Chapter 18

Aurora

It was hard adjusting to not spending every second of my day with Brendon. I thought that being with him so much would be stressful, that I'd always feel underfoot. I even thought it might cause some sort of stress between us, which was the last thing I wanted.

Of course, I soon realized the opposite to be true. Brendon on tap was my ideal situation, and it was the act of coming home that ended up causing me strife. All I wanted was to wake up to him in the morning and go to sleep with him every night, but I was back on my own again in my own apartment with my own thoughts.

When Brendon invited me over for dinner, saying that he wanted to cook for me since Julian was gone, I was ecstatic. Hell, I was beyond ecstatic. In fact, I forgot about the important news I had to tell him until I was about halfway through curling my hair. Then I remembered it so forcefully that I burned my finger.

I had to tell Brendon tonight. I had to tell him that I was pregnant.

Crap.

I bolted to the bathroom and started running cold water over my finger like I thought relieving the ache of the burn would help with the ache in my gut too. It didn't. Surprise surprise.

My phone buzzed from my bedroom and I hastily wiped my wet hand on my pants before running back into the room and grabbing it. My mom's face filled the screen, and I frowned even as I answered.

"Hello?"

I'd tried to call my mom a couple times since I left, but she never called me back. I couldn't say for sure if she'd been ignoring my calls or if it was simply bad timing and a bad memory on her part, but I had a suspicion it was the case of the former. So why was she calling me now?

"Hello, Aurora. It's your mother."

I rolled my eyes. "I know. I'm a little surprised to hear from you."

"Why should you be? I gave birth to you, did I not?" she asked in a snappy, irritated tone.

How was it that she was the one blatantly ignoring me and yet I was still the asshole?

"It's good to hear from you anyway," I said, glazing over her last comment. "How are things over there?"

"Oh, they're wonderful. Just wonderful."

There was no trace of sarcasm in her tone. No doubt this was some sort of tactic meant to make me homesick. She'd have to try a lot harder than that.

"You know Katy Harrison from down the street's getting married. She and that Tom Benninger fellow. Lots of good, eligible men still here though. And they're all hungry for brides now that they're getting older."

So she wanted to try to lure me home with the prospect of a husband? Fat chance. I already had an amazing boyfriend, even if I might lose him tonight because of my little secret. She would have better luck if she called after our dinner and things hadn’t gone well.

"That's great," I said. "It sounds like nothing's changed."

She didn't miss my dry tone. I heard her sigh, but instead of commenting on it she said, "I miss you, you know."

Silence for a second. Finally, I spoke.

"I miss you too."

"I called because I want to send you a care package and don't have your address there."

Something tugged on my heart, and I clutched a hand to my chest without thinking. Mom and I weren't what I would consider close and never had been, so a gesture as tender as a care package was almost too sweet for me to take. It filled me with conflicting emotions about my life in the city and about what I'd left behind. More than anything, I started to feel a bit guilty.

I gave Mom the address and then got off the phone soon afterward, saying I'd call her soon but that I was just on my way out the door. It wasn't the truth, but I didn't think I could stay on the phone with her any longer without bursting into tears. No matter how close we got, I never wanted to be caught crying in front of her. Especially when I needed her to think that I was strong and in control of my decisions.

After I got off the phone, I took a break from getting ready and poured myself a glass of ice cold water from the fridge. It was only after I'd gotten halfway through it that I realized there was no point in being upset about leaving Bridgefield when I knew I'd done the right thing. I wasn't happy there. More than that, I doubted it would ever be possible for me to be happy there. I was right where I needed to be, and I was doing what I needed to do to be happy. Sort of. The unplanned pregnancy threw a bit of a wrench into the mix but I was going to love my baby and even losing Brendon wouldn't stop me from doing that.

I just had to tell him.

I finished getting ready and grabbed a cab over to Brendon's place. I'd been there a few times since our first clandestine mid-day tryst, but I got overwhelmed by the beauty of it every single time. Everything about the building, built during the peak of New York's art-deco period, reminded me of old world regality. It was timeless, and I could see Brendon living in a place like this well into his eighties, still rocking the bachelor lifestyle he seemed to love.

I couldn't, however, see where we'd fit a baby in this building.

Even with all its many thousands of square feet, I couldn't picture where we could put a crib, a diaper bin, or even a stroller. Or maybe that was just me projecting my worst fears. Who knew.

