Chapter 9 #2
Venkat and Jonathan pull Patrick and Elias into a sports filled conversation that has all four of them laughing and talking really loudly.
I zone in and out of the conversation with Vera, Millie and Krys.
I can use exhaustion as an excuse and nobody would hold it against me, but it’s the truth.
I’m so tired. The week I took off after Mumbai really helped get my head on straight.
But that only meant I was behind on all my work.
The last few weeks have been chaos. So much to catch up on, project sites to visit.
I still haven’t told Aishani about the pregnancy, but it’s something I’ll have to do soon.
Right now, however, my bladder is screaming. So I excuse myself and go to the restroom. As usual there’s a crowd of drunk women holding each other up and a few others checking their makeup, so it takes me longer than I’d like to pee, wash my hands and walk out.
And directly into Patrick.
I huff and try to step around him. His hands settle on my waist again and he guides me out of the way. “What are you doing?”
“Wanted a quiet moment with you.”
I look up at him and frown. “Why?”
“I haven’t seen you in months and the first time I do, we’re surrounded by people.”
“That was by design.”
He continues to glare, clearly not impressed with my response.
I roll my eyes and lean against the wall, arms crossed over my chest. I didn’t know he was going to be here tonight, but when Vera said the men were coming, I should have known something was up.
Now that he’s here, I need to draw boundaries.
Or at least try. The thing about me and Patrick I don’t like admitting, even to myself, is I have no control.
As a teenager, all it took was a smile. As an adult, apparently it still works.
His left hand rests on the wall beside my head and I notice the dragon tattoo wrapped around his forearm. The other stays on my hip and I pointedly ignore looking at his face.
“Lotus.”
My nostrils flare at the nickname. “You have to stop, Patrick.”
“I can’t.”
I know why he can’t. It’s the same reason I call him Trick. It’s the one thing we both have of our past, our history.
“I need you to try,” I tell him softly.
We’ve got a baby connecting us, but that doesn’t mean we’re going to be together. Not when I’m still smarting at how easily he broke my heart. What annoys me even further is he doesn’t realise how much he hurt me back then.
“I don’t want us to fight.” The words are said simply, but I hear the pain in his voice. “I want to make this easy for both of us. Not for the baby, but for us.”
“I didn’t know we were fighting.”
“Then what do you call the snapping and snarling?”
I roll my eyes. “Not fighting.”
“Can we not not fight then?”
The earnestness in his voice is disarming and I let my protective shield slip. “But I like fighting with you.”
“Thought we weren’t fighting?”
“Just using your words.”
He chuckles. “Gets you all hot and bothered, doesn’t it?”
“Hardly,” I mutter.
“I don’t want us to be the kind of parents who fight in front of our kid, Tamara. I don’t know what the future holds, but can we at least try to find a balance?”
I’m not used to him calling me by my name, or sounding so serious.
It catches me off guard. He’s right, fighting isn’t going to help us in the long run.
I’m having our baby and he wants to be here for us.
It would be so easy to ignore him, keep fighting and pushing him away.
But this is Patrick, he’ll keep coming back for more. A glutton for punishment.
I sigh heavily and shrug. “We should talk first and it might lead to some fighting.”
“That’s probably unavoidable, but we can work through it.”
“Why is this so important to you?”
“Because I don’t know why you hate me.”
I don’t hide my wince, because it’s pointless. I used to hate him, but now I’m confused about my feelings.
“I don’t hate you, Trick.”
“I love when you call me that.” He breathes deeply, forehead pressing to mine. “Well, you treat me like you hate me.”
I close my eyes, hating the way he sounds. I didn’t care for so many years and now all of a sudden, he’s in my life and I care. I care so much it turns me into this monster.
“I don’t hate you. You infuriate me.”
“Because of my good looks and the thing I do with my cock, right?”
I push my fingers into his stomach hard and he yelps, stepping away from me.
I shift on my feet as he smiles, but I don’t return it.
I can’t. I don’t want this man thinking he’s got the drop on me.
Right now we’re two people trying to navigate this mess we find ourselves in. A mess we both want, separately.
“You can tell me all about it when we talk tomorrow,” he says and adjusts his shirt.
“I have to work.”
“Go in late.”
“Could you go in late for a practice?” He makes a face and I roll my eyes. “You can wait.”
“I can swing by your office.”
“Absolutely not.” I don’t need people at work knowing I’m connected to him. “Fine. Bring breakfast,” I say, realising the only way out of this is through, as painful as it may be.
He nods. “I’ll bring you anything you want, Lo.”
“Lo? Really, Patrick?”
“Patrick is what everyone else calls me. You only call me Trick.”
I snort, unable to hide the laugh that spills out after. His face transforms instantly; it goes from a playful smile to a full one. If he was handsome before, now he’s gorgeous.
“I hope our baby looks like you.” I’m surprised the words come out of me; they were supposed to stay inside my head.
“Fuck no. I hope it’s a little girl and she’s a copy of you.”
Exhaling, I stare as Patrick takes a step forward, slowly closing the gap between us. Here’s the problem in being alone with this man, I need to climb him. I know what it feels like to be held, touched, kissed and fucked by him. And I want it again.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I admit softly. It’s not a lie; it’s a hard truth to admit. I know I can handle this pregnancy on my own, especially with all the people willing to support me. But having the father of my baby here makes a difference.
“Me too, baby. Me fucking too.” The words are low and dangerous, making my body hum.
We stare at each other, my arms finally lowering to my sides.
I wonder if it’s the fact that I’m not in a defensive position anymore or if he sees the longing in my eyes.
One minute he’s a foot away and the next Patrick’s mouth is on mine.
There’s barely any hesitation on my part.
As his hands grip my hip and tug me closer, I slide mine around his neck.
The height difference means he lifts me off my feet, one hand sliding down to my ass as the kiss deepens.
This is exactly what I was afraid would happen when I’m around Patrick.
He’s irresistible even when he’s infuriating.
My lips part against his and his tongue sweeps into my mouth, one hand cupping the back of my head.
A moan echoes between us and the kiss changes, harder and more intense now.
His beard scrapes against my skin and I’m levitating.
I don’t even think about how effortlessly he’s lifting me up.
All I can focus on is how good it feels to have his strong body pressed against mine.
This is what kissing should always feel like.
“Oh good, you haven’t killed each other yet.”
The kiss breaks and I curse myself for letting go so easily.
“Go the fuck away,” he tells whoever it is.
I squirm in his arms and he reluctantly sets me down, but before I can step away, his mouth captures mine again.
The kiss is filthier now, but I press my hands to his chest and he finally pulls away.
I slide out from between Patrick and the wall, ignoring Elias’s wide-eyed expression.
“If you’re done, we’re heading out.”
I nod as Patrick touches my hand. “What do you want for breakfast?”
“Pancakes,” I reply and when he smiles, I do too, even though I hate myself for it.
“Save that smile for me, Lotus.”
I don’t know why, but I nod and walk to where everyone’s waiting.
I don’t look back, but I can feel his eyes on me.
I swear under my breath; this was not what I wanted to happen.
And now I’ve let him touch and kiss me again.
I’ve let him call me Lotus in that dangerous rasp and I’ve enjoyed it. Oh my god, I’m going to hell.