My Unexpected Family by Harlow James
Chapter 3
Chloe
Two Months Later
“Oh my God. Fucking pen caps and cupboards. I love it,” I mumble to myself as I watch Hayes and Waverly renew their vows in his parent’s backyard. Shayla and Wes are on the other side of the aisle to even out the numbers, so I’m stuck sitting next to some woman who’s snickering as well.
Yes, I’m at another wedding for more of my close friends. And these two went through quite the journey to get their happily ever after, but I always knew something was brewing there. Pride swells in my chest watching them kiss, knowing I was right all along about them and their attraction toward one another. I can only hope that Hayes has finally bitten Waverly after all that tension.
As the bride and groom glide down the aisle as if they’re floating on the clouds, I rise from my seat and dizziness assaults my senses. Jesus, not again. I’ve been so light-headed recently, but have convinced myself it’s just the heat. The humidity has been rather high too this summer, and I’ve been working a lot. I’ve been waking up even earlier than normal to walk my client’s dogs, trying to beat the soaring temperatures. I’m just tired, and perhaps my iron is low. That’s all it has to be.
Waiting for the uneasiness to subside, I take a deep breath and follow the crowd down the aisle until we come to a dead stop. I glance around the people in front of me, realizing that Hayes and Waverly are up ahead greeting everyone before they enter the house. Seeing as how I just saw them a few days ago and will probably see them again soon, I turn right and weave through a row of chairs, side-stepping the line and bee-lining straight for the bar instead of waiting to greet them formally.
“Can I get a glass of ice water, please?” I ask the bartender. He nods and begins filling my cup as I turn around to take in the crowd and my eyes land on Silas.
It’s been months since I’ve seen him, since Shayla and Wes’s wedding actually. Apparently the man is a work-a-holic and has been too busy to hang out with everyone when an invite has been extended. But each time he doesn’t show up, disappointment lingers in my chest, followed by a wave of relief.
That night Silas and I shared in Aruba was… I can’t even begin to describe it.
I like sex, know the difference between a good encounter and a mediocre one—but that round with Silas De Luca only confirmed the nickname given to him by Hayes, the Italian Stallion.
He rocked my world.
Three orgasms? Three? What self-respecting woman wouldn’t want another round with him?
I could see it in his eyes once he took that first shot of tequila, as if the liquid granted him permission to give in to his attraction for me. I’ve never met a man so uptight, like a lion in a cage just waiting for the perfect opportunity to break free. And he did with me.
It was fucking hot. He bossed me around just like I wanted him to, even though I fought him on it until I had no choice but to relent.
And it wasn’t because he demanded it.
No.
It was the way he held my face and asked me to trust him, trust him to please me.
What kind of man does that?
And then he flipped a switch, went full alpha on me and delivered three mind-blowing orgasms. I still refer back to that spank bank material when I drop my vibrator between my legs at night—the sight of his muscular body standing before me—his bulging biceps, hard pecs, mountains of abs, and that dark smatter of neatly trimmed hair on his chest, abs, and the patch that framed his glorious dick that still makes my clit light up when I think about it.
But here’s the thing. I wanted more—more sex, more time with him. I wanted to continue to watch his inhibitions lower.
And that night as he was leaving, I almost asked. I almost offered him an entire night, or even a few more during the remainder of our stay in Aruba.
But I told him I wouldn’t be that woman, that he wouldn’t have to worry about that type of behavior from me. And the last thing I wanted to do was go back on my word after he finally gave in. So I played the part, acted aloof, like nothing happened, and dealt with my confusing feelings in silence. I didn’t even tell Shayla what happened between us because I wasn’t sure how it made me feel and I knew she would read too much into it. She did after he denied me the first time in Vegas, and her and Waverly have been giving me shit about it ever since.
But now, two months later, I can tell that the strange pull I feel toward him, the desire to sleep with him again—it wasn’t just a fluke. It feels like a nuisance I can’t shake because I’ve never had a problem moving on from sex with a man before. Until him.
Gulping down the cool liquid, I relish in how my body temperature begins to lower from the inside out. My stomach clenches as I watch Silas laugh at something the woman he’s speaking to says, and then I can feel my face fall.
Who the fuck is she?
