Chapter 26 Beatrice
BEATRICE
Unable to ignore my alarm any longer, I roll to the edge of the bed and force myself to my feet.
My entire body protests at the movement.
I’ve barely slept. The music from my neighbors boomed long into the night.
I put earplugs in, but it didn’t help. I’m pretty sure it was vibrating through the walls.
I shuffle through to the bathroom and put the light on. I wince, my eyes slits as I fight to adjust.
“Fucking hell,” I groan as I lower my ass to the toilet.
I’ve got a full day of clients who will be expecting me to be awake and chirpy.
I need to get it together.
I need…coffee. Real coffee.
A pathetic sob rips from my throat as I mourn the fact that I’m destined to live on decaf for the next few months.
I move in slow motion as I get ready for work.
I don’t have the energy to do anything with my hair, so it’s pulled up into a messy bun, which I hope my clients see as a style choice, not pure desperation.
The only thing I spend any real time on is my makeup, because that is the only thing that could save my day.
The last thing I need is everyone looking at me with sympathy.
Questions will follow, and I’m not ready to give any answers yet.
I need to. I can already feel my body changing, and it’s only going to become more obvious.
My bras are barely coping, and my tunics are tighter than they’ve ever been. The only thing I’m safe with are my leggings. Those things are my best friends.
I need to go shopping, but that means spending money, and that isn’t a priority right now. I need to save if I’m going to provide a home where my baby can sleep.
I glare at my glass of OJ as I pour it, irritated with it for being so healthy and caffeine-free. I want to do all the right things and ensure I’m giving my baby the best start. But it’s hard. Really fucking hard.
Emotion clogs my throat and tears burn my eyes.
I hate being so emotional when I’m usually pretty stable. But I can’t stop it.
I’m annoying myself, and we’re only a few weeks in.
“I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” I whisper, my hand on my stomach. “I promise to do my best to sort myself out by the time you get here.”
I catch the sob that wants to follow that promise. As much as I might say the words, I don’t believe them. I can’t see a way out of this right now.
Forcing my thoughts from my head, I take my prenatal vitamins before throwing some snacks into my purse. I slip my shoes on, another thing I need to replace. My feet throb just like when I took them off last night.
I sink my hand in my tunic pocket for my cell to call a ride, but it’s empty.
“Fucking hell,” I groan before marching back to my bedroom.
I find it in the middle of my bed, where I threw it after finally cancelling my alarm.
“Right. Car. I need a c—” I mutter to myself, but my words dry up when I see the message waiting for me.
Baby Daddy: Good morning. I figured you needed a ride to work. I’m outside.
My heart sinks into my feet as my eyes lift to the small window that looks out at the brick wall of the building next door.
It’s pointless, though. Even if I could see outside, I wouldn’t see Everett. He’s not here. He’s outside the building I told him I lived in.
The second I walked away from him last night, and he stayed to ensure I got inside safely, I knew I’d fucked up. But it was too late to go back on it. The lie was out.
I didn’t think I was going to pull it off, but when I looked over my shoulder and found him looking down at his cell, I bolted around the corner and hid until I was confident that he’d driven away.
Not my finest moment.
I then called a rideshare and got myself home.
What I should have done was get my car so I could have driven to work today, but that would have involved me concentrating long enough to drive, and I had zero confidence I’d have been able to do that. So I went home and, well…didn’t get any rest.
My heart begins to race, and my hands shake.
What the hell am I meant to do now?
Do I ignore him, get a ride to work, and pretend I didn’t see?
My stomach twists. No, I can’t do that.
If this were days after our hospital visit, then maybe I could have. He was a jerk that day, and he deserved to be left waiting outside a building I no longer live in.
But he was different last night. He’d lost the attitude he’d turned up with at the hospital. He was more…vulnerable, I guess. More himself.
He was open and honest, and he allowed me to see just a little bit of the man he really is, not the player he allows the world to see.
I can’t leave the Everett from last night sitting and waiting for nothing.
“Goddamn it.”
My thumb hovers over the call button, and I close my eyes before I tap it and lift my cell to my ear.
The dialing tone hits me like a ton of bricks, and I take a step back as my nerves continue to build.
“Hello?” His deep rasp flows through me, instantly putting me a little more at ease.
“Um…hi …”
“Is everything okay?” he asks, apparently able to tell in just those two words that it’s not.
“I…um…shit.”
“Bea?”
“I’m so sorry. I lied to you last night,” I blurt so fast, it’s barely understandable.
“O-okay…”
I take another step back and bump against the wall.
Closing my eyes, I tip my face to the ceiling and start my confession.
“I…um…I don’t actually live in the building you dropped me off at. I—”
“But you went in. I watched you,” he argues, cutting me off.
