Chapter 17 #2
I’m all in, ready to be the parent this baby deserves.
I won’t be anything but that. My history might be a part of me, and it definitely shaped me into the man I am today, but it won’t define me as a parent.
We can call it a what not to do for parenting, if you will.
My child will never wonder if he or she is loved, never be left to fend for themselves, never listen to his parents fight and argue twenty-four seven.
He or she will have the life they deserve.
You can count on that.
My phone chimes with a text, breaking through the music piping in my earbuds early Monday morning. The sun is just starting to peek over the horizon, and it’s my favorite time to run. Cool, crisp air and still all around me, the day fresh and new.
My mind is anything but settled, however. Ever since Charli stopped by and laid a bomb at my feet Saturday night, I’ve barely slept. Worry and doubt have crept in, and I can’t help but feel like I’m not going to be the man I need to be. For Charli. For our baby.
I slow my pace to a fast walk and pull my phone from my pocket. I don’t receive a lot of texts at this time of morning, so I need to see what’s going on. My heartbeat kicks up even more when I see Charli’s name on the screen.
Charli
Don’t take this the wrong way, but fuck you.
Me
What’s wrong?
Charli
Oh, nothing. Just sitting here with my head in the toilet.
Me
Shit, Charli. What do you need?
Charli
For you to take over the morning sickness part of this pregnancy. I don’t want to do that.
I snort a chuckle, turning at the end of the street. My pace is clipped, and the only reason I don’t run is because I’m texting.
Me
If I could, I would in a heartbeat. What can I do?
Charli
Nothing. I’m just feeling crummy, and figured if I have to be up before the sun, then so do you.
Smiling, I fire off my reply.
Me
The sun’s already up, sweetheart.
Charli
Great.
I can practically hear the sarcasm pouring through the screen.
Me
Is your front door locked?
Charli
Excuse me?
Me
The deadbolt. Is it locked?
Charli
Yes, of course.
Me
Can you unlock it and then go lie down?
Charli
Why? Are you up to no good?
Me
Always. I am friends with your brother. Don’t kick me in the balls when I walk into your house.
Charli
You don’t have to come over.
Me
Too bad. I’m already en route.
Reaching the end of the block, I see Charli’s condo just off to the left about half a block away.
Me
Unlock the deadbolt. I’m almost there.
Charli
You’re bossy.
Me
Pot, meet kettle.
Charli
Fine.
Me
Good, now go lie down.
Charli
I’m not having sex with you.
A huge grin spreads across my lips. At least she’s still sassy, despite not feeling well.
Me
Good, because I’m not having sex with you either.
I slip my phone into my pocket and walk up her front sidewalk.
When I reach the door, I input the code into her keypad and watch the light turn green.
Twisting the handle, I smile when the door opens.
Making sure it’s secured behind me, I head to the kitchen and grab some water.
Then, I recall what she said about snacking on peanut butter crackers and dive into her pantry until I find the prepackaged snacks.
Then, I set out for her bedroom.
Charli is curled up on her side, her comforter pulled up around her neck. “I hate you.”
I chuckle, setting the glass of water down on her nightstand. “You’ve said that before,” I state, opening the package of crackers and pulling one out. “Here.”
“I can’t eat in my bed. I’ll get crumbies everywhere.”
“I’ll clean it up,” I insist, holding the cracker sandwich closer.
“Fine,” she mutters, grabbing the food from my hand and hesitantly taking a small nibble. “If I throw this up, I’m gonna be so pissed at you.”
“Not the first time, probably won’t be the last,” I state, taking a seat on the mattress beside her. I wait until she has most of the cracker consumed before asking, “Feeling better?”
“Yeah,” she responds, reaching for the glass of water and sipping. “Yesterday’s morning sickness didn’t last too long.”
“You were throwing up yesterday too?” I ask, hating she not only endured that, but did it alone.
“Yes. Fortunately, after I got up and moving and then ate a piece of buttered toast, I felt much better. I had to give up my coffee drinks though,” she mutters, clearly unhappy about this development.
“Really?”
“Caffeine and sugar and all that,” she replies softly.
“Damn, how will you cope?” I tease, though I’m partially serious.
“No clue,” she mumbles, eating a second cracker. This time, not worrying about getting crumbs in her bed.
“Can you drink decaf?” I suggest, realizing I don’t know much about anything when it comes to pregnancy. I’m going to have to do a little research online later.
“Probably, but honestly, that doesn’t even sound good. Nothing sounds good right now.”
Noticing how positively stunning she is feels like a kick to the gut from a horse.
Her blond hair is wild, matted down a bit from sleep and sweat, her face is void of makeup, and her coloring is a little chalky.
Yet, I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman in my life.
Not to mention she’s wearing a thin little sleepshirt, and her tits are…
wow. They seem bigger and firmer than before, which causes a slight situation below the waist. Considering I’m wearing regular athletic shorts, they don’t conceal anything in the moment.
“You’re not getting sick any other time of day?” I ask, trying to get my mind off the sexy woman before me and the fact she’s lying in bed.
“So far, no.”
“That’s good.”
She sighs and flops over on her pillow, second cracker already consumed.
“Yes, it’s good, I’m only throwing up in the early mornings and not all day long,” she sasses with a lighthearted eye roll.
“Maybe if you wouldn’t have gotten me into this situation, we wouldn’t be worrying about what time of day I’m throwing up. ”
“I believe there were two people involved in the situation making,” I state playfully.
When her eyes meet mine, they’re lively and full of fire. It’s as if she’s remembering exactly what led us to our present situation. “I suppose you’re right, but I’m still going to hang this over your head, since I’m the one doing all the vomiting.”
I snicker at her comment and pull the blanket up around her neck.
Partially to keep her warm, but also to cover her up.
Seeing her in a sleepshirt starts to put thoughts in my head.
When she yawns and closes her eyes, I realize there’s nothing keeping me here except my own need.
Need to protect her, to protect our baby.
But there’s nothing I can do except be there for her when she needs me most. If that means I have to show up every morning, hold her hair while she throws up, and give her water and crackers until she’s feeling human again, then so be it.
“Try and get some rest, Charli,” I murmur softly, pressing my lips to her forehead.
“Okay,” she mumbles, sleep already starting to claim her.
“Rest, sweetheart,” I add before practically tearing myself away from her bed when all I want to do is crawl beneath the covers with her.
“Quinn?” she murmurs softly when I reach the doorway to her bedroom.
I glance over my shoulder, my heart practically tripping over itself at the sight before me.
Her.
Fuck, this crush is going to get so much worse now that she’s having my baby.
“Thank you.”
I nod, unable to find the words.
Or trying to keep the ones I long to say to her from spilling out of my mouth.
I keep moving, walking straight to her front door and pulling it closed tightly behind me. When I make sure it’s locked, I head down her front steps and back to the sidewalk. The sun is now shining brightly in the sky and feels good warming my skin.
I head toward my house with a smile on my face and a heart full of something that feels a lot like hope.