“It doesn’t matter. You don’t care,” I mumble to myself before draining my water glass and placing the empty container on the bar. My stomach rolls, signaling my hunger, so I take that as a sign to move inside and seek out sustenance so I can have an alcoholic beverage next, which is also an excuse to avoid watching Silas flirt with that woman some more.
Darting around people, I take a moment to observe the home that Hayes grew up in. Damn, this is some house—hardwood floors, crown moldings, a grand piano in one of the three living rooms. I couldn’t imagine growing up here. I’d get lost.
Speaking of lost, where’s the bathroom?
I follow a group of women headed down a long hallway, knowing that where a group of women walk, there will be a bathroom nearby. And much to my satisfaction, they lead me right to one.
After I do my business, my stomach growls at me again to the point of the hunger making me nauseous. Food. Must eat food now.
Applause rings out as I make my way through a crowd gathered around Hayes and Waverly standing next to the grand piano. He must have played a song for her, which is hella romantic. Damn. How long was I in the bathroom?
“Look at you, Mrs. Weston.” I stride up to them, grinning from ear to ear. A waiter walks past me and I almost knock him over with how fast I reach out to snag whatever is on his tray. Coconut shrimp? Hell ya, I’ll take it.
“Hey, Chloe. You having a good time?” Waverly asks while resting her head on Hayes’s shoulder.
“Those vows were amazing, you guys. Seriously, most entertaining wedding ceremony I’ve ever been to.” I take a bite of the shrimp as the sweet and crunchy texture hits my tongue.
Shayla and Wes come up to us just as I finish speaking, gasping in disbelief. “Hey, I take offense to that.”
“Yeah, I know you could definitely feel the love between Shayla and me,” Wes adds as he clings to my friend.
“Don’t get me wrong, the mushy stuff serves a purpose. But promising to close kitchen cupboards and put caps on pens? That’s original.” I point a finger at Shayla, but then my stomach rumbles, and not in a good way. I can feel my eyes widen as I realize I’m going to be sick.
“Chloe? What’s wrong?”
I try to get out that I’ll be right back, but I have to cover my mouth with my hand to prevent the contents of my stomach from ending up on the floor.
I run back down the hallway where I know the bathroom is and barge through the door, grateful there’s no one inside, even though I may have cut off a few people waiting for their turn. But I’m sure they’ll be thankful that I didn’t take time for manners as the noise of me emptying my stomach in the toilet echoes in the room.
Mostly liquid makes its way up along with the remnants of my breakfast burrito. Gasping for air once I feel the urge to vomit subside, I wait for my head to stop spinning and then stand up, moving to flush the toilet before taking a few steps over to the sink. Staring at my reflection, I reach for a paper towel and dab the sweat off my forehead and clean up the streaks of mascara under my eyes.
What the hell? That was weird. That breakfast burrito must have not agreed with me.
“Chloe?” I hear Shayla say outside the door, followed by a few soft knocks.
“I’m okay,” I bark out, flushing the toilet once more to make sure there’s no lingering evidence of what just happened, and then running the sink water for a moment, sticking the paper towel under the water. Once it’s wet, I tap it to the back of my neck, hoping to help cool me down more. Damn, this heat is really getting to me.
Once I feel okay again, I pull open the door to see Shayla and Waverly waiting for me, concern in their eyes.
“Chloe. You look horrible. Do you want to lie down?”
I brush my hair from my face, a few curls that have fallen from my up-do. “No, I’m fine. I just… haven’t felt well for a few days, but that’s the first time I’ve gotten sick,” I say honestly, not sure if I should be concerned at this point or not.
“When did you start feeling like crap?” Shayla asks as we continue to stand in the hallway and block the door to the bathroom.
“Uh, probably a week ago. I thought it was a stomach bug, or the heat, but the nausea and dizziness hasn’t really let up.”
Shayla’s eyes dart to Waverly and they share a look. “Chloe, when was your last period?” Shayla asks, catching me off-guard. But instead, I just roll my eyes.
“Please, Shayla. I’m not pregnant. You have to have sex to get…” And then it hits me. I can feel my eyes bug out as I reach up to clasp a hand over my mouth.
