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She turned back to her door and unlocked it, stepping inside and holding the door for me. I took the door from her on my own way through and she moved away, toeing out of her shoes. Moving them with her toes, she placed them along the wall and hung her keys on a peg, putting her wallet in a small basket attached to the bar the peg was on.
“I’m going to change into something more comfortable. Just… Sit somewhere.” She waved her hand dismissively as she walked away from me and like the involuntary brow raise a little bit ago, my lips were twitching to grin.
I let the door close behind me and bent down to untie my dress shoes, placing them near the shoes Mia set aside. They were next to a pair of running shoes, a nicer pair of sandals, and a pair of those plastic flip flops you could buy for less than five bucks.
Deciding to take a look around, I pocketed my hands and moved quietly through her place. There was a small bathroom and laundry room, and the next room I passed through was a living room area and one of the smallest kitchens I had ever seen. The place couldn’t be much bigger than five hundred square feet. I wondered what she was paying for little digs like this.
Which had me wondering what it was, exactly, she did for a living.
Which, of course, had me curious about how that would all work out once she had the baby.
Fuck. This train of thought I had where Mia was concerned fucking baffled me.
It looked like the nicest piece of furniture in her apartment, and by that, I mean more expensive than twenty dollars apiece, was her couch. I went over to the sectional and sat down, surprised to realize it was extremely comfortable.
I mean…it was bright turquoise, but it was comfortable.
I sat forward, my forearms on my knees, as I waited for her to come back out. I wasn’t a lady, but I couldn’t think of a reason why her slacks and shirt were uncomfortable and why she had to change. It wasn’t like she’d been in them all that long.
She arrived to the restaurant, barfed in the restroom, and left. Not that much time in her clothes.
Then again, she did barf, and was pressed against the restroom wall…
I couldn’t help but grin at the memory.
So yeah, maybe that’s why she wanted to change. Bathroom walls were dirty. Her panties probably were, too.
When a door opened at the other end of the room, I looked up to see Mia emerge, this time in cotton shorts and a dark t-shirt that hugged her stomach. Her crazy curls were pulled back from her face now, but I only glanced at them quickly before dropping my gaze back to her stomach.
Mia stretched at the bottom hem of her shirt. “They’re getting too tight, sorry,” she grumbled. Barefoot, she padded past me into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, then moved back toward me only to stop at the counter seating area. She placed her bottle of water on the counter and pulled out a stool to sit facing me, but she didn’t say anything.
I tried to work on getting my mad back, but I couldn’t manage to find any anger as I looked at her sitting there in front of me, propped on a stool with her hands clasped between her bare knees.
“Were you going to tell me?” There. I would start with that.
She stared at me a moment too long, and I had my answer. No, she hadn’t been planning on it.
“I was going to try,” she said instead.
I nodded a few times, my eyes locked with hers. She looked uncomfortable but I gave the girl props, she kept eye contact.
“You should—“ I started, but she spoke at the same time, “Look, I was—”
We both stopped and stared at one another before Mia sat up a little straighter in her chair.
“I was going to try telling you. I know that’s not a good enough answer, but I was going to try. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the first night who I was. I should have. It was childish of me not to tell you, just as it was childish of me to want to be with you for a night.”
Well, I wouldn’t say childish…
“By the time I found out I was pregnant, I was already three months along. Conor, it took me three weeks to try and talk to you, and even that I failed at. I just…” she shrugged her shoulders and looked down at her lap.
I didn’t have the anger in me any longer. To be honest, I’m not sure it ever was true anger. When I found out I took her virginity, I was angry, sure, but more at myself. Omitting the truth is lying, yeah, but I probably could have handled her better afterward. And when she walked into the restaurant earlier, it wasn’t so much anger as it was shock at learning the woman I had fought to get out of my head was a girl I had known when I was a kid, and that she was obviously pregnant with my child.
“What have you been up to, Mia?” I asked. The shock on her face was comical. It was not the direction she was thinking I would go, I was sure. Hell, it baffled me a bit too.
She contorted her face a few times as she worked on spitting out words, but finally she settled on, “I teach?”
“Is that a question, or is that what you do?”
