Chapter Eighteen
Noah
THE KNOT ON the door is most welcome, giving me a break from my work. I rub my eyes and look away from the computer. I’ve been editing for hours and still have at least a dozen more photos to go through. Stretching, I get up and make my way to the door, wondering why Lauren didn’t use the key I gave her.
Does she not feel comfortable enough to let herself if? If so, isn’t that a problem if we’re going to be living together in a few months?
“You’re not Lauren,” I say when I open the door.
“Hardly,” Melody replies.
I don’t step aside and invite her in. “Can I help you with something?”
She smiles, dark-rimmed eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “I got locked out of my place. Can I wait here until the super brings up a spare key?”
“I’m leaving soon.”
She leans forward and her tits almost fall out of her top. I want to look. Is that bad? “I call bullshit.”
“I’m not bullshitting you. I’m leaving once my girlfriend gets here.”
“You’re still dating that chick with the dogs?”
“I am. Her name is Lauren.”
Melody arches her eyebrows. “I’m surprised.”
“And I’m surprised you still care.”
“I don’t care. What—or who—you do in your spare time is no concern of mine.”
I roll my eyes. Yeah the fuck right. Why else would she be here? She takes a step closer.
“So you’re really not going to let me in?”
“There’s no point. I won’t be here much longer.”
She takes in a deep breath, pushing her tits out. The elevator at the end of the hall dings. I smile as soon as I see a few inches of Lauren’s face, revealed as the metal doors slide open. Her eyes go from me to Melody, and her face falls.
Melody turns, and actually takes a step back in surprise when she sees Lauren.
“What the fuck?” Her hand flies to her mouth and she stifles a laugh. “You two … no way. No fucking way.” She lets out a laugh. “No wonder you keep coming around.”
“Bye, Melody,” I say sternly. She takes a step back, allowing Lauren past. I shut the door as soon as Lauren is inside.
“What was she doing here?” Lauren asks, sliding her purse off her arm. She’s wearing a black dress that’s belted above her belly. Her hair is pulled back into a messy bun and she’s wearing little makeup.
She’s absolutely stunning.
“Nothing,” I say and realize the one-word answer is the worst I could give. “She said she got locked out of her apartment and wanted to stay here until someone let her in. I told her no,” I offer apologetically.
Lauren’s jaw tenses and I wonder if she’s thinking about how Melody and I used to fuck. Because I am, and not in a good way. I feel awkward now, having my girlfriend, mother of my child, and love of my life standing here in front of me. It reminds me how much I don’t deserve her.
I’d take everything back if it meant being with Lauren sooner.
Her lower lip trembles and she looks down at herself. “I’m hideous and huge.” A tear rolls down her face.
“Hey,” I say and rush over, taking her in my arms. “You’re not. Not at all.”
“Yes, I am. Did you see the way she looked at me?” Lauren’s voice is tight as she tries not to cry. I bring her to the couch and pull her into my lap.
“You are beautiful as always.”
“No, I’m not.”
I rub her belly. “You’re carrying my child. What you’re doing is amazing, and you look amazing. I promise. You know I find you hot as hell still. I can prove it to you.” I wiggle my eyebrows. “Want to move this party into the bedroom?”
Lauren smiles. “Kind of. But I want to go shopping too.”
“Then we’ll shop first. Just know I’m going to ravish you when we get back.” I cup her face and kiss her, tasting salty tears on her lips.
“Thanks, Noah.” Her arms wrap around me and the words burn on my tongue. I want to tell her I love you—that I’ve loved her—so fucking much.
But I don’t, because I’m scared. Scared she doesn’t feel the same, that she’ll tell me we’re better off as friends, that she doesn’t think I’m good enough for her and for Ella.
*
“Where do you put all this stuff?” I ask. “It’s so much.”
Lauren smiles. She’s having fun registering items for the baby shower, and is going a little crazy with that scanner if you ask me. “Maybe we don’t use it all at once? Like this play mat thing isn’t until she’s a little older.”