Oh my God. My period. I haven’t even thought about it. I’ve been so busy, so fixated on the lingering feelings about Silas, so determined to pay my bills now that Shayla moved in with Wes and I’m on my own financially that I haven’t even thought about the fact that I haven’t had a period since before…
“Come here,” Waverly commands, grabbing both mine and Shayla’s hands and rushing us down the hallway to an empty room. She slams the door shut and then leads me to the bed, where I take a seat on the edge and then hunch over. My heart is racing, my lungs are struggling to take in air, and I seriously feel like I’m on the verge of a panic attack.
“Chloe, just breathe. Deep breaths,” Waverly suggests in a soft voice, trying to calm me down. But I’m beyond calm as the other details of my situation start to come to light. “Now when was your last period?”
“I…I don’t know. It was before Aruba, I think,” I mutter, my head still in my hands.
But I know. I know exactly when it was and what this means.
Shayla chimes in now with the question I can almost sense is coming. “When did you have sex last?”
“In Aruba,” I admit, barely loud enough for them to hear.
“What?” They both shout in unison, shocked by my confession because I never told them. I kept my night with Silas all to myself for a reason. And now, that’s all gone to hell with this development.
So I raise my head and share the knowledge I’m deathly afraid is true. “Fuck me, you guys. I think…I think I’m pregnant with a hot Italian man’s baby.”
“Oh my God,” Shayla whispers as Waverly acknowledges the words I just said as well. “Silas?”
Feeling defeated and nauseous again, I simply nod my head and then fling my body back on the bed, closing my eyes as my reality hits me.
“How did this happen?” she prods further.
“How do you think it happened, Shayla? Do I need to give you a sex-ed lesson again?”
“Chloe,” she says in a concerning tone, forcing me to open my eyes and search her out. I turn my head to the side to see her standing above me at the edge of the bed. “Didn’t you use protection?”
“Yes, a condom. And you know I’m on the pill. But…” I trail off, recalling now how I found it odd I was behind a pill last month. I didn’t think much of it, blaming it on the craziness of my life and knowing that Silas used a condom, I didn’t think I had to worry. Guess I was wrong. “I missed a pill during the week of your wedding and condoms are only 98% effective.”
“I’m aware. I think anyone who’s watched Friends knows that condoms don’t work all of the time.”
“Well, do I need to run out and get you a pregnancy test like Phoebe did for Rachel too?”
That suggestion has me launching back up. “Hell no. This isn’t the time or the place for me to do that. Besides, I don’t know that I’m actually pregnant. I could just have a stomach bug and there are many factors that can cause a period to be late.”
“But you just—” Waverly starts to argue, but I cut her off.
“No. This is your day. Today is not about me.” I stand up, fighting the nausea, but holding strong. “I will deal with this tomorrow. Let’s finish celebrating the fact that you and Hayes actually like each other now,” I joke.
The two of them force out smiles, but I can still see their concern, and before I can say anything else, Shayla reaches out for my hand, intertwining her fingers with mine.
“Chloe, no matter what happens…you know we’ll be here for you, right?” And the look in her eyes, the way she rubs her thumb over the top of my hand has tears building in my eyes. Jesus, now I can’t get a handle on my emotions?
You know what that means, Chloe…
No, shut up sub-conscience. You don’t know shit.
“I know, Shayla.” I squeeze her hand as Waverly pulls me in for a hug.
“I’m here too. And I know this probably isn’t what you want to hear, but a baby that is part you and part Silas?” She shakes her head. “That’s gonna be one good-looking kid.”
Laughter escapes my lips as my two friends chuckle as well. “Damn right.”
“Just one more thing,” Shayla says while leaning forward and whispering. “How was the sex?”
“Oh, yes! I want to know that too!” Waverly adds. “Silas has always been so…mysterious to me. I barely know much about him, but he seems like he’d be an animal in bed.”
Sighing, I let my mind travel back over that night, reliving it once more even though I tend to do that more than I’d care to admit. “I came three times,” I admit, focusing on what really matters and giving my friends the answer they’d expect.
Because the fact that it was the best sex I’d ever had, the fact that he was tender while taking control, and the fact that I wanted a repeat, which is not something I do—well those details I can keep close to the belt for right now.
“Damn,” Shayla says while shaking her head. “And his…you know?”
“His dick?” She nods and Waverly laughs. “You know you can say the word, Shayla. We’re not little kids anymore.”
