AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Soon, the pit is packed, and all the seats in the venue are filled up, too. As the lights go completely dark and the stage starts to buzz with the first notes of Astral Velvet’s opening song, my heart pounds harder and harder in my chest.
And then the lights begin to glow on stage—first illuminating the drummer, Franz, and then the keyboardist, Lars. Then the bassist, Colin.
When the final light illuminates Devon, it’s like I forget how to breathe.
He’s standing at the front of the stage, head dipped and eyes closed as he listens to his bandmates play the opening bars of their first song. From where I’m standing in the crowded pit, I can see Devon’s expression clearly. He looks lost in the music, deep in it, submerged inside it.
God, he’s even more gorgeous in person than I expected. His dark hair is swept over to the side. His black t-shirt clings to his muscled, tattooed arms. His jeans hang on him just right.
As the intro of the song swells, Devon’s lips part. He sings the first lyrics of the song softly, slowly. And then he lifts his head, and opens his eyes, and the whole crowd goes nuts. For the next three and a half minutes, the rock song thunders in our ears, colored lights flashing and pulsing on stage in sync with the music.
The sound rides through me. Fills me, moves me. I’m being jostled and squeezed by the others in the pit, but I don’t even care, I’m so lost in the experience of hearing one of my favorite songs live.
As the song ends, all the girls around me start screaming and calling out to him. I love you, Devon! Marry me! I want to have your babies!
Devon breaks into a grin.
“I love you, too, sweetheart,” he says into the mic, his voice reverberating through the concert venue. Screams rise up again as he peels off his shirt and throws it into the crowd, revealing a tattooed chest that’s chiseled as fuck and glowing with sweat.
And all I can do is keep staring at him, in a trance, my heart feeling like it’s going to explode.
2
KACI
PRESENT DAY
Why can’t I click the damn button?
I sink back against my couch and let out a groan, frustrated with myself to no end. I’ve been sitting here for half an hour, staring at the screen of my laptop, on which the most important email of my life is waiting for me to engage with it.
All I have to do is click the bright blue button in the email. One click. That’s it.
But I can’t do it.
Subject: Welcome to Seeds of Life, Kaci. Your Journey to Parenthood Starts Here!
Dear Miss Winters,
Thank you for your interest in Seeds of Life. We’re delighted to inform you that your application has been approved, granting you access to our comprehensive online database of donor profiles.
Please click the button below to create an account. Once logged in, you will have full access to the database. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to reach out to our support team. We’re here to help every step of the way.
The button centered below the message gleams as my cursor hovers over it. I’ve never seen a more clickable-looking button in my life. But I still can’t click it. It’s like I’m too scared to, even though that doesn’t make any sense.
I push myself up onto my feet and start pacing around my living room, feeling jittery and annoyed.
“Come on, Kaci,” I tell myself. “This is what you want. This is what you’ve been planning your entire life around. Think about all the overtime you’ve worked. All the money you’ve saved up. All the research and doctor appointments and all the hours you’ve spent thinking this through. This is what you want. So just do it already.”
About a year ago, shortly after I turned twenty-eight, I came to terms with the fact that my life wasn’t turning out how I always envisioned it would. I wasn’t anywhere close to finding the love of my life, and over a decade of dating had left me with a pile of evidence that there wasn’t a perfect—or even a good—match out there for me.
I didn’t want to believe it was true, but what evidence did I have to the contrary? Absolutely zilch.
The message from the universe was clear: I was destined to do life solo.
At first, that felt heartbreaking. No husband, no kids. Then I realized that the second half of that equation didn’t necessarily have to be true. I could still have kids. Or at least one kid. I was a self-sufficient, capable, independent woman. I could do it on my own.
Or rather, I could do it with a little help from a sperm bank.