I reflected on my ride up that I wished I could have told my mom about the pregnancy. I'd been desperate to talk to anybody about it, especially since Amy still hadn't gotten back into service range and I needed someone to tell me everything was going to be okay. Calypso had helped. My mother wouldn't, which was why I didn't tell her in the end.

Brendon greeted me at the door with a huge, shit-eating grin that knocked the breath from my lungs. He pulled me into his arms and laid a wet kiss on my lips.

"Hey, beautiful." He patted my butt and ushered me further into the apartment, closing the door behind me. The smell of tomato and garlic hung in the air, and I inhaled it greedily. My stomach, often conflicted these days, instantly began grumbling and begging for food. At least I wouldn't be throwing up Brendon's home cooked meal tonight. Huzzah.

"It smells delicious in here. What are you making?"

Brendon strode over to the kitchen and stirred a pot on the stove.

He looked up and smiled bashfully. "The only thing I'm any good at making is my mom's famous spaghetti marinara."

I raised my eyebrows. "Your mom has a famous pasta recipe? Aren't you guys Irish?"

He laughed. "Even the Irish love spaghetti."

He was in an exceptionally good mood, which made me nervous as far as my plan for the evening went. Was it better for him to be in a good mood when I told him, or was it just going to make him plummet into anger?

I didn't get much time to think, however, because soon Brendon was pouring me a glass of wine and my heart was racing like crazy in my chest. One glass of wine might not hurt the baby, but I wasn't willing to take the chance.

"Oh, I'm okay," I said.

"You sure?" He furrowed his brow. "Everything okay?"

Maybe this would be a good time to tell him.

My resolve was not so strong. I offered up a weak smile and just said, "I might have one later. My stomach's been a bit unsettled today."

It was a lame excuse but Brendon didn't question it. He went back to stirring his sauce and I went back to quietly castigating myself for my cowardice.

It was one of the nicest dinners we'd ever had together. Maybe the nicest. Although he claimed otherwise, Brendon was a good cook and I thoroughly enjoyed my meal. Afterward, he offered me another glass of wine and I declined again. This time my excuse was that I was too full.

We moved to the couch to watch as the city lights slowly flared on, one by one, and I cuddled up against Brendon's side like I might never get another chance. This was it. I had to tell him now.

Brendon turned his face toward me, lips curved and eyes dreamy and full of light. He looked so handsome. I was always awestruck by his pure, masculine beauty, and he'd already begun kissing me before I had the wherewithal to realize there was something I still needed to tell him.

Brendon's mouth was hot, flavored with the spicy aftertaste of the scotch he'd been enjoying as a digestif. His hands traveled down my back and hauled me up against him until I was practically straddling him, and he held me there as his tongue explored my mouth. I moaned as the familiar sensation of my nerves waking up like brilliant streaks of starlight in the sky washed over me. It was only ever with Brendon that I'd experienced such powerful sexual need awakening, and I suspected it would only ever be with Brendon.

His mouth carved a wicked path down my neck, settling in at the base of my throat to lick and suck as he fell back against the cushions. I couldn't think but to grind against him, lost in the pleasurable haze that descended around us and blocked out the rest of the world. Here, on this sacred couch, there were no obligations.

No fears.

No responsibilities.

There was just us and the passion unfurling between our bodies, and where that passion burned peace followed. His kiss intoxicated me and dragged me down into the furthest depths of my primal mind, reducing my wants and needs to a place beyond words.

Brendon flipped us, guiding himself between my thighs and crushing my chest against his. He was already hard, something I'd come to expect of him in the time we'd spent together, and he ground his length against me with each fervent press of his lips.

My core responded, sizzling with fire and need. I wrapped my legs around his hips and threw my head back. It seemed impossible to feel this erotically charged while we were both fully clothed, but I was turned on to one hundred with no signs of coming down soon. It was probably something to do with hormones, but I wasn't thinking about that. I wasn't thinking about anything.

Brendon's kiss grew hungrier, his movements more frantic. I was glad for it because I soon found that same hunger eating away at my own insides, and when it came, it came so fast and so hard that I considered ripping through his shirt with my teeth just to get to him as quickly as possible.

Brendon sensed my need and pulled back enough to rid both of us of our shirts, not stopping until he sprung my breasts free from their cotton and wire prison. He moaned with delight as he looked over my naked torso, squeezing my breasts and kissing me so hard I felt like my lips would be a big purple bruise in the morning.

"You're so sexy, Aurora."

