Chapter 23 Everett
EVERETT
It’s not a date. I’ve never been on a single date in my life.
Okay, that’s a lie. There was this one time in middle school when I invited a girl to get ice cream after class. She even let me kiss her. That was…a really fucking long time ago.
It wasn’t too long after that that I discovered just how much fun girls could be, and I didn’t even need to buy them ice cream.
I shake my head as I follow Bea out of the salon with my hand pressed against the small of her back.
What I said about the online version of me is true. The issue is that I’m not sure the version of me that hides in the shadows is any better. That’s the one Bea wants to get to know. But I fear both her and our unborn child might be better off not knowing.
“Wow,” Bea muses as I direct her to my truck. “You know what they say about men who drive cars this big, right?”
“I do. Lucky for you, you’re already acutely aware that that isn’t true.”
“I was pretty drunk that night,” she mutters as I pull the door open and wait for her to get in.
“I wouldn’t have fucked you if you were wasted,” I state confidently. Many out there might think I’ll fuck anything with a pulse, but that isn’t true. I choose my companions wisely, and they’re always aware of what they’re doing.
“Do you have a step ladder for this thing or what?” she asks, looking up into the cab as if she’s got to climb a mountain.
I chuckle as I wrap my hands around her waist and lift her. Her squeal of shock rips through the air as her feet leave the floor.
“Don’t act like you don’t like it when I sweep you off your feet,” I tease.
“I think it’s safer for both of us if my feet stay firmly on the ground,” she states once she’s inside.
“Why? You’re already pregnant; what else is going to happen?”
“I’d rather not know,” she mutters a beat before I swing the door closed and walk around the front of my truck.
She watches me silently as I pull out of the space and merge into the traffic.
“What’s wrong? Do I need a facial?” I ask.
“Yeah, your pores are clogged, and your complexion is a little dull,” she deadpans.
“Wow,” I laugh.
“What? You asked.”
“I wasn’t expecting the brutal honesty, though.”
“Then don’t ask an emotional, hungry pregnant woman for her honest opinion.”
“I don’t remember asking for honest,” I point out.
“Ah, it must be a shock not to hear just how incredible you are every five seconds.”
“I mean, I’ll take a compliment if you’ve got any.”
She thinks for a moment. “I’m impressed you turned up at the salon. How’s that?”
“I’m sorry it took so long. I should have turned up sooner,” I confess.
“Better late than never, I guess.”
Silence falls between us. It’s weird. It’s not uncomfortable, but it’s not entirely relaxing either. There are so many things that are going unsaid between us, so many questions we both need to ask, but neither of us is brave enough to voice them.
I hit play on the screen and let music fill the void as I head toward my favorite Mexican restaurant. It’s not the fanciest place in town, nor is it the most expensive, but I don’t think Bea cares about that.
“This is cute,” she says as I pull into the parking lot.
“The food is insane. You’re going to love it,” I explain as I climb out before marching around to help her down.
Bea hesitates when I hold my hand out for her. Her need for independence oozes from her, but as much as she might want to demand I leave her to it, she bites it back and slips her palm against mine, allowing me to help her.
“Thank you,” she whispers as her feet touch the ground.
“You’re welcome,” I say, keeping her hand in mine a little longer than necessary. The sweet scent of her perfume floods my senses. “I thought you were taking me for dinner?” she teases when I don’t move.
“Y-yeah,” I stutter, finally taking a step back and closing her door.
“Oh my god, that smells amazing,” she says as we step into the restaurant.
When I was a kid, this was always my top choice to eat. I wanted every birthday meal here.
“Mr. Donnelly,” Diego says the second he sees me.
“Hey, man. How’s it going?”
Diego is the owner’s son. He’s only a few years older than me.
I remember him helping out when we were both kids.
He’s taken over from his parents now, although his mom refuses to let go and works just as many hours as ever in the kitchen, from what I can figure.
It was the first place I came to eat after moving back here. It was like returning home.
“It’s great. Business is good.”
“Glad to hear it. Any chance you could find us a table for two?”
Diego’s eyes immediately shift to the woman beside me.
“A table for two?” he mutters to himself in surprise. “Who’d have thought it?”
“Hey, I’ve been here with others before,” I argue, my cheeks heating with Bea’s attention.
“Your little sister doesn’t count,” Diego points out, making her laugh.
“Dude,” I complain. “I thought you had my back.”
He chuckles as he leads me to my usual booth at the rear of the restaurant.
I take the side that puts my back to the rest of his customers in the hope that no one will notice me and gesture for Bea to sit opposite.
“Can I get you started with drinks?”
