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Baby? He has the nerve to call her baby while he is licking my skin?
The room suddenly feels warm as my skin begins to crawl. I shuffle away until I am off the bed and standing near the door. He doesn’t look my way, and instead, stares amused at the floor. There is a loud noise coming off the phone speaker, and his laughter, along with his complete disregard for what just happened between us, angers and forces me to take whatever dignity I have left and exit the room.
Instead of heading back to my room, I open the door to Gemma and Melissa’s room, climbing into bed beside them. Gemma wraps her arm around me and mumbles, half asleep, “You’re falling in love with him, Pres.”
She has no idea what she’s talking about. Pfft, love. Haden isn’t capable of loving anyone but himself. Though Gemma said I was falling in love with him, there is zero truth to that. I know what love is. After all, I had it with Jason, and this in no way can be compared to my relationship with him.
Love is feeling secure, knowing you can count on that person no matter what. There is comfort, happiness, and a feeling of being content.
Haden’s expressed none of that, and what do I expect, anyway? A twenty-six-year-old jerk who loves himself is going to be my kid’s dad.
But not the man I am spending the rest of my life with.
There is a huge difference.
Or maybe, there’s absolutely no difference at all.
Fifteen
Dad and Haden left early to go hunting, leaving us girls for the day. Mom thought it would be ‘swell’ to take us shopping.
Jumping from store to store, the three of them “ooh” and “aah” over anything baby related, while I sit in the corner of the store allowing my tired feet to rest. Shopping and pregnancy do not mix. I am ready to say yes to everything they shove at my face just so we can get out of here.
“So, Pres, have you made a list of all the things you need?” Gemma asks, holding up two sailor outfits.
I cringe at the outfits. “No.”
“Stop the press! You’re so anal with your lists and need to be organized,” Melissa points out, this time holding up two lamb onesies which, I have to admit, are adorable.
“Just busy and stuff.”
“Presley Malone. Since when are you ever this blasé?” Mom takes the sailor outfit from Gemma and places it in her basket.
Great. My kid is going to look like one of the Village People.
“Mom, I’m busy with work. I don’t have time to plan these things. I’m sure there’s some website that, with a click of a button, will deliver everything to my door.”
The three of them stare at me, wide-eyed in shock.
“What have you done with the real Presley?” Gemma inquires, raising her eyebrows at me curiously while holding up a cowboy outfit, frills and all. I shake my head in disapproval.
“Why are you all making a big deal out of this?” I answer defensively.
“Because you’re having a baby. It’s the biggest deal there could ever be,” Mom intervenes.
Now they’re ganging up on me. I can’t please anyone, and right now that diner across the road with the awesome banana fudge sundae is the only thing I can think about.
“Are we done? I’m hungry.”
The three of them nod and pay for the items before we head out of the store. They don’t raise the subject again, and they don’t realize that I’m completely terrified. Every day I’m experiencing something new, whether it’s exciting or unpleasant, and even though I’m surrounded by family, I feel so alone—even more so after the Jerk’s willingness to abandon the intimate moment between us, proving again he’s unreliable.
The banana fudge sundae is a temporary cure before we head back home to pack.
When Dad and Haden pull up in the old pickup truck, I greet them outside, instantly hit by a godawful stench.
“What the hell is that?” I scowl.
“Don’t look in the back, poodle.”
