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“What is…” she begins, fading off. She takes a breath. “This is something. This thing between us. Right?”
I press a kiss to her shoulder and pull her a little tighter to me.
“This is definitely something.”
“Not just because of the baby?”
“Not just because of the baby.”
She falls asleep, letting me hold her just like that. But the thing is, I’d be here, like this, even if she wasn’t pregnant. And that scares me most of all.
But I’m not going to do a damn thing to stop it.
CHAPTER23
DEREK
JULY
“I boughtthe glow sticks from the girl with the alpaca and the pretzel necklace from the guy with the silverware art,” Ainsley says, tugging at her necklace for Megan to take a bite.
“That might be the most Portland thing I’ve ever heard you say and I think I want to have your baby,” Megan says, her voice loud enough to be heard over soundcheck.
“Too late,” Freddy says, holding out a fist for me to bump.
My eyes flick to Megan, trying to get a read as to whether this is actually funny. Before I can make up my mind whether I want to bump his fist, she intercepts with a bump and then blows it up.
“Fuck, bruh,” Freddy says, wrapping an arm around her neck and nuzzling her head. “You should marry this girl.”
My chest tightens as I lift my pint of Deschutes’ current hazy IPA and take a long sip.
“Get in line,” a loud voice comes from behind my girl, and she turns.
Then she tosses her hands in the air with a squeal, throwing her arms around a large, bald, Black man who would look intimidating if not for the teddy bear smile that reveals two dimples in his cheeks. As well as his shirt that saysMuddy Waters Invented Electricity.
“Grover!” she squeals as he lifts her and spins her around. I feel the urge to reach out and tug her back.
It can’t be safe for a woman in her condition to just be tossed around like that. But also, if anyone is going to be tossing her around, it’s gonna be me. He sets her down gently, catching my eye and reaches out a hand.
“Grover,” he says. “You must be the guy?”
I don’t like the way he says it, but he doesn’t look possessive. Just protective.
“Derek,” I say. His handshake is firm.
“We used to work together,” Megan says.
Freddy and Grover get to talking. Ainsley seems distracted as Megan and Caro graze on her necklace.
Someone makes an announcement on the stage and the first band ambles out. It’s the first day of the Portland Blues Festival and we’ve taken shifts throughout the day securing a good spot along the riverfront. Megan and I took the first shift. Then she wasn’t feeling well enough to get out of bed this morning, so I sat on a blanket by myself for two hours. But now it’s all paid off because we have prime seats. Not so close that our ears will be ringing for days, close enough to the river to feel the breeze, easy traffic patterns to access the least smelly bathrooms. All these things were important to Megan, which made them important to her roommates and friends.
As the next band starts up, leading into its first number with a killer bass solo, everyone settles onto the blanket, and Megan is sandwiched between Caro and Tansy. I drink my beer and sit with Freddy and Grover, listening to both the music and their conversation about the chances that the Woodsmen will make it to the playoffs this year. But mostly, I’m watching Megan.
“Need another beer, brah?” Freddy asks, nodding at my near-empty cup.
“Probably not,” I say.
“Looks like he needs something,” Grover says, nodding at Megan.
