Chapter 33
33
Ezra
Today was hard.
Millie was magnificent.
What have I gotten myself into?
Fear swamped me when my brother didn’t come home or answer his phone, clouding all rational thought.
The first thing I do when we get back to the apartment is call my mom and apologize for the time Cam and I said we were at a buddy’s in Hoboken when we were really getting drunk. That night, I broke my wrist, and the hospital in Atlantic City called her. I’d never seen my mom that angry.
“Oh, sweetheart. It’s okay,” she assures me over the phone. “That’s part of being a parent. The good, the bad, the ugly. You get it all. Parenting is mostly just worrying about your kid. Even thirty-six years later, I still worry about you. You know that.”
I huff. Yeah, I sure do.
“What if I’m fu—screwing this whole thing up? What if I’m not a good guardian?”
She’s silent a moment, her rhythmic breathing the only sound. “I’m going to let you in on a little parenting secret. ”
I hold the phone closer to my ear so I don’t miss a thing.
“None of us know what the fuck we’re doing.”
The laugh that explodes from me can probably be heard in Hawaii. Tears of relief spring to my eyes with my mother’s validation.
“You’re doing a good job. I’ve seen you with that boy. If you feel like you’re screwing up, you’re doing it right.”
My chest aches with affection for her and for my brother. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Of course. That’s what I’m here for. So.” She changes the subject. “What’s going on with you and Millie? Has she gotten over her jet lag ?” She emphasizes the last part. My mom was sorely disappointed about Millie’s absence when we stopped by shortly after we returned.
“She’s coming over later. She was remarkable with Kane this afternoon.”
“They seem like they have a special bond.”
Pride and gratitude flood my veins. “They do.”
“Just be careful.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t want to see you hurt again,” she says in her most motherly of voices.
It takes effort not to sigh in response to her overprotectiveness. “I’m fine, Mom.”
“Didn’t I just tell you it’s my job to worry?”
“Millie’s different.”
Isn’t she?
Though she’s thirty minutes late, Millie arrives with an overflowing bag of candy. “I didn’t know what you two like.” She kicks off her shoes with gusto and hangs her purse by the door.
Kane holds the bag hostage, immediately ripping into the Sour Patch Kids and Swedish Fish. With a “Thanks, Mills” tossed over his shoulder, he settles back into his corner of the sofa.
“Mills, huh?” She hands me a bag of dark chocolate M&M’s—good guess.
“You two have really hit it off.”
She nods in response to my comment, but her eyes swim with an emotion I can’t read. Before I can give it any more thought, she’s pouring herself a glass of wine and telling me all about Cam and Joey’s latest travels to London. I listen intently while I pop popcorn, pretending it’s new and exciting information, even though I just got off the phone with Cam.
“What are we watching?” she asks as she pulls a pair of fuzzy socks from her purse.
Once she settles next to Kane, I set the large bowl of popcorn on the table in front of us and take a seat on her other side.
Her feet have crept their way into my lap before Ferris Bueller has even said, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”
At one point, Millie and Kane get into a debate about which Sour Patch Kid flavor is the best, so I pause the movie and bask in the moment. Damn, life really is great.
Unsurprisingly, my brother passes out before the credits roll. While Millie collects candy wrappers, I pull his long legs onto the sofa and cover him with a blanket. As I back away, an image of scooping up a younger version of Kane flashes through my mind: blond hair like his, curly like mine, and green eyes like Millie’s.
“I guess I’ll head out.”
“Stay.” I mean for it to be a demand, but it comes out more like a plea .
She lowers her focus to a spot on my shirt. “But I don’t have any of my things.”
I narrow my eyes. “You don’t wear pajamas. And I have an extra toothbrush. What more do you need?”
When she doesn’t have a comeback, I drag her by the hand into my bedroom and set a new toothbrush on the counter by the sink. We brush side by side, then she watches me in the mirror as I peel off my clothes.
In the bedroom she removes her shirt, revealing a pale blue bra. The dusty pink of her nipples peeks through the lace. “Why do you have sheets on top of your sheets? And are these waterproof?” she asks, poking the heap of linens on my mattress.