Bea reaches for the menu before letting out a heavy sigh when her eyes land on the margarita options.
“Beer?” Diego asks, aware of my usual order.
“Uh…no. No, I think I’ll just get a water tonight.” His eyes widen, but he doesn’t comment as he turns to focus on Bea.
“Can I have a virgin margarita?”
“You got it. Coming right up,” he says before spinning on his heels and marching toward the bar.
"You could have had a beer,” Bea says after a few seconds.
“You can’t drink,” I state.
“Right. That’s me. Not you.”
I drop my eyes to the menu. I haven’t needed to look at it for years, but it’s the perfect distraction as I mumble, “We’re doing this together. If you can’t drink, then neither will I.”
She stares at me, her mouth opening and closing, but no words come out.
“What?” I ask. “I’m not actually an asshole.”
She shakes her head. “I never said you were.”
“Really? I’m pretty sure you have at some point.”
Her smile starts slow, but it quickly grows.
Damn, she’s pretty. When she smiles, it makes her eyes twinkle with happiness. It’s the kind I always strive to feel but can never quite reach.
I mean, maybe I would have felt it if I didn’t fuck up our final game. Maybe if I’d had a chance to lift that cup …
“Yeah, you’re probably right. I’m guessing it won’t be the last time either.”
“Whoa.”
She laughs. The sound is so light it makes my shoulders relax.
There is something about being in her company that just makes me feel better.
“Tell me I’m wrong,” she demands.
“I might be an asshole, but I’m not stupid. You’re right.”
“Of course, I’m always right.”
Our drinks arrive a few seconds later, and when Diego asks Bea what she’d like to eat, I realize that I haven’t given her a chance to even glance at the menu.
“Uh…” She hesitates, quickly scanning the page in front of her. But no sooner has she started than she stops and looks up at me. “What should I order?”
“Whatever you want. It’s all amazing.”
She nods, but she doesn’t look back down.
“You choose,” she says, pushing the menu away. “I trust you.”
Her words hit me like a puck to the chest.
She…trusts me?
Why?
This is the third time I’ve met her, and all I’ve done so far is fuck up her life and disappoint her.
“Are you sure?” I ask. I know it’s only food, but it feels like a big deal.
“I wouldn’t say it if I weren’t.”
I nod before drumming my fingers against the tabletop and rattling off an order that is way too much for the two of us, but I can’t help it. My need to please her is too strong.
Diego takes it all in his stride, although I don’t miss the couple of side glances he shoots my way.
Yeah, I get it. I don’t bring women here. Hell, I don’t bring women anywhere other than a hotel room. I’m more than aware that this is way, way out of my comfort zone. But as weird as it is, sitting across from Bea feels…right.
She’s barely more than a stranger despite the fact that she literally has some of my DNA inside her, but I’m more relaxed right now than I have been in quite some time.
“So…” I start once we’re alone again. “How are you feeling?”
“Um…yeah. Fine. Tired, but fine.”
“Have you had any morning sickness yet? I read online that it can start from as early as four weeks, but it’s more common a little later.”
“I’m okay.”
I want to accept her words, but the dark shadows around her eyes and the lack of color in her cheeks stops me.
“Are you sure? No nausea or anything?”
“Do you really want to know?” she asks.
“Yeah, of course. I mean, if you’re happy to tell me.”
She nods. “I’m a little nauseous in the mornings, but once I’ve eaten it’s not too bad.”
“And everything else is okay? Blood pressure stable?”
“Yeah, as far as I know.”
“Good. As far as I’m aware, there isn’t anything in my family’s medical history that you need to know. Of course, to be totally sure, I’d need to speak to my mom, but I haven’t said anything yet. Have you told your parents yet?”
“No,” she says. “Right now, only you, Sienna, and Hailee know.”
“And Casey and Freya,” I add.
“Casey and—” She gasps as she remembers. “Oh shit. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know who they were and I was freaking out and—”
I reach across the table and take her hand in mine.
Her word vomit immediately stops.
“It’s okay,” I say, squeezing her hand. “I’m glad they know.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I mean, I didn’t feel that way when they turned up at my door and refused to leave until they forced me to talk about it. But I felt better after.”
“Are you sure you’re really okay with doing this?”
“It’s a bit late now, isn’t it? The deed has been done.”
“Yeah, I know. I just…I guess I wasn’t really expecting you to want to be involved.”
“I’ve fucked up a lot in my life,” I say with my eyes locked on the table, the weight of those words pressing down on my shoulders. I take a deep breath and look up again, my eyes locking with Bea’s light ones. “But I don’t want to with this. I want to be worthy. I want to be a good father.”