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I tried to focus on my form, but I was already past my limit. Each punch of my fist sent a jolt up my arm.
The casting director had loved me for the lead role in their movie, Uncaged, but he needed me to put on a lot of muscle. The main character was an MMA fighter, which meant I had three months to get into the best shape of my life. It wasn’t much time, but it would have to be enough. I had a dietician to help me drop fat and build muscle, and Stanley was working my ass off. It had only been a week and already I’d noticed a difference in my body.
If I thought acting was tough before, I was sorely mistaken. This movie was like nothing I’d ever done before, and for the first time in years, I felt challenged by a project. It was… exciting.
“You’re getting sloppy,” Stanley cursed.
“Sorry,” I wheezed, but he waved off the apology.
“Take a break. None of us will get paid if you get injured.”
He headed across the gym and disappeared into his office, and I managed to hold it together until he was out of sight. As soon as the door closed behind him, though, I collapsed onto a bench and bent over, forearms braced on my knees, gulping to catch my breath. Gods, I thought I was in decent shape, but was I ever wrong. This was brutal.
I drank half my water and squirted some over my head, then propped myself against the wall and closed my eyes to enjoy some much-needed rest. Nothing could’ve perked me up… except for the ping of my phone. It was the tone I’d give to Arlo.
Suddenly, I found I had just enough energy left to drag my bag over and dig out my phone. The text said simply, Thank you for dinner. I miss you too.
As if I would let it stop there. I immediately hit the video chat button. It rang, then rang again, and as oxygen-starved as I’d been a moment ago, I now found myself holding my breath, praying he would pick up.
At long last, the screen lit up, and there was Arlo’s beautiful face. I released a sigh, the aches and pains no longer front and center in my mind. Now, there was only Arlo. “Hey,” I breathed.
“H-hi,” he said uneasily. “I just wanted to say thanks.” He looked down at his lap, his hair falling forward from where he’d tucked it behind his ear, and the angle accentuated deep shadows under his eyes. Was it just the lighting?
“Are you doing okay?” I asked. “You look tired.”
He laughed without humor, his gray eyes filled with storm clouds. “Yeah, I’m not sleeping well for some odd reason,” he said with more than a little sarcasm that went over my head. What was I missing? “What about you? You look… sweaty.”
Now it was my turn to laugh. “Yeah, I’m at the gym. I took a role in a new movie. Arlo, it’s amazing. I never would’ve taken this chance if it weren’t for you. I’ll tell you all about it, except…” I paused, gnawing on the inside of my cheek. I had to ask or I’d always wonder what-if. What was the worst that could happen?
I sighed. “Arlo, look, I’m sorry. I never should’ve asked you to pose as my boyfriend, but I’m really glad that I did. You’re incredible. You’re funny and smart, and you’re adventurous and playful. You’re pretty much my perfect partner, and I’d be a fool not to try to keep you.” Gods, I wished we were having this conversation in person. I wanted to pull him into my arms and kiss every inch of his body. “Please, Arlo. I can’t let you go.”
Arlo’s mouth dropped open for a second before he finally composed himself. “But what about your reputation? I’m back working at the club. People will talk.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Oh, that ship has long since sailed. People are already talking. Haven’t you heard? I’m damaged goods.”
He smirked, shaking his head. “Nah, everyone loves a bad boy.”
Pausing, I tried not to let that tiny spark of hope turn into a bonfire. “What about you? Do you love a bad boy?”
Even over the video connection I heard the way his breath caught and stuttered. “Would it be so bad if I did?” he asked shakily.
“Not bad at all. Especially since this bad boy wants to do bad things to you.” It wasn’t just the naughty, dirty things, though. I wanted to do the sweet things too. I wanted to sleep wrapped around him, wake up next to him. Not just feed him my cock, but also to cook for him. Watch him dance for me, but also just see him smile and laugh. It was like this omega was made just for me, and I wanted to share my life with him.
Arlo smiled briefly before looking away again, a crease forming between his brows. “Just one problem with that.”
“Just one?” I teased. As long as that one thing wasn’t that he didn’t want me, I saw no reason why we couldn’t get past it.
He cleared his throat. “We might need to keep things slightly tamer for the next, oh, seven months or so.”
“Seven months,” I repeated, confused. “That’s oddly… specific…” I trailed off as the dots connected in my mind. “Arlo?”
A single tear dripped from his lashes. “I’m pregnant.”
“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say.
He closed his eyes in a long blink then pushed on. “You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want. You never signed up for this, I know, but I want to keep the baby. I don’t have any expectations of you.” A long moment of silence passed between us, and he started to fidget.
I gripped the edge of the bench hard enough for my knuckles to creak in protest. A baby? I was going to be a father? Just when I had finally come to grips with being the Hollywood pariah, and suddenly, my reputation seemed to matter all over again, but in a much more profound way. My son or daughter was going to grow up hearing the rumors. What would they think of me? Would I become nothing more than an embarrassment? A failure? Would it be better for me to leave the parenting to Arlo, simply support financially from afar? Or could I raise them and love them with such ferocity that nothing they heard could touch them.
