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I thinkthe conversation with her mother put a lot of things straight for Ali. They confused a lot more for me. I’ve always loved Ali. I know I have but I’ve never felt so conflicted for her. Pained for her. Like I just want to wrap her up in a blanket and protect her from everything bad in the world—one of those bad things is me.
The next few weeks we ate dinner together, then it turned to lunch and dinner. Then it turned to me sitting in her apartment playing guitar while she worked furiously on the phone sorting stuff out for her new band. I can’t help admiring her. I also can’t help how hard my dick gets when she says stuff like ‘cut the crap’ and ‘tell me without the bullshit this time.’ She literally takes no prisoners—Fuck that’s hot. It always has been, but it’s even hotter that I know my little baby is growing inside of her. Is that a bit primal? Like I’ve marked her? I don’t know but fuck me if it’s doing both my head and my cock in because I want nothing more than to claim that pink little cunt for my own again.
But I don’t. I sit here with blue balls all day every day.
Wanting.
Waiting.
Wishing.
We’ve done the sensible thing and opened a joint bank account. Ali won’t listen when I say I’ve got this, there’s some extreme feminist in her that won’t let her be tied down and completely indebted to a man. But her and this baby are all I have ever wanted. I know that and so should she. I’m so whipped at the moment that I literally hang off her every word. Make her copious amounts of decaf coffee and green tea. Make sure she’s eating enough fruit during the day, and I always have her dinner waiting on the table. I’m seriously like a little bitch right now.
The thing I wouldn’t mention to any of the boys? I fucking love it! I’ve only told Donna my therapist, but I’ve not even had a drink since Ali told me she was pregnant. I certainly haven’t scored anything. I just don’t want anything. The only thing I’m craving is her. I made her an aubergine bake thing tonight that my mum always used to make me and Cass. I had no idea how to do it and I had to Facetime my sister, who luckily was awake after sleeping off a night shift and she talked me through it. I’ve barely ever cooked a thing for myself in my life, but there’s something pretty cool about this playing house thing with Ali.
Once she sits down at the table and lets out that perfect little sighing noise as she eyes the food on the table. Her smile reaches her eyes and I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen anything so damn beautiful in all of my life.
“Hmmm,” she mumbles, and the noise goes straight to my damn aching balls. I feel them tighten. Fuck me I want her. In every possible way. “Max, I’m quite enjoying this. I mean who knew getting pregnant by the playboy prince of rock ‘n’ roll would open him up to being my house maid, cook, and all-around good guy.” She smiles as she picks up her fork.
I smile back. Not the knicker melting stage smile. That overwhelming happy one. Genuine. For her. It’s all for her.
“It’s kind of working, huh?” I reply as I watch her eagerly tucking into her dinner, ignoring the happy little noises she is letting drop from her throat.
“What do you mean?” she asks almost coyly. She knows though, of course, she does.
“This,” I say, pointing my fork at myself and then at her and she gives me another one of those sweet yet sexy smiles.
“You cooking my dinner and making me tea while I get to work and listen to you playing sweet music in my lounge all day? Yeah, I’d say it’s pretty good.”
“I’m glad my services are appreciated, Miss Cannock. But we both know that is not what I mean. I’m talking about you and me. It’s working, isn’t it? Us being together?”
“It is.” She nods in agreement. My heart-beat quickens, I drop my fork, my palms a little sweaty. How do I say it without sounding crazy? I start to speak, then I stop. I watch her watching me. Her mouth opens, she can read me like a book. She knows what I want to say. She knows that maybe I can’t find the words.
“Max, there’s always been chemistry between us, there is no denying that. But we’ve been professional and avoided it for the last nearly ten years. If we’ve managed that we can manage it now.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue. That I’ve had a taste now and I’ll never be the same. That I’ve never wanted anyone like the way I crave her. That I doubt any woman will ever be able to come close to making my heartbeat the way she can.
Maybe she’s it for me… and maybe she’s never going to let us be us.
For the baby’s sake.
It’s on the tip of my tongue that maybe for the baby’s sake we could be damn near perfect. She doesn’t realise that, yeah, I might be giving them financial stability but she’s giving me the world. All I’ve ever wanted.
“Max, let’s not push it okay. You are right. This is going brilliantly. We’re getting on better than I ever could have imagined. I’m so happy about that, but I don’t want to push anything. To force anything that doesn’t need to be forced. We just need to be our best selves for this little one. No labels?” She smiles that beautiful smile at me as she takes another bite of her dinner. I smile back, biting my tongue to further prove my point. The rest of our dinner is in this strangely comfortable silence that seems to come between her and me, regardless of the cautious conversation we just had. When I clear her plate, I lean down, pressing my lips to her cheek.
As my lips find her soft skin, her head turns. Her green eyes sparkle with a wonder, with a curious worry. I watch her lids flutter shut as I push a kiss to her lips. Her lips pucker. Her sweet, sweet mouth. My heartbeat quickens as I hold my lips to hers for a second more.
“Okay, Angel,” I promise her as I collect the plates, load the dishwasher and leave her for the evening. Adjusting my jeans all the way in my ride home to try and get rid of my awkward boner.
Fuck, I’ve got it bad.
