Page 45 of Collide

“I…” I want to marry you. I don’t want you to run away from me. “I miss you.” Her eyes widen.

“I’ve missed you, too.” The softening of her expression and her voice draws my lips back to her. We kiss for several minutes, soaking up one another until I realize how cold her cheeks are.

“We need to get you home, but first, dinner. Are you hungry?”

“Always.” She laughs, and a weight lifts off my shoulders as I swing my arm around her shoulders and tuck her into my side.

20

IVY

For two and a half months, Gage is a doting boyfriend. He picks me up from classes and takes me to my clinicals at a school for the hearing impaired. Gage tells me I’m an angel for the work I want to do to bring music to those with difficulty hearing it, but I have my reasons for working with those differently abled. It’s the one thing I keep from him.

We date. We talk. We learn about each other, and we share numerous bits of sexy time.

But he never spends the night.

We have too many close calls, he warns, and he’s afraid an overnight would be more temptation than he can handle. He has the patience of a saint regarding sex with me, and while I still whine about us not doing the deed, I can’t complain about the multiple orgasms he gives me.

As winter turns to spring, there isn’t much difference in the temperature in Seattle. There’s still a wet chill to the air, and I’m ready for a little break in my studies and some warm sunshine. Fortunate for me, the spring break of my students aligns with the campus break, so I’m heading home—California. My mother’s place is almost as cold as Seattle and very sterile. It’s not the reason I want to get home, though.

Tommy bought me a plane ticket as a car ride from Seattle to LA is too much sitting-still time in my condition. The next time I leave Seattle will be after graduation to have the baby in Los Angeles. I’ll need to drive then to move all my things home. For now, I rent a smallish apartment near campus. I had a roommate for the first three years of college, but I decided to live alone for my final year. I wasn’t a good roommate anyway when my mom was sick. I was almost never in Seattle.

Two nights before my flight, Gage and I are hanging out at my apartment. He’s got his feet kicked up on the ottoman in front of my couch and the television on. His arm drapes over the back of the couch, and he plays with my hair. It’s a typical position for us, and I balance my laptop as best as I can on my belly to finish a reflection paper for my clinicals.

Gage pauses in stroking my hair, and my eyes jump up to the set. The Mouthy Source is hosting a gab session in which they rip on celebrities.

“Turn that off,” I say until the next frame pops up with Gage and me. We’re walking down a Seattle street. We can hardly step outside without having our picture taken and questions posted. His arm draped lazily around my shoulders. I’m laughing about something he said. My hand covering my belly gives away my pregnancy as the last button on my jacket no longer closes.

“Gage Everly. Hot rocker but hold the phone. Mums the word on his sudden girlfriend, Ivy Carrigan, daughter of the late Kit Carrigan. Or rather, mums the word as the rumors of her pregnancy are visibly confirmed,” the first announce comments.

“Can’t hide that basketball,” another announcer states.

“I think they look happy,” the third chimes in, and I have to agree. We do look happy in the projected image.

“But does anyone find it odd she was seen with Cash Bennett before his death?”

My apartment goes silent. I’m not certain Gage or I take a breath.

“Cash Bennett certainly had a reputation, but does anyone else wonder if the baby is his? I mean, Gage Everly wasn’t seen with Ivy say five, six months ago. He was out and about with Sasha Redd.” They talk about us as if they know us personally. Sasha Redd is a red-headed actress, famous for dating rock stars and models. Now that the show mentions it, I do remember Gage seen publicly a few times with Sasha. She’d been at a few of the parties I attended with Cash. Well, not with him, but we were there at the same time, and we left together.

“Anyone check if Sasha’s pregnant, too?” The crowd of announcers laughs, and Gage turns off the set.

We remain quiet until I can’t hold it.

“Well, is she?” I chuckle without humor, realizing Gage most likely had sex with Sasha, and he hasn’t had sex with me. How could I ever explain we waited when it’s obvious I didn’t wait…with someone.

“That’s not even funny,” Gage mutters, lifting his arm over me and swiping over his hair. It’s grown longer since he’s been here in Seattle, and he’s sporting a manbun at the moment. I’d want to lick his exposed neck and bite his scruffy jaw if his tone didn’t irritate me so much.

“Well, you probably had sex with her. Maybe they should check it out.” I don’t know why I say what I’ve said. Deep down, I’m hurt that he slept with her while I have no right to be upset. It was before me. So was my sleeping with Cash.

“At least she wasn’t your best friend.” Oh no, he didn’t. My legs unfold from their crisscross, and I lean forward as best I can to set my laptop on the ottoman.

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to handle this,” I snap, rubbing my hand over my belly, protecting her as I yell at him. He shifts, looking over his shoulder at me.

“You started this. You know I don’t give a fuck if he started that baby. It ends with me.”

I glare at him. “Well, maybe it shouldn’t.”