41. Pineapple Pizza
FORTY-ONE
PINEAPPLE PIZZA
Lach
It only took a month for both of us to not only have free time but also a day off together. I’ve been taking as many freelance gigs as I can. Babies aren’t cheap, and I want to help Eve as much as possible. We use our time together to collect the last of Eve’s things from Jake’s house.
“When’s the pizza going to get here? I’m starving.” Eve flops down on the bed, resting a hand on her belly.
“I think you’re the only person I know who’s excited for pineapple pizza,” I take a seat next to her.
“It’s just so good.”
“Said no one ever,” I counter.
“I’m not eating it for me. I’m eating it for the baby. The baby gets what the baby wants.”
“We could’ve at least gone half-and-half or something.”
“Speak to the man in charge.” She points to her belly. “Not only does he like fresh pineapple pizza, but cold, left-over pineapple pizza is his jam.”
I scoot away and lean down so my face is inches from Eve’s belly. “Hey, buddy. It’s time we have a chat, man to man. I need you to develop better food tastes. The pineapple pizza just isn’t cutting it.”
Eve’s belly bounces as she laughs. There’s a knock on the front door, and I jump to my feet. In the entryway, I twist the knob and yank it open. It’s not pizza.
“What are you doing here?” Eve’s ex, Pax, stands on the doorstep, just as shocked to see me as I am to see him.
“Can I talk to Eve?”
“No.” I deadpan. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”
“And you know this how?”
“Lach! Hurry! I need pizza.” Eve whines from the bedroom.
Pax shifts to see around me. “Eve! Are you in there?”
I slam the door, hoping like hell he gets the hint. Eve strolls out of the bedroom and comes to a stop. She stares at my empty hands. “Where’s the pizza?”
“It’s not here.” I scowl.
Her brows knit together. “Then who’s at the door?”
“No one.”
Another knock comes from the door, followed by a muffled, “Eve!”
Her eyes drift from me to the door, then back to me before weaving past me and pulling it open. Her back stiffens like an iron beam.
“Eve,” Pax says. His gaze drops to her belly. “Oh shit. You are pregnant.”
Eve sighs. “I told you that when I called you. Did you think I was lying? Never mind, it’s not important. Why are you here, Pax?” The annoyance is dripping from her voice. I don’t blame her because I’m right there too.
I move to stand behind Eve. I’m here if she needs me for anything. She peers over her shoulder and gives me a small smile before her attention drifts back to Pax.
Pax rubs the back of his neck. “I needed to see you. I miss you.” He looks up to me and then back to Eve. “Can we talk alone?”
“No.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “There is nothing we need to discuss unless you want to sign over paternity rights. Otherwise, we can discuss child support when the baby is born.” She glares at him.
His eyes dart everywhere and anywhere besides Eve—the one person his attention should be on. I’m sure he’s stalling to conjure up some stupid excuse. This confirms how much of a piece of shit he is.
“My wife can’t know about this. Any of this,” he grits through his teeth.
“Sorry to burst your I-want-my-cake-and-eat-it-too bubble, but it doesn’t work that way. She will find out. You can’t keep your child from her for eighteen years. Since you’re in town, your best option is to come with me tomorrow, and we’ll get a paternity test. When it proves you’re the father, you can relinquish your parental rights.” She blows out a breath. “Then you can continue on with your life as if nothing happened.”
Holy shit. Is he going to go with this plan? It would make Eve’s life a whole lot easier. She wants nothing to do with Pax. She’s more than capable of being a great mom to her baby boy, and I will be right there by her side. The baby won’t be without a father. I’ll be a father to him.
A car door on the street interrupts us. A young man steps out in jeans and a hoodie with a Harbor Highlands Pizzeria logo printed on the front. He jogs up to the door. “I have a pizza for Lach.”
I sidestep Eve and Pax, passing the delivery guy some cash for the pizza. Eve’s nose follows the lingering aroma of the savory tomato sauce and the sweet and tangy smell of the pineapple.
“I’ll call you tomorrow, Pax, and we’ll go to the clinic for the test.” Before he can say anything else, she closes the door on him.
I laugh. “Clearly we know which is more important to you between pizza or Pax.” I set the pizza box on the coffee table in front of the couch.
“Pizza would win one hundred percent every time.” Eve takes a seat and flips open the box, grabbing a slice. “Also, don’t come between a hungry pregnant woman and food.”
“Noted.” I grab a slice for myself. “Do you think he’ll go through with it tomorrow?”
Eve finishes chewing and then swallows. “He’ll do anything to avoid threats to his lifestyle. He’s selfish like that. I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. He doesn’t want a kid. I would rather be a single mom than have a piece of shit like him around. It would be more of a headache than being helpful.”
I nod. “I have your back, no matter what happens.”
A radiant smile spreads across her face as she beams up at me, her eyes sparkling with happiness. “I know.”
We finish eating in comfortable silence. That’s one thing I love about being with Eve. We can be content just being in each other’s presence. No need to fill the silence with meaningless words. Our words are invisible, but we both feel them. Eve leans over, resting her head on my shoulder. She pops the last bite of pizza crust into her mouth and moans in satisfaction.
Dessa and Riley always talk about when you find the one, you just know it. I never believed it. I always thought it was horseshit. Until now. I can’t explain it. It’s a tightness in my chest. A flutter in my stomach. I don’t want to be with anyone else. I think back to the woman at the bookstore. She told me it wouldn’t be worth it if it wasn’t hard. Eve is worth it. She’s worth every punch in the face. Every surprise ex visit. Because I also get every smile. Every laugh. Every kiss. We will emerge stronger because we faced those challenges together.