“No, you looked at your cell and I…I ran around the corner.”
Silence fills the line.
“I did live there. I only just moved out.”
“So why did you make me go there?”
“Look…” A single tear spills free, trickling down my cheek. “Things haven’t been going my way recently, and I needed to…downsize for a bit.”
“Okay, so where are you now?”
“You’re not going to want to drive that truck here.”
“Bea,” he warns.
“It’s only temporary. I just need to get my finances sorted, and then I’ll get a better place. I’m not going to bring our baby up here, it’s not—”
“Where the fuck are you?” His voice is shorter this time, angrier, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hit me in a particular kind of way.
With little choice, I pull my cell from my ear, find our message thread, and send him my new address.
Shame burns through me as I see it delivered and then read.
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
“It’s at least a thirty-minute dri—”
“I’ll be there in twenty,” he repeats as the rumble of his giant engine fills the line.
My lips part to speak, but I quickly discover that he’s hung up on me.
“The fuck?” I mutter, staring at my cell in disbelief.
I check the clock, and despite my tender feet, I begin pacing. I can’t go very far; my new apartment is barely bigger than a shoebox, but I can’t stay still.
Each minute feels like an hour, but when fifteen of them pass, I dart toward my front door.
There is no way I’m risking him being early and wanting to come up here.
After double-checking I’ve locked my front door, I dart down the hallway and run down the dark, dirty stairwell without looking back. There is no one there; it’s empty and silent, but it doesn’t stop me from running like my life depends on it.
I don’t suck in a breath until I’ve burst through the main entrance and into the fresh air.
The sun warms my skin, and I take a few seconds to embrace it. It’s early, but it’s still incredibly hot. But then, I already knew that, because not only is my apartment noisy, but the air conditioning is also broken.
I check my cell. Seventeen minutes.
Glancing around, I find an empty bench, and I make my way over.
But I don’t even get a chance to sit down, because the familiar rumble of an engine hits my ears, and when I look over, Everett’s blue truck is pulling toward me.
My stomach turns over as I lift my hand and give him a little wave.
What the fuck are you doing, Beatrice?
I’m the only person out here, and from the way my skin is tingling, I’d say he’s glaring right at me.
I make my way over, trying to prepare myself for hauling my tired ass up into his cab, but just before I get to the hood, his door opens and he hops out.
His eyes drill into mine, but he doesn’t say a word as he pulls the passenger door open and helps me up.
It’s stupid, but when he doesn’t grab my ass like he did last night, a little disappointment rolls through me.
Once I’m in, he closes the door behind me before marching back around the hood.
He’s still silent as he pulls out of the space and makes his way back to the road.
“There’s a coffee there for you. It’s probably cold by now, seeing as I bought it at the coffee shop by where I thought you lived.”
Regret floods through my veins.
“Thank you, b-but I can’t drink co—”
“It’s decaf.”
A weird laugh-sob noise erupts as I reach for it.
“Thank you, that was incredibly thoughtful.”
“Mmm,” he mumbles.
I take a sip. It doesn’t matter that it’s lukewarm or that there is no caffeine; it still tastes incredibly good.
“I’m sorry for lying to you.”
“Why did you?” he asks coolly.
I glance over, hating how tightly he’s gripping the wheel, and when I get to his profile, I find a tic in his jaw that wasn’t there last night.
“Shame,” I confess. “I don’t want you to think less of me.”
“And you think lying is the way to go about that?”
“I panicked,” I explain. “This…” I wave my arm out, gesturing to the building we’re driving away from. “I hate that I’ve made a stupid decision that has put me here. I’m embarrassed, and I’m ashamed. But it was either give up my apartment or lose my salon, and that wasn’t happening, so—”
“The salon is yours?” he asks, interrupting me.
“Uh…yeah,” I agree before taking another sip of coffee.
“Shit. I thought…I thought you just worked there.”
“Well, I do work there. And I don’t make a show of owning it. I’m not like some people who like to live their lives with everyone watching.”
“Ouch.”
“That wasn’t meant to be a dig at you.”
“Sure it wasn’t.”
“It wasn’t. I’m not throwing shade on people who choose to live their lives that way, I just…don’t.”
“Maybe not personally, but you should be loud as fuck about your salon. It’s pretty incredible.”
My head swivels to stare at him.
“What?”
“Your salon. The Bea Hive,” he adds quietly as if he’s figuring it out now. “It’s impressive. You should be proud and shouting it from the rooftops.”
“I am proud. It’s everything I always dreamed of.”
Finally, he looks over at me. My heart lurches when I find a soft smile on his lips.
“I’m proud of you.”