17. Chelsea
CHELSEA
When I get a knock on my door, I assume that it's Jenna back with the pizza. She’s been on a junk food kick for the whole week, but that’s typical for her after fashion week.
It's Saturday, and we had bagels this morning, while I worked on my laptop, sitcoms droning in the background.
And on her way back from meeting with her agent, she said she was going to pick up some pizza, and since I would be done with work by then, we could sit in front of the TV. I was very much looking forward to that.
That’s why I open the door wide without checking the peephole first. I feel like I can already smell the pizza, and my stomach is rumbling in welcome....
Only for me to be greeted by the sight of a large man in my doorway.
“Sam?” My mouth falls open slightly as I blink up at him. “What are you doing here?”
He doesn’t respond at first. His face is pale, his eyes wide, expression twisted into a grimace, and he looks slightly constipated, too.
“Are you okay?” I ask, and he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, shoulders straightening as though he’s come to a monumental decision.
Then he slowly lowers to one knee.
I freeze in shock. “What are you doing?”
“I’m asking you to marry me.”
I didn’t know it was possible to be even more shocked, but somehow I manage. “What?”
“Will you marry me, Chelsea?”
My denial comes out in a series of confused sputtering. “Of course not. What the heck? Why would you even ask me something like that?”
“Because…I want to take responsibility.”
“Take respon–” Suddenly, my head clears, and it hits me. “Damn it. Jake told you, didn’t he?”
He starts shaking his head, but then he probably sees that I don’t buy it, so he nods instead, “Yes.”
“I told him not to.”
“He’s not good at keeping secrets. He would make a terrible husband. Me, on the other hand, am excellent at keeping secrets and would make a good husband.”
That makes me laugh. Not because it's funny, but just the sheer ridiculousness of opening the door and finding Sam there, and him getting down on one knee and proposing, while throwing Jake under the bus.
It's just an insane series of events.
“How did you know where I live?” I ask, because I don't remember ever giving him my address.
He shakes his head. “You don’t want me to answer that.”
"No, I really do.”
He sighs deeply and gets back on his feet.
He tucks his hands in his pockets, guilt giving his face a boyish expression.
He looks very much like a child who’s done something wrong, aware he’s about to be scolded.
“Remember the other day after our meeting when it was running pretty late, and you decided not to take a ride from any of us and head home by yourself? "
"Yeah." I raise my eyebrow. That was the first meeting since the big reveal happened.
It had been hard, sitting amidst all the awkwardness, and deciding to continue with the meeting regardless, but we made it through.
After it was done, Sam and Jake both offered me a ride, but I wasn't about to be in a car with any of them any time soon.
Not because they're bad people.
I just didn't trust myself around them anymore, especially after what Jenna said.
What if you're falling in love?
No. I can't be.
I reject it with everything within me. Setting aside the sheer ridiculousness of falling in love with three men, all of whom I barely know, it would just be so fucking inconvenient for me to be in love with anyone right now, when I have so much on my plate already.
"Well, it was running pretty late, so I was worried."
"It was only eight pm," I counter.
"Exactly."
"And? What happened?"
"I followed you."
I blink. “You followed me?”
“I wanted to make sure you got home safe."
Now, why does that sound adorable, rather than creepy, like it's supposed to sound? Is it just because he's hot and has eyes like the sea that makes me feel like I’m floating?
I clear my throat and cross my arms over my chest, trying to stand firm. "You could have just called me after I got home, and then you would know.”
“By then, I would be too late.” His eyes darken for an instant, their depths haunted. "Something could already have happened, and I would have been too late to stop it."
I want to ask him what it is he's scared might happen, but I don't want to trigger painful thoughts.
Clearly, some horrifying incident lurks in his memories, something that happened that torments him to this day.
But then he caps it all off by saying, “This wouldn’t have happened if you’d just let me drive you home.”
“Oh no, you don’t." I wag my finger. "You’re not going to put your crazy behavior on me.”
He gives me a wounded look, and for some reason, I have to press my lips together hard so as not to laugh again.
Instead, I shake my head.
“Okay, listen. I don’t need you to marry me.”
“I know you don’t. I’m not asking because you need it.”
“Then why are you asking?”
“Because I want to."
That has me rearing back. “You want to marry me?”
He thinks about it for a second and nods. Odd. This is the most bizarre conversation I’ve ever had.
A stranger wants to marry me.
“You don’t even know me,” I say.
“That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is. All you know about me is my name and the fact that I work in marketing.”
“That’s not all I know,” he says, and though he doesn’t smile, the roguish twinkle in his eyes lets me know that he's teasing.
I roll my eyes even as a blush fills my face.
I should probably go back inside and end this conversation right here and now, but I linger anyway.
Because deep inside, a part of me is enjoying myself, enjoying talking with him, watching the funny expressions he makes, and how he thinks about things deeply before he lets the sentence out of his mouth.
I don’t know why, but I feel so comfortable around him. Typically, I’m not as relaxed around virtual strangers, and around the other two men, they're too aware and practiced that it intimidates me.
