Forever with You

Though when I left a few hours ago, I could tell she had visions of onesies dancing in her head as she stood at the door, holding Loki in her arms.

My apartment was chilly when I stepped inside. Taking my bag to my bed, I dropped it off and then turned around, heading for the thermostat in the hallway. I cranked it up and then ate the cold-cut sub I’d picked up on the way back.

When it was close to one, I picked up my phone and brought it to the couch with me. I figured Nick had worked last night and I hoped that I wasn’t about to wake him up with my text. Of course, I could call him, but that would seem odd since neither of us had ever called one another before, and I could imagine him pushing until I told him what was up over the phone.

Hey, you around?

I winced after I sent the text, because how lame was Hey when I was about to deliver news he could not have ever expected. A handful of moments passed before I got a response.

I thought you didn’t like me anymore.

He had to be talking about the fact I’d ignored his last text. I was about to respond but he beat me to it.

I’ve been living in this dark, dark place.

My brows rose.

Another text came through. Not eating. Not sleeping.

“What the . . . ?” I whispered.

So, so sad. I shaved my head bald.

There was a pause. I’m totally just kidding.

A startled laugh erupted.

And all of that was probably creepy, huh? Yeah, I’m here. What’s up?

Despite everything, I smiled as I shook my head. He was . . . Nick was a handful. I finally sent him back a text. Is there any way I can see you today? I paused and then added, It’s important.

Several moments passed before I got a response. Sure. I can be there around three?

I’d texted back letting him know that was okay, and the next two hours were filled with antsy pacing. When he knocked on my door, a few minutes past three, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I hurried to the door, opening it.

Seeing Nick after almost two weeks had passed was like laying eyes on him the first time. Dark hair brushed his forehead, the ends curling slightly. His hair was growing, I realized. Those light green eyes were warm and curious as they drifted over my face, and his smile was lopsided. The white thermal he wore stretched over his broad shoulders, and as my gaze dipped, I could see that his hard chest was outlined. He had to have one hell of a workout plan, but I wasn’t sure how he stayed in shape.

I was pregnant with . . . his kid, and I hardly knew anything about him.

God, that was like dunking your face in ice water.

“Hey,” he said, stepping inside. “Sorry I’m late. There was an accident. Took a while to get around it.”

“It’s okay.” I closed the door, ignoring my pounding heart. “Would you like something to drink?”

His curious gaze stayed with me. “Sure. What do you have?”

“Um. Soda. OJ.” I started for the fridge, wishing I had something harder for him to drink. “I have sweet tea.”

“That’ll work.”

Busying myself with getting him a glass, I tried to act normal. “Did you work last night?”

“Yeah.” Without looking at him, I knew he was just outside the kitchen, watching me. “I got off at one. Right now, I’m only working Thursday through Saturday.”

“Is that enough hours?” I faced him, and sort of wished I hadn’t asked that. Then again, it was sort of necessary. “I mean, Roxy works four days there, doesn’t she? Ten hour shifts.”

“She does.” He took the drink, eyeing me. “I only need to work those days right now.”

What did that mean? I knew Roxy made decent money bartending, but she also did graphic design and that kind of stuff on the side. How much money was Nick bringing in if he only needed to work three days? Or maybe he didn’t need to work a lot because he could still live at home with his parents, for all I knew.

Oh shit. What if he still lived at home?

I recalled him telling me that he had a college degree, so why was he working at a bar, only three days a week? God, I had so many questions.

“Did you call me over to talk about my hours at the bar?” he asked, his lopsided grin spreading.

“No. I . . .” I cleared my throat as I slipped past him and walked to the couch, trying to clear my thoughts. He followed, sitting down on the edge. “That’s not the reason why I asked you to come over.”

His brows rose slightly as he took a sip of his tea. “I got to admit, the anticipation is killing me.”

I ran my hands down my denim clad thighs to keep them from shaking. I figured the best way to tell Nick would be like ripping a Band-Aid off. Make it quick and as painless as possible. My throat tightened. “I don’t know how to tell you this.” Pausing, I looked over at him. The easy grin had slipped a notch. “I’m . . . I’m pregnant.”

There. I said it.

The grin was completely gone from his face and he was staring at me like I’d spoken an entirely different language. I saw his hand spasm around the glass. He didn’t speak, but since I got the most important words out, there it was, like a plug had been yanked out of my throat.

“According to the tests I took, I’m around five weeks pregnant, which makes sense timing wise,” I continued in a rush. “I have a doctor’s appointment on Thursday, at noon, and I’m guessing they will confirm what I already know.”

Nick’s mouth moved for a few seconds but there were no immediate sounds. “I used a condom.” Those four words were hoarsely spoken. “I always use a condom.”

The muscles in my back stiffened as something I’d never even thought of just occurred to me. What if he didn’t believe he was the father? After all, what reason did he have, given how we got together? My heart started to pound. “I know, but the condom had to have broken, and looking back, it did feel . . . different afterward. I haven’t been with anyone else since you and it had been like six months before you. I take birth control pills, but when I was getting ready to move, I missed some,” I rambled on. “I didn’t pay any attention to it, because I wasn’t with anyone until . . . until you.”

Nick looked away as he set his barely touched drink on the end table. “You’re sure you’re pregnant?”

“I took three tests.” I waited for him to ask if I was sure he was the father. That question would sting, but I expected it, and couldn’t really blame him for it.

“Oh, shit.” He pushed to his feet, thrusting a hand through his hair. “Oh, shit.”

“That pretty much sums it up.”

Nick glanced down at me, his pupils dilated, and then he looked away. He walked toward the door, and for a moment my heart stopped. I thought he was leaving, but he spun around. Pacing. He was pacing. “How long have you known? Is that why you didn’t return my text last week?”

His question caught me off guard. “I took the tests last Sunday—a week ago. I didn’t answer your text, because I . . . well, honestly, I hadn’t wrapped my head around it then. I didn’t know what to say to you.”

He faced me, his lips thin. “You should’ve told me the moment you found out.”

I jolted. Of all the things I expected him to say, that hadn’t been it. “I needed to talk to my mom first.”

Nick blinked, obviously surprised. He opened his mouth and then gave a little shake of his head. Lifting his hand, he rubbed the heel of his palm across his chest. I hoped he wasn’t having a heart attack. I kind of felt like I might have one.

“I’m sorry,” I said, because I didn’t know what else to say.

He turned away and tipped his head back, hands at his hips. “All right. I wasn’t expecting this. I need a moment.”

Understandable. I pulled my legs up, tucking them close to my chest as I rested my chin on my knees. I had an idea what he must be thinking. Lots of confusion and shock, I imagined. I was still shocked and I’d known for a week.