“Dammit. I changed and washed them but forgot to put them away. And of course they’re waterproof.” I wink. I fluff out the fitted sheet, then haphazardly fold it, though it looks more like a soft rock by the time I’m done with it.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she gasps. “What are you doing?” Her expression is much like the one I give my students when they use the newest slang: confused and repulsed.
“Think you can fold a fitted sheet better than this? I’d like to see you try.” I throw the bunched-up fabric at her.
She meticulously yet effortlessly folds it, giving Martha Stewart a run for her money.
Strangely, my heart rate kicks up at the sight of her. Am I in love?
She looks up. “What?”
“I don’t know anyone else who can fold a fitted sheet.”
“It’s a good party trick.”
“What kind of parties are you going to?” I laugh.
“The kind that needs new sheets.” She gives me a saucy wink.
Tackling her onto the bed, I tickle her sides until she’s yelling “safe word. ”
“Shh,” I mumble against her lips. “You’ll wake Kane.”
That quiets her quickly.
With a deep breath in, I savor her scent, then nibble on her earlobe. “You’re so talented.”
“Why? Because I can fold a fitted sheet?”
“Among other things.” I kiss a path down her neck, capturing the strap of her bra between my teeth as I go. As I drag it down her shoulder, her breast breaks free, and I suck her nipple into my mouth, reliving the moment she let me come all over them the other day.
“Wait.”
I immediately stop, rolling onto my side to give her space.
Her breasts hang heavy over her high-waisted leggings when she sits up. “We should talk.”
Dragging myself and my half-hard dick under the covers, I hold them aloft and invite her in too. “What’s up?”
She slips in beside me and rests her back against the pillow. “I went to the doctor this morning.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” My chest tightens with trepidation. “I would have gone with you.” I’m acting like we’re still fake married, but I’m too invested in her health, with her life in general, to stop now.
“I was going to call you after, but then all that stuff with Kane happened.”
I nod. “What did they say?”
She bows her head and picks at her fingernails. “Ezra, what are we doing here?”
My heart thumps painfully against my sternum. “What do you mean?”
“What if I can’t have children?” She still won’t look at me, though from here, I can tell her eyes are glossy.
“Where is this coming from? What did the doctor say?”
“He says I might have endometriosis. My Aunt Elin has it, and she’s lucky she even has Joey. What if that happens to me?” She runs the back of her wrist over her cheek. “What if this thing between us gets serious and you want kids, but I can’t give them to you? Maybe we should end this before we get in too deep.”
“Hey.” I stop her from tearing up her nails by placing my hand on top of hers. “Look at me.”
This is not how I saw this night going. One minute I’ve got her tit halfway down my throat, the next she’s talking about calling it quits. How did we get here?
“What if I can’t have kids?” she repeats. “You want to be a dad so badly. And I want that for you. But what if I can’t give that to you? I don’t want to take that dream away from you. Sam said?—”
“Sam?” My heart drops to my stomach. “Samantha? When did you talk to her?”
Millie finally looks at me, her eyes wide. “I, uh, I saw her after my doctor’s appointment. I ran into her, and she asked to have coffee together.”
“You went on a date with her?”
“Relax. It wasn’t a date.”
My hackles rise. “Don’t tell me to relax.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” She shifts beneath the sheet so she’s facing me. “I bumped into her randomly. She wanted to apologize. That’s all. Nothing happened. I swear.”
I want to believe her, I do. But my past is creeping up and tightening around my lungs like a thorny vine. “Did she hit on you?”
“No? I don’t think so. She told me I looked pretty, I guess, but?—”
“Fuck.” I grip my hair with both hands and tug. “I can’t believe this.”
“Ezra, what the hell? I’m telling you nothing happened. I wouldn’t lie to you. I know you’ve been burned badly in the past, but I’m not like those women.”
“I want to believe you, I do. It’s just…” I drop my head and focus on my breathing.
“I think I should go,” she whispers, shuffling toward the side of the bed.
“No.” I clamp down on her arm. “Why would you go?”
“Because. We’re fighting and?—”
“So what? That’s what couples do. But don’t you dare walk out on me. I can’t—I can’t have another woman walk out on me,” I croak, vulnerability lodged in my throat like a rock.
Our eyes lock and hold in a standoff.
Please.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. But it’s awkward now. Am I just supposed to lay next to you while we’re in the middle of an argument?”
