re not happy about this?” he asks with worry written all over his face.
“I don’t know how I feel,” I answer honestly. “I haven’t had time to consider it. Frankly, I was more worried about you. I realized I was pregnant and came straight here. I didn’t think you’d be so damn happy. I thought you were going to hate me, and I wanted to rip off the Band-Aid.”
His brows crease together. “Why would I hate you?”
I point to my stomach. “Duh?”
“It’s not like you did it on purpose. You’re the one who stopped things that day. I was the irresponsible one, not you. You should hate me.” He gasps. “Wait, do you hate me?”
What in the fuck is happening here? This is the weirdest conversation to ever take place.
I stare at him and shake my head. “No, Daylen, I don’t hate you for getting me pregnant. We both did this…and Beau Fudd.”
His shoulders relax. “Phew.” He sits up suddenly and gasps again. “We need to get you a pregnancy test. I don’t want to get all excited only to have my heart broken.”
“Excited? You’re excited about this?”
“Hell yes. I can’t wait to be a dad. I had the best dad ever. Oh my god, he’s gonna flip his lid about being a grandpa. I need to call him right away.”
I grab his arm. “Daylen, I don’t want anyone to know yet.”
He shakes his head. “I can’t keep secrets from him or Vance. I won’t last. He and Vance are my best friends.” A dreamy look takes form on his face. “I hope I’m as good a dad as mine is.”
I plop my head back down on the pillow. “I had the worst mom. All I hope is that I’ll be nothing like her.
” Realization finally starts to settle in, and I begin to freak out.
“Oh god, I can’t do this. I don’t know how to be a mother.
I’m not like you and your dad. I had no one to show me how to act. ”
He wipes the tears beginning to form under my eyes. “You’re going to be a great mom,” he confidently assures me.
I shake my head, no longer able to control the tears from spilling from my eyes. “I can’t do this,” I sob.