“Right. She’s going to sleep most the day for what, like a month?”
She scans another item. “That’s what my baby book says, but from what I read online, they spend a lot of time crying too.”
I force a smile, deciding to tell her I’m getting terrified to have something so small under my care later. I don’t want to ruin her fun right now.
“Lovely.” I follow her down the aisle.
“Maybe we’ll get lucky and have a newborn that sleeps most of the night.”
“Hopefully. It’s kind of crazy to think you’re in the third trimester already. Crazy, and a little scary.” I pick up a pink and purple baby toy, subconsciously smiling down at it. “What about this?”
“Oh, that’s cute!”
I flip it so Lauren can scan the barcode. She’s twenty-eight weeks along now and getting bigger every week. I’ve never looked at a pregnant woman’s body before, never taken the time to stop and think how incredible the whole thing is. Lauren says she feels like a whale, and I’m not ashamed to admit I’m looking forward to her having her body back, but I find her beautiful and sexy, baby bump and all. She’s growing our child, after all. That’s kind of a big deal.
I run my eyes over her and get hit with desire, brain flashing to her on top of me last night. I don’t know how she doesn’t see how beautiful she is. And now registering for baby stuff is taking way too long. She needs to be on me, under me, fuck, just touching me—now.
“What?” she asks, glancing up into my eyes.
“Nothing,” I say, shaking my head. Nothing, just getting turned on in the middle of fucking Target. “We’re almost done with the list.”
“Good. I have to pee.”
“You always have to pee.”
“Hey, you try having a giant baby inside of you and see how long you can go without peeing.”
I grab her around the waist. “Want another giant thing inside of you?”
She laughs and pushes me away. “Kind of. Yeah, I do. I think the answer will always be yes.”
“It better be.”
She rolls her eyes and laughs. “What’s next?”
I look at the paper. “Bath supplies.”
We head into the next aisle. “It’s a shame your mom had to work and couldn’t make it this weekend.”
“Yeah, a shame.” I don’t even try to hide my sarcasm. Mom picked up an extra shift, and I can’t help feel she did it on purpose to avoid seeing us—again. She sent me an Amazon gift card via email, which pissed me off even though I prefer it. It’s convenient for the both of us, but that’s how it is when you’re mad at someone. Everything they do, no matter how innocent, pisses you the fuck off. Going to the store for a card and the gift card was too much work for her, which to me translates into how little she cares. How little she’s always cared.
Lauren makes a face, one that’s easy to read. She wants to ask me why I don’t like my mother but doesn’t want to offend me. Sometimes she’s too fucking nice. I hate that she holds back on account of not wanting to risk ruffling feathers. Though on the other hand, I don’t want to talk about it. Not now. Or ever.
“I really want a hot dog,” Lauren says. “And a big pretzel with cheese. We need to stop at the cafe on the way out.”
“That’s doable. I haven’t had a big pretzel in years. It sounds good.”
“Doesn’t it? I’m craving salty stuff bad right now.”
“I got something salty for ya.” I put my hands on her waist and she playfully shoves me away.
She takes the list from me, checking things off. I have to admit I admire her organizational skills. I’ve tried being organized before. It just doesn’t happen and sometimes I have a hard time understand how anyone can keep their shit together like that.
“You’re going to be a good mom,” I tell her.
Lauren looks up from the list and smiles. “I hope so. I worry a lot about it. I don’t want to let this kid down. It’s bad enough I didn’t take prenatal vitamins until I was over a month along.”
“The doctor said that wasn’t going to be an issue,” I remind her. “And you seriously need to let that go and not beat yourself up over it. Ella is doing just fine.” I put my hand on her belly.
“Thanks. And you’re going to be a good dad.” Her eyes meet mine and she smiles, honestly believing it.
I smile back, but feel like a fraud. She believes it, but I don’t.