“Yes.” I stroke a thumb over the back of her hand. “Listen. It’s been a long day. The stuff with Kane was a lot. We’re both emotional, so why don’t we table this discussion until we’ve had a good night’s sleep and some strong coffee and tea in the morning? I’d rather go to bed awkward and upset than say stupid shit we might regret.”
With an audible exhale, she nods.
“And let’s face it, it’ll be more awkward if you leave. Please stay. I’ll even build you a pillow fort if that makes you feel better.”
“It’s a pillow wall.” She giggles. “I didn’t think couples were supposed to go to bed angry.”
“Oh, are you confirming we’re a couple, then?”
She rolls her eyes, but rather than answer that question, she says, “Fine. I’ll stay.” After she’s stripped out of her leggings and thong, she dips back beneath the sheets.
It’s silent between us, just the sounds of the city seeping in through the windows, and it doesn’t take long before her skin brushes against mine and her arm is draped over my chest.
“Earlier, you said before we get in too deep .” I rub the soft skin of her bum. “It’s too late, Mills. I’m already in too deep.”
“That’s what she said.” She cackles.
“Oh my god.” I pinch her side. I love you nearly slips out, but I lock that shit up tight. “Let’s fight in the morning, and you can tell me all about your doctor’s appointment, yeah?”
“Sounds good. Good night, Ezra.”
In the morning, I wake to Millie snuggled in close and a slick layer of sweat between my hip and where her thigh wraps around it. Her breath is warm against my neck, and she’s rubbing her finger against my beard in soothing motions.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice rough with sleep.
“It’s like ASMR. It’s satisfying.”
I squeeze her thigh. “If you’re trying to be cute to get out of our talk, it won’t work.”
“How about a blow job?” she asks, her tone full of mirth. “All right, fine.” Sitting up, she swings her legs over the bed, giving me the perfect view of her naked back. I want nothing more than to drag her over me and impale her with my cock, but we need to work through some things first.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“To brush my teeth, dumbass.” She stands and saunters toward the bathroom, leaving me gawking at her sinful body. “I’m not arguing with morning breath. Plus, you promised me coffee.”
I check on Kane, who made his way to his room sometime during the night, and leave two pain relievers, a banana, and a glass of water on his nightstand for when he wakes up. When I return to the bedroom with two mugs, I nearly spill the hot liquid at the sight before me. She’s scrolling through her phone, wearing my shirt in my bed. For several heartbeats, I linger in the doorway and commit the image of her to memory.
After a minute, she looks up and makes grabby hands for the coffee, and I obediently deliver it to her.
“Mmm,” she sighs as she swallows. “This tastes like the macadamia nut coffee I had in Hawaii.” She tilts her head, scrutinizing me. “But you don’t drink coffee.”
I take a sip of my black tea before setting it on the nightstand. “The coffee is from my mom’s stash, but Kane thought we should buy this creamer for you.”
A weak smile comes to play across her face. “That was sweet of him. He’s a good kid. Is he awake?”
With a shake of my head, I pop open my prescription bottle. “Forgot to take my Viagra.”
The joke garners a bigger grin from Millie. God, I need more mornings like this.
Though I’m desperate to know if she put on panties, I focus on the tough conversation looming over us instead. Flipping through my mental catalog of therapy lessons, I begin. “I felt…” I take a deep breath, “shocked and hurt when you said you met Samantha for coffee. It felt like you went behind my back. In the future,” Lord, I hope there’s a future , “I would appreciate it if you communicated with me right away if something like this comes up.”
She could catch flies with the way her jaw hangs open.
“What?” I ask.
Stuttering, she blinks rapidly. “I just… you’re just… I didn’t expect you to be so direct yet kind. My last boyfriend yelled at me and flipped over a vase during our last argument, and we never talked again.”
I bristle and silently beat up the asshole in my mind. “I would never yell at you. I’ve done enough therapy and I’ve done the work. I can communicate my feelings. I may not always get it right, like last night, but I try my best.”
“That’s refreshing,” she says. Her lips are turned down, though she looks impressed rather than upset. “I really am sorry about yesterday. She caught me off guard. I swear to you nothing happened. She apologized, and then I hightailed it out of there before I could even finish my coffee. I truly never care to see her again.”