Whereas with him, it's clear he's just as awkward as I am when it comes to conversation. Therefore, there's an understanding there, and I'm not as scared to talk to him. It feels like I can’t say the wrong thing, like we’re kindred fumbling souls who don’t have to worry about saying the perfect things to each other.
“We can get to know each other better after we’re married," he says, and that triggers a surprise burst of laughter from my lips that has him smiling.
“What are we in the 1900s?” I ask.
“Arranged marriages are still a thing in many cultures, and some of them are really successful.”
"We're not having an arranged marriage. Why do you want to marry me, Sam?”
“Because I know.”
“Know what?”
"That you’re the one.”
That has me blinking up at him in surprise, unable to believe what he’s saying. “You realize that’s a crazy thing to say about someone you barely know, right?”
At least he smiles. “Yes. But I guess I’m a crazy romantic.”
I open my mouth to say something else, but then I notice a familiar truck speeding into my parking lot and two of the other men hopping out. They both jog up the staircase as we watch them, and I only manage to take a few breaths before they reach us.
“Please tell me we got here before he said something stupid,” Adam asks.
I lean against the doorway. “Well, he just asked me to marry him, so define stupid.”
Adam’s eyes grow wide as saucers, and he looks to Sam, who shrugged carelessly.
“I apologize,” Adam says. “We should have had him committed a long time ago, but we held off on it because of our affection toward him."
"It's not all his fault." I focus on Jake. “You were supposed to keep it a secret.”
“Yeah." He rubs the back of his neck in discomfort. “I should have warned you that I’m not really the best at keeping secrets.”
“I bet. It took you all of what? Six days?”
“It only took him a couple of hours to tell me,” Adam says, and I roll my eyes as Jake smiles.
And then he stops smiling when I throw up my hands. “Okay, well, I guess everyone knows now, so here's the truth. Yes, I'm pregnant, and yes, it's most likely one of yours."
“Have you made up your mind on what you're going to do?”
“I’m keeping it,” I say. “When I give birth, then we can have a DNA test and decide who’s the father, but until then, I don’t really need any of you around me.”
Adam's nostrils flare, and he works his jaw.
“I don’t think we can accept that," he says, and I raise my eyebrow.
“You don’t think you can accept that? And who told you that I was asking your permission?”
"Settle down, Tiger,” Jake says with a grin. “He’s not saying that he's going to impose himself. Adam's just a control freak, but what he's trying to say is that I don't think we can just sit back while you handle this whole pregnancy on your own."
"Why not? None of you wanted kids, right?"
Adam doesn't say anything, and Jake purses his lips in thought.
Sam says, "I want kids."
"You do?"
"Yes. I just...I never thought I would be a good father because of my issues."
"What issues?"
When Sam doesn’t immediately answer, Jake goes in with, "He means he has a tendency to obsess over things and go into his basement studio and not come out for weeks."
"You do that?" I ask, and he blushes as he nods.
"But only when I have a muse."
"Did you have a muse currently?"
He doesn't respond. The other boys give him what I assume are disgusted looks, and he blushes.
"Okay, I guess we'll need to talk about this for longer then," I say and step back. "Come in. You're letting all the hot air out."
I step back, allowing them into my space, even though something in my gut tells me that this is a bad idea.
But it's not like they'll stay long anyway. Jenna is on her way back as we speak, and I just don't want us standing out where the neighbors can see us having this conversation.
Jake and Sam settle on the couches and Adam remains standing.
"I don't mind having children," Jake says. "Just to answer your question. I mean, I never thought it would happen like this, or ever really, but I don't think I've never not wanted to be a father."
I accept that with a nod, then turn to Adam, the only one who hasn't spoken, and he says. "I'm not going to abandon my child."
"That's not what I asked."
"It's the only relevant part of the question. If the child is mine, I want to raise it, along with you, whether we're together or not."
So he's the only one being rational here.
So how come his words sting a little?
I run my hand through my hair, suppressing the irrational emotion. "Look, I don't mind any of you being in the child's life, but coming here and doing all this is too premature."
"You're pregnant," Adam says. "Pregnancy is one of the most vulnerable times in a woman's life. We're not going to let you go through that alone.”
"I'm not alone. I have my brother and Jenna, my best friend. She's probably on her way here right now."
"Does your brother know?" Jake asks.
"No, and you're not allowed to tell him yet." I give him a hard look, and he nods.
"Sure."
"I'm serious, Jake. If he finds out before I'm ready, I'll stab you with a kitchen knife."
A small smile kicks up the corner of his lips. "Kinky."
I try not to laugh at that, taking my attention back to Adam. "What I mean to say is that I have all the help I'll need. You guys don't need to be around me."
"What if we want to be?" Sam says, and before I can answer, there's a knock on the door.
Probably Jenna.
I was hoping they would be gone before she arrived. I didn't want her to meet the men, but I walk to the door anyway and open it.
My breath catches when I see who's there.
Eric.
My amusement dies, and pure wrath fills me. "What the fuck are you doing here?"
He grins. "Did you miss me?"
"What do you want?"
"To talk. And to get some of the stuff you took when you were leaving."
"And you chose now to do it?"
"Yes. Is there a problem?"
I resist the urge to tell him to get the fuck out. We're past that. I have to be an adult about this.
And not spit in his face.