Jade
The alarm startles the hell out of me, blaring its horrendous scream that it does every morning. Except this morning, I didn’t want to hear it. I slap the shit out of it and groan, stretching out. The emptiness of the bed jolts me right back into reality, and I jerk to see the empty spot where Zach slept. A sad titter strangles my throat. “Surprise. Surprise.”
I slip out of the bed and, like a zombie, head for the shower. Steam billows out when I open the door, blessed with the sexiest sight of Zach. He’s naked, wet, and in my shower. A giddiness takes over my body and I all but want to clap out of excitement that he’s still here.
A tan silhouette of a muscular wall, blurry from the steam built on the shower door, notices me. He wipes a circle in the glass and moves to take a peek. A smile erupts, all toothy and happy. “Morning. Hope you don’t mind, but I needed a shower before work.”
“You don’t have any clean clothes here.” That is the first thing I say? Like a damn teenage girl seeing a sexy man for the first time. I want to hide my face from embarrassment.
He splashes water underneath his neck. “I know.” He turns off the water, opens the door, and sniffs his flexing bicep. “And I’m going to smell like a hot ass chick all day too.”
My eyes roam over the glorious naked sight. He’s always been built—not too big, not too small. His chest is defined, his stomach flat with dips outlining his six-pack. His perfect, smooth, sexy skin bears no scars, no marks except for the tattoo on his right forearm. The whole gang of boys went the same day to get their tattoos. My mother was livid at all of them when they came home and showed off their work. Zach tatted up his entire right forearm—an eye of providence is surrounded by relaxed leaves and melts into a skull. He’s always told me the eye was mine, but I say the resemblance is just coincidence.
“You gonna stand there and ogle me, or are you going to toss me that towel?” His tone is low, sexy, and deliberate.
I throw the towel, keeping distance between us. He smirks while wiping off his face, and before my arousal gets the best of me and I jump him, I walk away. He has that effect on me—spontaneously combustible. If I don’t walk away, the both of us will be naked and having wild sex. And more sex means one of us will be late, if not both. It also means more feelings for him to rustle up.
I grab the toaster and two pieces of bread, slamming them into it. The past two weeks, everything has made me want to puke except for toast and just a little bit of butter. I just have to get past the horrible smell of it as it cooks. The aroma does not match the glorious taste of it.
Zach struts his sexy ass into the kitchen and leans his hip on the corner of the counter, watching me set everything up. “I’m going to be busy for the rest of the week, so I’m not going to make it back here.”
“I didn’t expect you to,” I say with a whole lot of attitude.
“I know, but there’s nothing wrong with telling you how my week will be.”
Frustrated, I sigh, slamming down the butter and knife. “Don’t mess us up. You keep doing your thing and I do mine. We’ve done this for years and it’s been perfect.”
But has it really? Broken hearted each time one of us walks away from our passionate fucks…
Stepping in behind me, he splays his hands over my stomach. “That’s before I knocked you up.”
“This baby isn’t going to change a thing between us,” I scathe, twisting out from under his hands. “Nothing is going to change between us. Anyway, it’ll help you out. I’ve heard women love men with babies.” That hurt to say and it surprises me.
His eyebrows dig deep. “You keep telling yourself that and you’ll be highly disappointed. It changes everything between us.”
“No, Zach. It doesn’t,” I challenge him with an annoyed stare.
The corner of his mouth quirks up, and he grabs a water out of the fridge. “I’ll call you later.”
I all but want to stomp my foot. “No. You won’t,” I blast. “You think just because I’m pregnant it gives you the right to barge into my life and make yourself at home?” God, that sounded ridiculous, but I can’t control my mouth. “One you didn’t want before? You and I,” I point between us. “We’re nothing but parents. There won’t be a relationship.”
The argument is in his eyes, darkness and disagreement clouding the brown. He blinks, abandoning it, kisses my forehead, and offers a small, tired smile. “We’ll see about that.”
The moment the door shuts behind him, I do stomp my foot and grit my scream with my fists at my side.
“Is it safe now?” Freya whispers from the hallway.
“Yes,” I snap.
“Man, you two are heated as always.” She strides into the kitchen and grabs a bottle of orange juice.
The toaster scares the ever-living fuck out of me when it spits out the bread. I yelp and slap it across the counter, but it stops short from falling off the counter, saved by its cord. I drop my elbows to the cold laminate counter top and my head follows into my hands.
“You alright?” Freya asks carefully.
I jerk my head up, mad as hell. “There’s no way in hell I’m going to fall for Zachary Calloway’s callous ways again. Ever! He’s broken me once. Never again, dammit. I’m only a fool once.”
Her eyes are wide, mouth gaped open. “He only said he’d call you.”
I scowl. “He’s sweet, but for how long? I know how he is. I fucking know him!” I scream and then stomp off to my bedroom, abandoning my food and everything else.
I know him…and it hurts because I know how bad a heartbreak labeled by him feels. I’ve been there…and I’m not planning on going back.