“I believe you.”
Her expression goes soft for a moment, but then her lips twitch. “I think she might have been pissed when I told her we went to Hawaii together.”
“Good. Serves her right.” I laugh. “Now, can we talk about your doctor’s appointment?”
Her eyes drop to her coffee, like she’s found an interesting specimen floating in her mug.
“Look at me, honey.”
Chin lifted, she worries her bottom lip.
“I realize we haven’t had the most traditional start to our relationship.” I cock a brow. “Lord knows you gave me a run for my money in Greece. I wasn’t looking for anything serious…”
She lets out a breathy scoff.
“Okay, fine.” I chuckle. “But I never imagined the girl who blew me away singing karaoke, then presented me with her vending machine dildo would make such a lasting impression on me.”
Her cheeks flush and her eyes glimmer at that.
“I like you. A lot.” I might even be in love with you . “I want to be with you. But I’d be lying if I said I’d be okay with you taking too much time to figure things out. I have Kane to think about now, and he’s already made you a part of his life. Plus, I’m old. ”
She giggles, though she lifts her mug to hide the way her lips quirk up.
I love that I can make her laugh in the middle of a serious conversation. “So please. Talk to me.”
With one more sip, she sets her coffee on the nightstand. Then she curls her legs under her body and faces me. Yeah, definitely no panties .
“Okay,” she breathes. “I’ve never imagined a guy being my endgame—not that I’m saying you’re my endgame.” A flush creeps into her cheeks as she peers at me. Fuck, it’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.
With a nod, I go easy on her. “I know what you mean.”
“Any time I’ve thought about marriage, I’ve pictured marrying a woman. I don’t know why.” She shrugs. “For years, I haven’t let myself stray from that vision. Being bi can be so complex. And I guess I thought that if I married a man, then I’d be betraying the part of me who fights so hard to convince people that the B in LGBT is real. I am the B, you know?”
I nod. I can’t pretend to understand what it’s like to be queer, but I want her to know that her feelings are worth listening to.
“There’s so much stigma, even in the queer community, surrounding bisexuality. It’s hard not to worry that if I marry a man— one day , of course—I’ll be erased from the community.”
As much as I want to tell her that she shouldn’t have to prove her sexuality to anyone, I remain silent.
“Logically I know that’s not true. It’s just taking me time to rethink my future.”
“And what do you see in your future now?” I grab her hands and rub my thumbs over her smooth skin.
Please say me .
She pulls them away, and my heart sinks. “There’s more.” She sighs. “When I think about your future, I see you as a father. You’re practically one to Kane now. It’s only a matter of time before you get full custody, right?”
Teeth pressed into my bottom lip, I nod. “That’s the plan.”
“The desire to have kids of your own is written all over your stupidly handsome face.” She waves a hand in front of me. “And… and I’m afraid I won’t be able to give that to you. I can’t be certain, of course, but between what the doctor has told me and what I’ve googled”—she says that last part under her breath—“it’s a possibility. It’s wild to talk about having children together when we’ve only started dating, but I’d hate for things to get too serious and for hearts to get broken.” Her eyes go misty, her focus set on my face.
Fuck, I yearn to wipe her tears away. “Millie…”
“Wait.” She holds out a hand, fingers splayed. “You’re going to say none of that matters, but stop and think. Doesn’t it ? Doesn’t it matter to you that you one day have kids?”
With a deep inhale and exhale, I study her face, waiting to see whether she’s got more to say. “Is it my turn?”
She nods.
“Fine.” I gather her hands in mine, and this time, she doesn’t pull away. “I can’t sit here and tell you it wouldn’t be a disappointment if I didn’t get to see your beautiful body round with my child.” My eyes dip to her stomach. “And I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t turn me on just thinking about it. But there are other ways to have a family. People do it all the time. Take Cam’s parents, for example.”
The confused frown that mars her face tells me she doesn’t know what I’m talking about.
“He’s an IVF baby.”
Her eyes widen, and her breath catches.
“So it’s not impossible. Plus, I’d be open to adoption. But Millie, even if none of those work out, it will be okay. ”
A single tear rolls down her cheek, and this time I do wipe it away.
“But how do you know?” she asks.
“Because I’ll have you.”