She shoves me playfully on the shoulder. “I know. It’s just…weird asking about another man’s junk when I’m married now.”
“I’m married too, but I still want to know,” Waverly adds.
“Perfect. Long, thick, and he definitely knew how to use it.”
“Well, at least if you did get pregnant, it was worth it.”
“I’d have to agree.”
* * *Once I feel ready to exit the room, I follow my two friends out to return to the celebration. Luckily, it seems the rest of the guests weren’t paying too much attention when I ran toward the bathroom earlier, and I want to keep it that way.
I am still hungry, even though no food sounds appetizing anymore, but I find a tray of fruit on the buffet and decide to partake in a few pieces of watermelon and a croissant, figuring if they come back up, at least it shouldn’t taste too bad. Nothing like that shrimp did. Note to self: no more seafood for the time being.
While snacking on my food at my table under the tent, I decide to people watch, one of my favorite activities. But my eyes land on a family in the corner, struggling to get their toddler to sit still long enough so they can eat. The mom looks exasperated as the father drains the rest of his drink before lifting the child out of the seat and walking off, giving the mother a break.
Was this my future? Struggling to finish a meal because of a screaming child? Relying on Silas to take the kid away so I could have a moment of peace?
And then it hits me. Would Silas even want to be involved? He doesn’t seem like the type of man to run from his responsibilities, but you never know how someone will react to unexpected news—an unexpected child.
Would we co-parent? Share custody? Would he even want me to keep the baby?
Or would he want me too?
No one wants you, Chloe. Your parents didn’t, so who’s to say Silas would.
The internal demons I battle on a daily basis start throwing out their running taglines, which only has my emotions bubbling up inside again. But this time they win and a tear slips over the threshold of my eye.
“Chloe?” I lift my head to find Silas staring down at me, concern etched into the line of his face. “Are you okay?”
I swipe at the tear and try to recover before he starts asking too many questions, questions I don’t have the answers to right now. “Oh, yes. I’m fine. Something got in my eye.”
He takes a seat while studying me, clearly not buying my story. “Are you sure?”
“Yup. I’m good.” I force out a tight-lipped smile and then recover quickly. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Silas?”
The corner of his mouth tips up and then he leans back in his chair. “I just wanted to say hello. I saw you earlier, but then you disappeared. I didn’t want you to think I was…avoiding you, or anything.”
Ugh, this man. Why does he have to say shit like that? And why is it making me want to cry again? Fuck these hormones.
“You don’t owe me anything, Silas, remember?” I lean forward and whisper in case anyone is eavesdropping. “We agreed to no-strings, right?”
“Well, yeah. But I don’t want things to be awkward between us. I know we’ll still cross paths since our friends are married now.”
Well, things might get very awkward if I’m carrying your baby.
“Sex is natural, Silas. You saw my vagina and I saw your dick. No one has to know that.”
He chokes on his saliva and then regains his composure. “Yes, well, that’s true. Jesus, woman…you sure do know how to tell it like it is.”
“It’s part of my charm,” I say, shrugging and then smiling in his direction.
And his eyes narrow as he smiles back at me. “That it is.”
“So, how is business?” I ask, attempting to make small talk, even though the longer I sit here, the more I’m growing uneasy. I feel like there’s a ticking time bomb in my stomach and it’s about to explode. Or rather, I’m about to suffer from a bout of verbal diarrhea and tell Silas I might be pregnant. But there’s no point in freaking him out when I don’t know for sure.
“Good. I’m making progress on the restaurant in Goleta,” he replies, reminding me that he spoke about that location back in Aruba with Grace.
“That’s very close to Santa Barbara.”
“Yes, it is. It’s nice to be home, getting to see my sisters and my grandmother.”
Oh God, his family. What will they say if I’m actually pregnant?
Suddenly, my stomach is rolling again and nerves seep deep into my bones. I can’t sit here any longer. I need to walk away before I throw up on him or say something I regret.
“That’s nice. Well, it was nice talking to you, Silas,” I say while standing swiftly, pushing in my chair. “Take care.” I spin around and start marching off.
“Chloe!” he calls out behind me, but I just wave over my shoulder and keep walking, heading straight for the bathroom, and then throwing up once more.
