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Chapter Eleven
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Ihaven’t finishedrinsing the soap off my body when I hear a hard knock on the front door. At first I think it might be someone knocking on my neighbor’s door–she’s known to have visitors at all hours–but the sound comes again, louder this time, confirming that it is my door being knocked on.
Not sure who it could be, given that it’s nearly two in the morning, I rinse as quickly as I can before turning off the water and stepping out into the crisp air conditioned room.
Wrapping my hair in a towel, I’m slipping on my floor length fluffy white robe when the knock comes again.
Hurrying from the bathroom, I flip on the hall light as I go, tripping over the heels I kicked off in the middle of the floor after I got home from having one too many cosmos with Emma.
Another knock, this one so hard I swear the entire front wall of my condo vibrates against the assault. Pushing up on my tip toes to look out the peep hole, my stomach sinks the moment I catch sight of Gage on the other side of the door.
“Come on, Lennon. I know you’re in there. Open up.” Another knock.
Not wanting to answer but also not wanting him to wake every neighbor in my building, I lean my forehead against the door and loudly grumble, “What do you want, Gage?”
The last time he showed up at my door was three months ago. He was shitfaced drunk, crying about how much he missed me, and even though it was the last thing I wanted to do, I let him crash on the couch. I may hate him for what he did to me but I didn’t want him getting behind the wheel of his car, knowing if he hurt someone I would carry that guilt forever.
So, I sucked it up, threw a blanket at him and locked myself in my bedroom, making sure I was gone before he woke the next morning.
“Open the door, Lennon.” He knocks again, the action causing my teeth to chatter slightly.
I step back, far too buzzed to be dealing with my ex but also knowing he won’t go away until I acknowledge whatever it is he wants. Letting out a slow sigh, I reach for the dead bolt and, against my better judgment, click it to the left before pulling the door open.
“Are you trying to wake the whole building?” I lean in the doorway, arms crossed over my chest like I couldn’t be more annoyed right now.
“We need to talk,” he says, his eyes scanning the room behind me. “Are you alone?”
He seems cleared eyed and even toned, which leads me to believe this isn’t a repeat of last time.Thank god.
“Um, last time I checked. Though I’m not sure why that matters. Shouldn’t you be at home with your very pregnantgirlfriend?” I snip, tightening my robe when Gage’s eyes trace over what I’m currently wearing. Or rathernotwearing for that matter.
“That’s why I’m here. Seriously Len, can we talk?” He slides past me in the doorway without waiting for me to answer.
“By all means, come on in,” I grind out sarcastically, closing the door.
“The baby isn’t mine,” Gage announces, running a hand through his uncharacteristically messy blonde hair. He’s pacing back in forth through my living room, not looking at me.
“What?” I say, not hiding my surprise.
“She had the baby. And he isn’t mine.” He stops mid stride and turns to face me.
“Wait. When did she have the baby? And how do you know he isn’t yours?”
“Earlier tonight.” He blows out a hard breath before continuing, “Dark complexion, dark hair, dark eyes. Does that sound like a child I fathered?” he asks, gesturing to himself.
Gage is tan but that’s from spending so much time outside surfing and jet skiing. In the winter he becomes almost as pale as me. Blonde hair. Light green eyes. I struggle to remember what she looks like, having only met her once when Gage played her off as an old friend when she’d showed up to a party at our house.
“Maybe the baby takes after her family,” I offer, not really sure what he expects me to say.
“She’s got blonde hair and blue eyes, Len. Practically her whole family does.”
“So, not all children come out looking like their parents.”
“She admitted it,” he yells, his voice exploding through the condo as he quickly resumes his pacing. “Apparently she was still sleeping with her ex-boyfriend when she got pregnant. I thought the condom had failed. Turns out she wasn’t using protection with him.”
“Well that’s an interesting turn of events.” I don’t even try to hide the humor in my words. Why should I? Serves the asshole right for what he put me through. “Guess it’s true what they say. Eventually everything comes back around.” I almost snicker, knowing I shouldn’t find this so funny, but the alcohol buzz swimming through my veins does nothing to dull the one emotion I didn’t expect to feel with this visit–humor.
