“I am so sorry, please let me explain,” he says, taking a step forward.
I close my eyes for a moment. Seeing him and hearing his voice has my mind and body breaking down. This man can affect my body like no one else, like nothing else. He can give me the most mind-blowing pleasure, but he can also hurt me so deeply, that it feels like I would rather die than go a second without him. Hating him would be easy, but loving him, loving him is my weakness in all of this, and there is nothing I can do to shake that love away.
Against my better judgment, I blink my eyes open. He’s still standing there looking at me like I’m his world, but how can I be his world when I’ll never be in his future.
“Please, Bailey!” He begs like he is about to drop down to his knees in front of me, and part of me hopes he does. He has no idea how much this hurts me. To have fallen in love with him, my best friend, only for him to end up knocking someone else up.
“I don’t know what Kelly told you, but it’s not true. I swear, it’s not true. I didn’t get her pregnant. The baby isn’t mine, Bailey. I swear to God. I’m not lying to you, I’ve never lied to you.” Sadness cuts deeply through the air.
I stare at his face, watching him as he speaks every word, waiting for him to give me any indication that he is lying. Years of friendship lets you get in tune with a person’s body, and I’d know if he was lying, which he is not.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I narrow my eyes. “It’s not yours?”
Relief floods his features. “No, it’s not.”
“But you slept with her?”
“Yes.” He sighs, looking as if he would rather eat glass than admit it to me. “I did, one time, months ago but I slept with her almost three weeks after she had already gotten pregnant… and of course I used a condom. But even if I hadn’t, I couldn’t have knocked her up when she was already pregnant with someone else’s baby.”
Okay... okay, I can handle this. He’s not the father of her baby, and I can’t really be mad at him for sleeping with someone months before we got together, it’s not like I didn’t know about the things that he did.
This takes most of the stress off of our newly formed relationship but not fully since I have a secret of my own to tell him. But assuming his reaction to this woman’s announcement, I’m unsure of how he’ll take it. Taking a step back, giving him enough room to come in.
“Okay, you can come in.” The light that was dimming out in his eyes just a moment ago, reappears and he all but rushes into the house, his arms wrapping around me, his face buried into the crook of my neck.
Sucking in a greedy breath of air, I let his scent flow into my nostrils. I can’t help but wrap my own arms around him, my hands fisting his shirt, mapping out the hard planes of his body through the cotton fabric. God, I missed him so much. Missed how he smells, how he feels. I’ve missed his voice and how he makes me laugh. Everything about him I’ve missed.
“I’m so tired, I’ve barely slept. I couldn’t, not without you by my side. I was worried sick, Sunflower. I didn’t know what she said to you and…” He’s rambling now. His emotions spiraling out of control and the desperation in his voice crushes me.
“Come on, let’s go to bed,” I whisper into his shirt. “We can talk about the rest of this tomorrow.” And we will. I want to know what happened, how he figured out that the baby wasn’t his. Knowing how much of a stand-up man Elijah is, I don’t doubt one bit that he would step up to the plate to care for a child that was his, so something tells me he discovered something.
“You mean here? In your bed… in your old bedroom?” He leans back and closes the door, locking the deadbolt into place before turning back around to face.
“Is that weird? Would you rather go back to your place instead?”
“No-no... I’m just excited. That’s like a teenage fantasy brought to life.” A throat clears behind us, and both Elijah and I turn around at the noise to find my father standing on the stairs staring down at us. His eyes narrow on Elijah and a small giggle seeps from my lips.
“And I’m perfectly fine with keeping it as a fantasy and nothing more,” Elijah says, looking very much like a boy scout.
“Smooth recovery,” I whisper.
“You are adults, you can sleep in her room together, but for God’s sake, keep in mind that I am down the hall, and I might be old but I ain’t dead yet.” There’s a grin on my father’s lips when he turns and disappears back up the stairs. The door to his room, opening and closing a moment later.
Looking up at Elijah, I see the worn exhaustion of the last couple of days over taking him. It looks like he is about to pass out, and there’s no way I’ll get him upstairs if he does. So taking his hand into mine, I start to pull him up the stairs. “Let’s go to sleep, big guy.”
He nods and follows me, no fussing or fighting. As soon as we arrive in my room, he starts undressing, peeling off his shirt and pants until he’s down to nothing but his boxers. My mouth waters and I inconspicuously wipe at my bottom lip to ensure I’m not actually drooling. My hormones are running on overdrive right now.
I let him lie down first before I climb onto the bed. It’s only a twin and Elijah is not small by any means, so he alone takes up most of the space. Luckily, I usually sleep half on top of him anyway. Once he’s situated, I make my move, settling onto his body, my limbs slung over his and my face pressed to his chest.
Home. That’s what he feels like. The one place unlike anywhere else in the world.
The sound of his steady heartbeat fills my ear and for the first time in three days, I feel whole again, like the missing piece inside me has been found. I’m so content and happy right now that I almost forget about the secret harbored deep inside me.
What is he going to say? How is he going to react?
I want to tell him tonight, but it doesn’t seem right. Heck, I haven’t even taken a test yet. I tell myself that I don’t need to. I already know what it’s going to say, but I could be wrong. I’m not the gambling type and I would much rather speak the truth than a lie.
Tomorrow, I tell myself… tomorrow I’ll tell him.
The next morning turns out to be much less awkward than I expected. My dad had already made a pot of coffee by the time we made it downstairs. We shared breakfast together before my dad headed off to play golf, leaving Elijah and me to enjoy a second cup of joe outside on the back porch. It was strange being back home and reminded me of my teenage years I spent in this house after we moved out of the neighborhood Elijah’s family lives in. It also made me miss my mom.
“You remember that time I made you eat a worm?” Elijah asks smugly as if he’s reliving the memory in his mind.
Taking a sip of my coffee, I nod, thankful that he is taking my mind off sad memories. “How could I forget it. You basically forced it down my throat. I should’ve known then that you would be nothing but trouble.”
“Seriously?” Elijah lifts a brow in disbelief. “You pushed me out of a treehouse and broke my arm. I’m pretty sure eating a worm wasn’t even close to a fair trade. Do you have any idea how bad that cast itched that summer?”