The hair on my arms and scalp stood up with his whispered hiss in my ear. He moved down to my earlobe and nibbled on it as his hands continued to knead my sensitive flesh, then down to work on the zipper of his pants.

We were going so fast, but our need was fiery and demanded satisfaction. If he was feeling even half as horny as I was, there simply wasn't time to get to the bed. There wasn't time for anything. By the time his cock was out and in his hand, I knew that if I didn't get my pants off and him inside of me in the next thirty seconds, I might collapse in on myself, like a gaping black hole of want.

The removal of the rest of our clothes was a flurry of motion. A somewhat awkward flurry of motion, but we made it in the end and barely had to stop kissing.

"I want you now," I said. "I need you now." I grabbed the base of his cock and directed him toward my slick entrance.

Brendon slammed into the hilt without even giving me a second to breathe.

The mix of pleasure and that sweet, intoxicating pain was exactly what I needed to soothe the overwhelming lust burning under my skin. He gave me everything he had and I gave it back, clawing at his shoulders and crying out with wild abandon. It was the most uninhibited we'd ever been. He thrust, I thrust back. He bit my lip, I bit his neck. And when he said filthy, dirty things in my ear, I did my best to return them.

"You're so fucking tight," he growled. "I could fuck you all day."

"I could be fucked by you all day," I parried. "I love it when you stretch me wide like this."

He groaned and drove deeper, harder. The couch squeaked in protest with each dive of his hips but neither of us were listening. We were lost in each other and in our own pursuit of pleasure, and nothing short of gale force winds or some other natural disaster could heave us off course now.

Brendon devoured my mouth but my kisses became weaker as my pleasure rose. I was unable to focus on returning the kiss, unable to focus on anything but the blooming knot of heat in my core that grew and tightened with each roll of my hips. The angle of his body meant his pubic bone ground against my clit, and the little bud was swollen and full of need and wouldn't last much longer.

I barely had time to register that I was climbing my peak when it hit me. The blast would have been enough to knock me down if I'd been standing. My whole body slackened with the release, falling back in exhaustion against the couch cushions as undulating waves of ecstasy pulsed through me. It took me a few seconds to realize that I'd forgotten to breathe, and when I started again it was with a great gulp.

Brendon's stubbled cheek scratched against my neck as he buried his face in his shoulder and drove in one final time. He bit down on the cleft of my shoulder as he did, and it felt so primal and sexy that another orgasm snapped in my belly and sent me reeling all over again. I screamed, but it sounded like it was coming from someone else and not from me. I could almost hear my impassioned cry echoing around the apartment as I came back to earth. I kissed his neck as he breathed, still, licking up some of the salt like it was my favorite treat.

Brendon slowly untangled his body from mine, sliding over into the crevice at the back of the couch and pulling me over on top of him. Once I was settled with my head over his heart, we lay there in silence together. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, not at first. And even when it became one, I was the only one who was uncomfortable. And the reason I was uncomfortable was because I knew that I had to tell him now. If he kicked me out, so be it.

"Hey, Brendon." I tipped my head up to look at him.

Brendon's smile was so warm that I immediately looked away. "Yes?"

"I..." I didn't know how to say it. Did I just come out with it? Did I sugar coat it? How did people make announcements like this?

"Can I say something first?" Brendon asked.

His voice was soft, softer I think than I'd ever heard it. I returned my gaze to his, curious to see what had him so sweet.

"Go for it."

He lifted a hand to my face, drawing a strand of my hair behind my ear. Goosebumps ran down my spine and I closed my eyes to lean into his touch.

"I love you, Aurora Frayser."

My eyes snapped open and I stared at him in dismay. Not in dismay at hearing him say that he loved me—that was wonderful. It was a dream come true. I was dismayed because I knew now that I was more terrified than ever of losing him. How could I tell him when it would completely ruin this perfect moment?

Brendon must have misinterpreted my expression to mean that I didn't feel the same way. I saw the disappointment wash over his features for less than a second, but by the time I opened my mouth to say something—anything so that he'd know I held deep feelings for him too—his expression was back to warm and loving. He stopped my words with a finger to my lips.

"Hush," he urged. "Don't say anything. I don't need you to say anything. I just wanted you to know how I feel, and that I've never felt that way about anyone. You're very special to me, Aurora."

He moved his finger, and I bent my head to kiss his chest so he wouldn't see the tears welling in my eyes.

"You're very special to me too," I whispered against his skin.