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“Quiet time,” I repeat.
He nods, shoveling more pizza in his mouth. “I mean, I’m going to have to move in here because I was rooming with Hudson and Asher since we’re all bachelors, but it’s fine, I think you have plenty of room for all three of us.”
“Pause. Hold on. You are not moving into my house, Graham. You’re insane, this is insane. Backtrack.”
I walk over and take the slice of pizza he’s about to put in his mouth, setting it on the box. “Focus. We’re not moving in together. I need you to be serious right now, Graham, this is our kid and our future.”
“What makes you think I’m not being serious? I’m being one hundred percent serious, Em. Why not? I’ll pay the rent, and we’ll both be there for the baby.”
“Bec- I mean, because we can’t just move in together! People don't just do that. Decide they’re going to move in together, without even knowing each other.”
Rolling his eyes, he steps closer. “I mean, I know you well enough to know what you taste like.”
My cheeks immediately heat at the dirty words coming from his mouth. “Jesus. Stop. Okay, we need to sit down and come up with a plan that’s thought-out and practical for us both.”
This time he throws his head back and laughs and then snatches the pizza off the box and takes another ridiculous bite. “You and your plans. You do realize that there is no plan when it comes to kids; they kind of just do their own shit. It’s gonna be okay, Em. You’re going to be the best mother, and we’ll figure shit out as we go.”
“We will not just… figure shit out.” I do air quotes around that ridiculous statement because he’s obviously insane. I’m having a child with a crazy person.
“Well, I know one thing.”
“What?”
“We’ve got to get married.”
Oh. My god. What in thehellhave I gotten myself into?
I don’t even respond, I just leave him standing in the kitchen, stuffing his face with deep-dish pizza, while I seem to be the only sensible, rational person here.
Get married.
“You’re being a dick,” I say exasperatedly. “This is our future, Graham. Please be serious.”
He looks offended. “I am not being a dick, and I am being serious.”
I cross my arms over my chest and raise my eyebrow.
“Okay, I realize I probably should have said that a bit more tactfully, but seriously, Em, do you know anything about my family?”
His honey colored eyes, deep and dark, search mine, and I can tell he’s serious.
“Aside from the fact that you’re from somewhere in Tennessee? No, I don’t Graham."
Finally abandoning the pizza, he walks over to where I’m standing and leans against the counter before continuing, “I’m from a small town in Tennessee, and I was raised by my mama on our family’s farm. We provide milk to a huge region in lower Tennessee. My dad passed away of a heart attack when I was eight.”
“I’m sorry.”
I am. I heard that from Reed once before, I think that Graham was raised by his mom, but I didn't know his father had died. I guess that’s one thing we have in common. Probably the only thing. I mean, my father isn’t dead, he was just never actually a father to me.
“My mom and my younger sister were all I had growing up. She raised my sister to be strong, independent and I was proud to be raised by a woman like her. Ma taught me to respect women, to work hard, and to never give up on my dreams. I spent more time working on the farm than I did doing anything else. It was my job, my responsibility. If I wanted to have food on the table, I had to step up. My mom and sister couldn’t do it by themselves. Even at eight, I became the man of the house. My family is… old-fashioned.”
Old-fashioned.
“As in, my mama would beat my ass with a broom if she found out I was having sex outside of marriage, and especially if it was outside of even a relationship. We have to get married, Em, or she’s going to actually kill me dead.” He looks at me with pleading eyes.
He is one hundred percent serious.
I want to laugh because this situation is honestly that comical.
