10. Zoe
10
Zoe
"Honestly, if you're not willing to sound stupid, you don't deserve to be in love." – A Lot Like Love
“ I ’m going to be a dad?” Matteo leans into me, whispering as if it’s some kind of a secret. His eyes are huge and wild and up until just now were full of so much terror, it was almost comical. While now they hold some other weird, unexplainable emotion in them.
To say I’m shocked to see him standing in all of his handsome glory at my door step the morning of my first day of my official maternity leave is an understatement. And even being on a brink of delivery didn’t stop my pussy from throbbing at the sight of Matteo. That long chocolatey hair in a low, loose bun, his beard as perfect as that night and that silver chain peeking from underneath his half-way buttoned shirt same as last time.
And yes, it was doing things to me, it had no business doing. Especially when I have been feeling crappy since last night. Well, it’s more of a permanent type of feeling since I hit the third trimester.
Seems like I have just used up all of those sex memories from that night I used to fuel my horny, pregnant self with for half a year and I’m in sudden need of new ones.
Sure, I’ve heard rumors that Willa’s son is coming back to LC to take over the family bar but with everything going on in my life, I didn’t pay attention to those as much as I should have. Plus, I know how rumors work in this town.
Half were fantasies with a dash of delusion, so I stopped listening to them a while back.
Yet here he is, the man who turned my life around flesh and blood, freaking out on my porch over his impending fatherhood that is not going to happen since the child is obviously not his. Not only did we—indeed—use condoms that night but it has only been about six months from that night, and I would not be this big yet unless—
“Wait, but that was only six months, two weeks and three days ago,” he says, breaking my own thought process, his forehead scrunching up in confusion as he looks me up and down. I want to tell him he is right, but my brain is stuck on the fact that he has the exact number of time memorized just like that. So, he continues coming up with his own ideas without my input. “How come you are so big already?”
Anddddd the adoration of the man stops right there as I arch one, unimpressed eyebrow at him and he pales again, scrambling back up to his feet and pulling me with him. “No, no, I didn’t mean it like that!” he says with a somewhat panicked voice. “You are gorgeous. Not big. Jesus. That’s not—”
Suddenly, that already pale face, pales further as he sucks in quick, deep breath and blinks rapidly. “Wait. Is it twins? Are we having twins?”
Oh my God, the look on his face right now…I am trying so hard not to laugh, I have to purse my lips together because this should not be a hilarious moment. The boy is literally about to pass out, yet I haven’t had so much fun in a while.
Six months, two weeks, and three days as he so kindly pointed out just minutes ago.
“Breathe, Matteo.” He starts talking to himself, closing his eyes, inhaling, and exhaling rapidly. It’s quite a sight to see this big, bearded guy trying to meditate or whatever the heck he is doing. “It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay. You will be a dad. To twins. Soon. It’s all totally fine. So what that you are only twenty-three. At least it’s with Zoe.”
What does “ at least it’s with Zoe ” mean?
He clears his throat and looks at my swollen belly that has been hard as a rock this whole morning. “Um, can I…can I touch it?”
I regard him with pure amusement. I should really say something but let the miserable, pregnant cougar have her bit of fun a few seconds longer. So, I pucker my lips to hide the smile and nod.
Tentatively, very slowly and carefully he extends his tattooed hand toward me until just the tips of his fingers graze my stomach. Just a graze yet it feels like he set me on fire.
No, not fire, it’s like he sets the world right.
Just like back then. Just like a moment ago when I touched his arm. I suck in a sharp breath at the contact, and he retracts his hand right away.
“Did I hurt you?” His eyes are wide.
“No,” I whisper and clear my throat, no longer in a laughing mood because I should not be feeling anything toward him. Nothing at all when I know where I would end up.
Alone and miserable all over again.
Without asking, Matteo places both of his palms around my belly and our gazes lock just for a second, yet it’s enough for me to see the shift within his eyes. There isn’t an ounce of fear in them.
My throat goes dry, and I open my mouth to finally put him—and myself—out of his misery but before I can utter a word, a piercing pain shoots through me, followed by a pop sound and a whole lot of water gushing from between my legs.