And I guess I was right. Watermelon coming back up doesn’t taste nearly as bad. Guess I should add that to the list of safe foods to eat for a few weeks.
* * *I stare down at the two pink lines on the test sitting on my bathroom counter, taking note of how quickly they appeared. I contemplated being one of those women who sets a timer on their phone and walking away from the test, but deep down, I knew the answer. My cycle has always been regular and I’ve been throwing up like clockwork for the past two days. Plus, as soon as I set it down and washed my hands, the lines appeared. There wasn’t even time for me to walk away and wait.
“Fuck.” Tears well in my eyes as I grab my phone and dial the first and only person I have to tell, besides Silas. Jesus, how do I tell him this?
“Chloe?” Shayla answers on the first ring, which doesn’t surprise me since she knew I was taking a test today. She offered to take the day off from work and be here, but I told her no. Shayla is my family, my best friend, and I know I’m going to need to lean on her a lot now, but this was something I needed to do on my own.
“So, you’re going to be an aunt,” I declare, sniffling away from the phone to hide my reaction. And here’s the thing, I don’t even know why I’m crying. Am I sad? Maybe a little. Am I happy? I guess I should be. But these feel more like tears from fear.
“Oh my God, Chloe!” she screams full of excitement. “I knew it!”
“Yeah, I did too. I just don’t think I wanted to accept it.”
“Are you… are you okay?” The thrill in her voice turns to worry in a flash. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be celebrating something if you’re not happy about it.”
I sigh and leave the bathroom, heading into my room where I lie down on my bed, curling up on my side. “I’m not sure how I feel about it yet, Shayla. This is…”
“I know. It’s a lot.”
“I didn’t plan this. A baby? That’s the last fucking thing on my mind. And this doesn’t just change my life, it changes Silas’s too.”
“Damn. You have to tell him now, huh?”
“Eventually. I just don’t know how to have that conversation. ‘Hey, thanks for fucking my brains out a few months ago after I basically threw myself at you. But guess what? We made a baby that night and now you’re going to be a daddy!’ It just sounds like I trapped him.”
“Chloe, shit happens, and I don’t think Silas will react that way.”
“How do you know? We barely know him, Shayla. All I know is he has the body of a God, the most beautiful penis I’ve ever seen or had inside of me, and he has three younger sisters and runs a restaurant empire.”
“That’s a lot more than some people know about their one-night-stands,” she counters.
“Yes, but doesn’t that sound like a man that is going to shit his pants when I tell him?”
She sighs. “I can’t speculate what his reaction is going to be, and neither can you. But you have to tell him.”
“Maybe I’ll just wait for the baby to grow up and start talking. I’ll let the baby tell him.”
She chuckles. “Referencing Friends again?”
“You know, Rachel was on to something with that line of thinking.”
“Chloe…”
“I know, Shayla. Please don’t get all motherly on me. You know, ever since you got married, you’re no fun anymore. You softened up too. Where’s the fiery girl I met back in middle school who was always down for a good time?”
“I’m still her, Chloe. I’ve just…grown up a bit, that’s all. And guess what? Now it’s your turn.”
“Don’t I fucking know it,” I grumble. “I can’t be a mom, Shayla. I don’t even know what having a mom looks like,” I say, attempting to recall any memory of my own mother that I can. But the few I have are from such a long time ago, and they’re pretty fuzzy. I guess that’s what happens when both of your parents die from a drug overdose when you’re ten and you’re thrown into the foster care system.
I bounced around a few foster homes until I turned fourteen, and then got thrown into group home after group home. No one wants to adopt a teenager with issues. They want babies that they can groom and raise from birth, so I remained alone until I turned eighteen and Shayla and I moved to Santa Barbara with nothing but a few boxes in the backseat of her car.
Shayla has always been my family, the only person I have ever been able to count on, the only person that knows the real me.
“Aw, Chloe,” she says, and I can hear the emotion in her voice, which only makes more tears form in my eyes. “You can do this. I didn’t have that great of an example to follow either, but you are the strongest person I know. You are going to be an incredible mom because you love with your whole heart. And I’m here. I will always be here.” I wipe my nose with the back of my hand. “God, I wish I were there to hug you right now, Chloe. Please don’t cry. Just remember…you’ve got to keep swimming.”