We finish packing the last of Eve’s stuff, haul everything to my truck, and head home. Our home. After we move the last of the boxes into the townhouse, we’re both exhausted. Eve sits up in bed, leaning against the headboard as she reads the book we’ve been reading together out loud. I’m only half listening, though. Something else is on my mind.
I reach over and grab the pen sitting on top of my short stack sketchbook on the nightstand. Grabbing Eve’s hand, I lay it flat on the bed, palm up.
She stops reading and peers down at me. “What are you doing?”
“I got an idea for a sketch.”
“So you’re using me as the canvas?”
“Seems like the perfect spot. Just keep reading.”
I twist my body to shield her eyes from what I’m drawing. She laughs but continues reading the book. I slide the ink pen over her skin, starting with the outside lines. The black ink is a stark contrast against her light skin. I draw small flourishes around the outside and lightly shade on the inside. Every now and then she twitches as the pen tickles her skin. When I’m satisfied, I pull the pen away, dropping it to the comforter.
“Are you finished?” she asks.
“Yeah, I think I am.” I sit up so she can get a full view.
Her gaze drops to her wrist, and she gasps. The book falls from her grasp and lands on the comforter. Tears prick the corner of her eyes. She lifts her wrist to get a closer look at the cursive lines of “I love you” surrounded by sunflowers. Her gaze drifts to meet mine, and her lips part.
“Do you mean it?”
I hate that she even has to ask the question. “With my whole fucking heart. I love you, Sunflower.”
A tear rolls down her cheek, and she wipes it away, making sure not to use her hand with the drawing so it doesn’t smear.
Rising up, I move to sit next to her. “I’ve been gasping for breath my entire life. And you’re the breath I didn’t know I was missing. I love your laughter, your quirkiness, your fierceness, and spontaneity.”
She rests a hand on my cheek. “I love you, Lach. I love your thoughtfulness, your protectiveness, and how sweet you are.”
Leaning in a few inches, I press my lips to hers. It’s soft and gentle and perfect for this moment. She gasps and pulls away. Her fingers splay over her growing baby bump. She freezes, and her eyes widen.
“Is everything okay?” I scan her face and down her body to her belly.
Her head bobs up and down. She grabs my hand and places it on her stomach.
“What are you?—”
“Do you feel that?” she whispers. “It’s not gas this time.”
My gaze drops to my hand. Against my palm, her skin twitches. My mouth drops open. I move down the bed to get closer to her stomach. Holy shit. As fast as it happened, it disappears. “That’s crazy.” I peer up at Eve.
“It is.” She smiles at me and leans against the headboard. “Tell me something real.”
I rub my chin, thinking of the perfect answer. Then it hits me. “Something real…I hate peas.”
“Really?” she whines. “Who hates—” she begins before abruptly stopping and widening her eyes. “Wait! Is that?—”
I roll my head back in laughter. “ 10 Things I Hate About You . Yes. You gave me Patrick’s name. I had to see for myself who I needed to live up to.”
“I promise there is no comparison between you and Patrick Verona. I’d say I got the better deal.”
I look down at the comforter and pick at an invisible thread. Eve knows me. The real me, but she doesn’t know all of me. I’m terrified if I tell her she’ll not want to be with me. My past is my past, and I prefer it stays there. I peer up at her. “You’re my first actual girlfriend.”
She sits forward, dropping her hands to the bed. “You’ve never had a girlfriend? I figured you had a trail of broken hearts following you around.”
I bark out a laugh. “If I broke their hearts, that was on them. I never got that involved. I never wanted to.” My gaze drifts to hers. Blue eyes meeting hazel. “Until you.” While it’s something real, I don’t know if it’s the real she was looking for. Right now, it’s all I got. It’s always hard handing over one hundred percent of yourself. I’ve never done it. I don’t know if I can. “So what about me? I know I’m not your only, but what about number two or three?”
She laughs and buries her head in her hands. “Is it sad to say, I don’t even know. I dated. A lot. I hated the idea of being alone. Some were more serious than others. But I do know you’re the one who means the most to me.” She leans back, resting against the headboard. “Looking back, I don’t even know if I liked Pax. He was there. It was convenient. I always like the comfort of knowing someone was there. Which always got me in trouble.” She waves a hand over her belly. “This being the most recent. But I wouldn’t change it for anything.” A laugh bursts out of her. “Look at us. You don’t do relationships, and I can’t seem to stay out of them.”
“Maybe that’s how we make it work so well.” I shrug.
“How can you be such an amazingly sweet and caring guy? I’m such a hot mess. I don’t deserve someone like you.”
I grab her hand, the one with the drawing on her wrist, and flip it over. My fingers trace over her palm. “I love that you’re a hot mess.”
Her jaw drops, and she giggles. “Thanks for that.” She tugs her hand away, but I refuse to let her go.
“You didn’t let me finish. I love that you’re a hot mess because I want to see all of you. The good, the bad, and the hot mess. I want to be your rock during all those times. To help you. Comfort you. Cheer you on. Anything you need me to do. I’ll be a hot mess with you. I love you.”
“Good save.” Her hand wraps around my wrist, and she pulls me to where she’s sitting. I drop my hands on either side of her hips. My lips are inches from hers. “Did you ever play hockey? Because you’d make a good goalie.”
“No, but we can play a little stick-in-the-net action if you’d like.”
“Now you’re speaking my language.” She wiggles her eyebrows before leaning in, pressing her lips to mine.