“That’s fine. I’ll figure it out,” I tell her.
“Okay, so I’m going to take the rest of it up to her room, since we can’t really do the laundry without detergent.”
I follow behind her like a lost puppy. The reality of the situation is I would follow her anywhere. It’s wrong on so many levels, and I could never admit it to anyone but myself. If McKinley Mills ever needs anything, I’m her guy.
Once we reach the baby’s room, she busies herself placing lotions and creams on the shelf below the changing table. There are a few packs of diapers and she stores them in the drawer below. She puts the handful of toys in a white basket with a liner the same color as the walls and places the lone teddy bear in the corner of the crib. I watch her as she works, letting her do her thing.
“There,” she says, folding the last bag and placing it inside the other one. “Now we have a better idea of what you need for her. This will make planning a lot easier.” She moves toward me.
As she shifts closer, I snake my arm around her waist and pull her into me. I want to kiss her. I want to kiss her so fucking bad, but I know when I do, I won’t be able to stop. Instead, I mimic our earlier embrace at the airport and bury my face in her neck. I feel her arms wrap around my waist and it takes every ounce of willpower I have to not say, ‘Fuck it.’
Realizing I’m still holding her, I reluctantly back away. She looks up at me, those brown eyes are filled with question. I gently cup her cheek and run the pad of my thumb across her lips. “Thank you for everything, McKinley. I don’t know how I would have gotten this far without you.”
Bringing her hand to my cheek, she mimics my actions. “I wanted to. I’m so damn proud of you, Evan Chamberlin.” She stands on her tiptoes and places a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth. Before she has a chance to pull away, I wrap my arms back around her and hold her close. Just hold her.
The ringing of one of our cell phones downstairs has her pulling away. “You’re going to be the best damn daddy to this little girl.” She squeezes my arm as she walks around me and heads down the steps.
I stand still, missing the heat of her body against mine. I want to chase after her and beg her to stay. I wait too long, battling with my emotions. I hear the soft click of the front door and the sound of her engine starting.
She’s gone.
I meant what I said, I don’t know how I would be this far, be this ready for my daughter to come into this world, without her help. I need her help. I can’t risk sleeping with her and fucking it all up. I would lose her and more than likely, my best friend in the process. My focus needs to be on my daughter, on making sure I have everything she will need for the day I bring her home---just me and her. As bad as I want McKinley at this moment, I know I can’t have her.
I hope I didn’t ruin the friendship we’ve built.
Chapter 14
McKinley
I’m trying to edit last night’s session, but I keep getting distracted thinking about Evan. Misty has a doctor’s appointment today and I know Evan is nervous. He says she’s not very big and the doctor has been on her about eating more, that the baby could have a low birth weight. It doesn’t help matters that she’s still hanging out with that Tom character. I can see how much it’s hurting him, not because he loves her, but because he’s afraid for his daughter. He’s constantly stressing over where she is and what she’s doing. What the people she has chosen to surround herself with are doing.
My phone rings and Olivia’s name lights up my screen. “Hello.”
“Kinley, hey girl! What do you have going on tonight?” she asks.
“Nothing really. Why, what’s up?”
“Mike has a new band coming to the Tavern tonight. Come with me?”
A night out sounds perfect to me. I haven’t really been out since the night Evan told us he was going to have a little girl. “I’m in,” I tell her.
“Yes! Okay, do you want me to pick you up or do you just want to meet there?”
“I’ll just meet you there. What time?” I ask. If I drive, I won’t be stuck there all night. Olivia will more than likely drink herself into a coma and Mike will have to drive her home.
“Seven, sound okay?”
“Yeah, sounds good. I’ll see you then.”
As soon as I hit end, my phone alerts me to a message. It’s a voicemail. Tapping on the call list, I see Evan tried to call. I wonder why it didn’t alert me he was calling. I click on listen and hear his deep voice come through the speaker.
“Hey, Kinley, it’s Evan. Uh, Misty showed up for the appointment, but her weight is extremely low. The baby is measuring three weeks smaller than she should be. I was just calling because I promised you I would. Talk to you soon.”
My heart breaks for him. I start to call him back, but decide maybe he needs a friend right now. I quickly save my edits, grab my keys and my phone, then head out the door. It’s a short drive to get to Evan’s place. Parking beside his truck, I make my way to the front porch. Even though I have a key, I still knock on the door. I don’t live here and Evan’s not my boyfriend. I feel like I would be abusing the privilege if I just barge on in.
I raise my hand to knock and the door flies open. Evan stands still, just watching me. I don’t know what to say. I can see the worry written all over his face. I wish I could throat punch Misty for the shit she’s putting him through. Evan holds out his hand and without hesitation, I accept it, allowing him to pull me into the house.
As soon as the door closes, he pulls me into a tight hug. I can feel the tension in his stance. Today’s visit worries him---as it should. This is his little girl we’re talking about.
I wish I could make it better, take this worry off his shoulders. He’s doing this alone. I hold him tight, trying to show him I’m here for him. If I had my way, I would never let go.
Evan finally pulls away from the hug, laces his fingers through mine, and leads me to the living room. He lays down on the couch and gives my hand a gentle tug, letting me know he wants me to lie down with him. No words are said as I silently nod and settle in front of him, my back to his front. He wraps his arms around me and holds tight. I cover his hands with mine, wanting that connection, to let him know I’m here, to offer him some type of comfort.
We lie there together in the silence of the room. My fingers trace the corded muscles of his arms, which are wrapped securely around me. I’m aware of every breath he takes. At first, they are quick, but fade into long even breaths. This is when I let myself relax, knowing he has.
“I’m worried about my little girl,” he says softly. “She’s not taking care of herself, Kinley. I don’t know what to do. The baby is measuring small and the doctor keeps warning her she needs to eat more. She gives him a blank stare and I just want to shake her,” he says in a rush.
I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything. I don’t think I’ve ever said I hate someone, but in this moment, I hate Misty. I hate how she wants nothing to do with Evan and this baby girl she’s carrying. I hate her because she’s not taking care of herself and she’s putting Evan’s daughter in danger. I hate her because she’s the one carrying his baby.