“Are you quoting Finding Nemo right now?”
“I was hoping it would make you laugh.”
“You know I love that fucking movie.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking, not letting you be here for this. I’m freaking the fuck out, Shayla.”
“Just breathe. You have time to figure everything out. Take today to relax and get some rest. I know the morning sickness has been kicking your ass.” And it has. I’ve never felt so sick in my life. I’m nauseous all day and am having trouble keeping anything down. “And you need to make an appointment to see your gynecologist.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Might want to Google what to do until you get in to see your doctor too. Do you have any idea what your due date might be?”
“I literally just took the test, Shayla. I need a minute to process this.”
“I know, I’m just saying. You should have some idea, right?”
Of course I’ve thought about it over the past two days. All of a sudden, everything seems to be thoughts of dates and timelines I’ll be crossing over the next seven months. “Sometime in March since your wedding was in June.”
“I still can’t believe you slept with him and didn’t tell me.” She teases.
“Well, sometimes a girl just doesn’t like to kiss and tell.”
“Not you. You’re always willing to discuss your sex life. And he gave you three orgasms? I’m shocked you didn’t tell me about that unless…” she pauses and then sucks in a harsh breath as I wince. Damn the woman knows me too well. “Chloe…do you…have feelings for him?”
I laugh a little too forcefully. “I don’t do feelings, Shayla. We just agreed to keep things between us, especially since we didn’t want it to become a big deal with our extremely nosy friends,” I chastise her.
“Huh. Yeah, okay. But something tells me there’s more to it than that.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter. Now there’s a baby coming sooner rather than later and that needs to be the focus.”
“So…you’re sure you’re going to keep it?” she asks reluctantly. And I’d be lying if the thought hadn’t crossed my mind in the past forty-eight hours.
A child was not in my plans. And I don’t have plans for my life. Hell, I never thought I’d be the type to get married and have a family at all. That’s just not something I envisioned for myself, and I never wanted to end up like my parents and leave a child behind, or make them feel unloved.
“Yes, Shayla. I’m keeping my baby. I just don’t think I could go through with an abortion. I know there are women who do for various reasons, and not to shame them, but I’d feel too guilty. And I know what it’s like to not have a family, or feel unwanted, so adoption is out of the question.” And as scary as this is, I can’t help but think that maybe this happened for a reason—like I’m getting a chance to break the cycle that my parents started with me—raising a child in a healthy environment and giving it all the love I never got.
Damn, these hormones are making me extremely analytical and reflective. I need a drink to deal with this shit.
Oh, but there will be no more drinking for you for a while, Chloe.
Fuck.
“I’m just making sure. You know it’s my duty as the best friend to ask the tough questions.”
“I feel like you’re not even close to being done with that responsibility either.”
“Nope. So, here’s the next one? When are you going to tell Silas?”
As if I haven’t been thinking the same thing. Just sitting near him at the wedding, knowing I was keeping a secret from him even though I didn’t truly know the answer, was enough to have me avoiding the problem.
But I can’t avoid this any longer. There’s a baby coming and that is a timeline I have no control over.
“I don’t know, Shayla. I’ll… I’ll figure it out. I don’t even have his phone number.”
“That’s an easy problem to solve. I can get it from Wes.”
“And tell him what? That you need it so I can tell him I’m pregnant?” And then another thought hits me as I launch up in bed. “You haven’t told Wes yet, have you? I don’t want him saying anything to Silas before I can. Or worse, Hayes. Hayes has a big, fat mouth.”
“No, I haven’t said anything, Chloe. What kind of friend do you think I am?”
“The kind that is married now and tells her husband everything.”
She laughs. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s going to be hard to keep this from him, and the man can read me like a book, so I’m sure he’ll sense something’s up. But I promise, I’ll keep it close to the belt.” She pauses and then gasps. “Oh! I know! Why don’t I ask for his number to invite him to a game night? Waverly and I have been wanting to have one with all six of us, and it would be the perfect opportunity for you to see him and to tell him.”
“I’m not going to tell him in front of everyone. That would be like kicking him in the balls in front of everyone. He wouldn’t even be expecting it and then he’d be caught off-guard while holding his nut sack.”
