She walks out of the door, and I continue standing there clutching my stuff, unsure which way to go yet. I know she is right. I need to tell him, but I am scared. The last few days have been confusing but amazing. I haven’t been as worried. There has been someone else looking after me for once. I have been able to sleep and relax. Albeit for short timeframes before the truth sinks in, still, it felt wonderful. But let’s be honest. Once he finds out about the baby, what are the odds he will stay this protective and attentive? I guess it doesn’t matter. I was always going to end up alone. Knock. Knock. I hear his taps on the door and take a deep breath. I guess now is as good a time as any.
Finally, my bedroom door opens, and Aunt Pen comes out. Alone.
“What did you guys talk about?” I demand as soon as she shuts the door behind her.
“You’re going to have to talk to Scarlett, Sammy. I promised her I wouldn’t say a thing.”
“Why would you do a thing like that?” I ask, shocked. She’s always been on my side.
“Because it’s not my place, and if I find out you’ve fucked this up, I’m going to beat your ass.”
“I’m a grown man, Aunt Pen.”
“Not that grown,” she says, laughing as she walks out the door. I shake my head at her nonsense. She’s always been the cool aunt, the life of the party, but then again, I never gave her a reason to have to be the disciplinarian.
I grab Scarlett a ginger ale from the kitchen and then I knock on the door and wait for her to acknowledge me.
“Come in,” her sweet voice finally says. As soon as I open the door, the first thing I notice is her sitting on my bed with her legs crossed, but she’s wearing my Miami Dolphins jersey… and nothing fucking else, at least that I can see. Her dress is draped over the back the chair in the corner.
“What’s going on?” I ask her, sitting on the bed beside her. I hand her the ginger ale which she sips slowly.
“Thank you. I don’t know if I’m ready to tell you or nor.”
“I’d like for you to tell me. You can tell me anything, Scarlett,” I say, grabbing her free hand.
She thinks for a minute, takes another sip of ginger ale, and then takes a deep breath.
“I’m pregnant,” she says softly. Fuck yeah, I tell myself. I was right. I know this is my moment to tell her everything but I can’t. Not until she’s so fucking in love with me that the things I did don’t matter. Game on.
“That certainly explains things,” I say, squeezing her hand.
“You’re not mad?”
“Like you’re not going to fire me?”
“Well, no. First of all, I am pretty sure that’s entirely illegal, not to mention, I’d never fire you. You’re the best assistant I’ve ever had.
“You don’t have any follow up questions? You don’t want to know who the father is?” she blurts out. I smile. I already fucking know who the father is.
“No, Scarlett. I’m not concerned about that at all. Are you healthy? Is your baby healthy?” I ask.
“Yes, we’re both fine.”
“Then that’s all that matters,” I say.
“Is it? What if I had a boyfriend waiting for me at home?”
“Do you have a boyfriend?” I ask, insane with jealously at the mere thought of her having a boyfriend, one who isn’t me.
“Well… no, but I could have. Babies just don’t make themselves.”
Just then her stomach rumbles and I spring into action.
“Let’s find something for you to eat,” I say standing. I take her hand and help her up. She looks amazing in just my jersey. Who am I kidding? She looks amazing in anything. In nothing at all. My cock is instantly hard and I have to force myself to think of anything else in the world, instead of sliding into her hot, wet pussy again. I growl.
“What’s wrong,” she asks as soon as we get into the kitchen.
“Nothing, Scarlett. Nothing at all.”
“People don’t growl for no reason, Sam.”
Turning, I face her and step closer to her.
“You’re so beautiful, Scarlett. I can’t help myself when I am around you,” I say and then my lips touch hers.
“Oh, my,” she says, when I let her go. I don’t want to scare her and move to fast. I am more than content with just her kisses.
ONE WEEK LATER
This is insane. I have been here for a week. An entire week was spent sleeping in his bed, wrapped in his arms every night. Nothing has happened but a few stolen kisses that always take my breath away, but other than that, nothing.
Slowly, I have noticed things from my apartment show up here. Like clothes, my bathroom products, and even some foods that I like being stocked in the house. I ignored it for a while, sure, it would stop, and he would get sick of me, but now it is just downright weird, and it is starting to piss me off. Now weird in a run away sort of way, but like, in a frustrating way. He won’t talk to me about the baby. Hasn’t said anything since I told him a week ago. He simply just keeps the house stocked with ginger ale, crackers, and ginger lemon tea. Sweet I know, but it is making my head spin.