Shayla laughs. “Obviously you can tell him in private. But this way, it’s just more natural to be in the same space instead of calling him up and asking him to meet, just the two of you. That might freak him out.”
The woman does have a point. I told Silas I wouldn’t be that girl that bothers him, so this could work out well. He’s still going to be shocked, but at least the conversation can happen naturally and I can still pull him to the side to have it.
“Newsflash. The man will probably be freaked out either way, but whatever. I’m in. As long as you have buffalo wings, I’m there.” Suddenly, the strangest craving for buffalo wings assaults my taste buds and my stomach growls. Given that I haven’t really eaten anything today, I should probably find something I can keep down soon.
“Buffalo wings it is. I’ll text everyone and let them know the time, and then you’ll have me there for support in case things don’t go well.”
I lie back down again and stare up at the ceiling. “Thank you. This…this is going to be okay, right Shayla?”
“Yes, Chloe. It will. And I know you’re freaking out, but I am so excited to hold this little baby! I’m going to be an auntie! I didn’t ever think I would be one. I don’t have any siblings, you know. And no offense, but I never took you for the settling down type.”
“Tell me how you really feel,” I mock her.
“Don’t sit there and pretend you didn’t feel the same way or say those exact words before.”
“I know. You’re right. This isn’t what I wanted, but I guess life had other plans.”
“Yup. You’re about to embark on a crazy adventure, and I’ll be here every step of the way. Okay, I need to get back to work. We have several classes tonight at the facility and I need to make sure everything is ready before I head home.” Shayla works at the Wings & Wheels facility that Wes built for his younger half-brother, Nolan. Nolan is paralyzed from the waist down from an accident when he was younger. Wes built a center for him and kids like him with varying disabilities, and my best friend now helps run it.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll let you go.”
“I love you, Chloe. Everything is going to be alright.”
“Love you too, Shayla,” I say before ending the call. Letting out one more heavy sigh which only mimics the heaviness resting on my chest right now, I stand up and head for my kitchen in the apartment I used to share with Shayla.
Trying to decide on something to eat right now is a tougher decision than figuring out what I’m going to say to Silas. I can’t even go grocery shopping because something that sounds good in the store might not the next day. I end up calling for a delivery of buffalo wings from a local pizza joint, and by the time they arrive the craving is still there, which I take full advantage of as I scarf them down while watching Bridgerton on Netflix.
“If a man got off that fast and didn’t make me come, I’d be kicking him in the dick!” I shout at the television around a mouthful of chicken wings. Sex portrayed in television shows and books is so far off from reality sometimes. Any self-respecting woman will admit that it takes a whole lot of work to get off and almost always a toy is involved. I feel bad for the girls and young women who watch this stuff and expect to have an orgasm in less than five minutes from just the man’s dick. When are we going to start normalizing what sex is really like in our culture?
Silas didn’t balk at my vibrator when I whipped it out during sex. In fact, he’s one of the few men I’ve slept with that made me come without one. And now thanks to revisiting that night with him, I’m slightly horny but too tired to move from my spot.
Annoyed with the Duke of Hastings, I turn off Netflix and go back to my comfort show—the Antique Roadshow. Shayla is the only one who knows that this show is my vice.
There’s something about watching these people find artifacts that have substantial value, pieces of history that mean something to someone else. But the real aspect I love is when they bring on family heirlooms and they tell the stories attached to them.
Call me sentimental, but since I don’t have items like those myself, I live vicariously through the people on the show. One day I hope to have something to pass on to my child, something of value, but more of the sentimental kind. And as that thought assaults my mind, so does a deep level of exhaustion.
I stifle a yawn and then place the container of wings on the coffee table before lowering myself down on the couch. Exhaustion hits me out of nowhere right now, but I’m almost done with this episode, so I’ll just lie down until it’s finished, and then get ready for bed after.
I turn around to look at the time on the microwave. Six-thirty? Am I really going to be in bed before eight?
Apparently that’s exactly what my body wants because within a few minutes, I doze off and wake up to crusty buffalo sauce on my fingers and ranch in the corner of my mouth.
Classy, Chloe. Real classy.
Guess I should get used to passing out randomly now while this child continues to suck the life out of me. But hey. At least I was able to keep those buffalo wings down. Add those to the list of things I can eat.