The First Rule by Nicole S. Goodin

3

Darcy

I feelmy jaw fall open like you see in the movies.

Did he just…?

I must have heard wrong. I have to be more wasted than I think I am, because there is no way in hell that Ryan Steele just offered to be my sperm donor.

I climb off the bed in slow motion, and as soon as I’m on my feet, I realise that yes, I am that drunk.

Not so drunk that I don’t know what I’m doing, but clearly drunk enough that I’m imagining things that can’t be happening, because there is just no damn way…

I laugh out loud at myself.

“Darcy?” Ryan questions.

My eyes find his. He’s watching me with a mixture of surprise, regret and hope etched into his handsome features – as though he’s somehow heard the nonsense going on inside my brain.

“I think I had too much to drink, I could have sworn you just –”

“Offered to be the father of your child?” he cuts me off. “You heard right, Darce.”

We stare at one another for what feels like an eternity.

“What the fuck?” The words fall from my lips.

He just shrugs, unspeaking, while his eyes say a thousand different things.

“Are you high?” I demand.

He chuckles, and the sound does something strange to my chest. That’s one thing that has never been the same about Jake and Ryan – the way they laugh. I’ve only heard Ryan laugh a handful of times before now, but each time it’s given me this feeling of déjà vu… that sensation you get when something is pulling at a distant memory, but you can’t quite connect the dots.

When Jacob laughed, it always felt forced.

“No. I’m not into drugs these days.”

I raise a brow at him. “These days?”

“I dabbled in my younger years.” He shrugs his shoulders. “But I get the feeling you’re veering away from the questions you really want to ask me, Darcy.”

I feel myself sway a little bit on my feet, and I shake my head to clear my thoughts.

I need a minute to figure out if I’m having some type of out-of-body experience or if this is all really happening.

I hold up one finger, indicating that I want him to give me a minute.

I sink to the ground and cross my legs under myself – no easy task given the five hundred layers of fabric covering my body.

Jacob left me at the altar… fact or fake?

I glance down at my ring finger and find it bare.

Fact.

I’m in the bridal suite with Ryan… fact or fake?

I look back to the bed and find him sitting on the edge, watching me patiently.

Fact.

He just offered to try and knock me up… fact or fake?

I meet his eyes, and it’s all right there.

Fact. Definitely fact.

“Why?” I whisper. “Why would you do that for me? Jacob would never speak to you again.”

He huffs out a humourless laugh. “I couldn’t care less about him; he’d be doing me a favour… but you wouldn’t have to tell a soul, Darce.”

“I think people might have questions about who the father is, Ryan.”

“Then tell them if you want to.”

“But imagine what people will say.”

“What gives you the impression I care about ‘people’?”

I don’t know why I’m even having this discussion with him. The answer is no. It’s the only answer for it. Anything else would be total madness. I cannot let my ex-fiancé’s twin brother father my child. I just can’t. And besides that, I could be the reason Jacob and I couldn’t conceive – this whole conversation is moot.

Then why do I so badly want to say yes?

“Ryan… I…”

“You deserve something good, Darcy. Something for you. Not for anyone but you. If you want to be a mother, if you’re ready right now, then you should be a mother. I can’t imagine anyone better for the job.”

“I don’t know…”

“There’s no pressure. There’s no expiry date. You don’t have to decide anything right now.”

He really wants this for me. I can see it on his face. He wants me to be happy. Not for appearances. Not for personal gain. It’s for me.

Fuck it. It’s time I thought about me.

It’s crazy. It’s reckless... and I’m going to do it anyway, I realise.

“Okay,” I breathe.

He nods. “You just think about it, and let me know when you’ve decided.”

“No.” I shake my head. “Not, okay I’ll think about it… I’m saying okay, let’s do it.” My heart is beating so rapidly I’m sure he would be able to hear it from across the room, but it’s not in panic, it’s in excitement.

I don’t know if it’s the tequila talking, but I want this. It’s time I looked after myself, put myself first – no one else is going to – that’s one thing that has been made abundantly clear to me today.

He looks shocked, as though there was no world in which he thought I’d actually agree to this.

I manage a giggle. “It’s not too late to back out if you didn’t mean it,” I say, sincerely.

He shakes his head instantly. “Never.”

I feel nervous all of a sudden. I don’t know what the hell I’m thinking, maybe I’m not thinking at all. Maybe I should sleep on it, decide when my body isn’t pumped full of alcohol and heartbreak, but that approach – living my life with caution is what has led me to this point. Maybe it’s time I tried something new.

I’ve got nothing to lose. Literally nothing. It’s a sad, but honest realisation.

Ryan is watching me with a focus like nothing I’ve ever seen before, it’s as though my every thought is being displayed above my head in neon lettering and he’s simply plucking them out of the sky.

He sees the moment I make my final decision. Yes.

“We need an agreement, with rules,” I think aloud.

He sips his drink, contemplating my suggestion. “Rules are good.”

I nod, even though there is no way I’m going through with this. Except that I am. I really, really am.

“We need a piece of paper.”

“I’ve got my phone?” he suggests.

I shake my head quickly and then regret it for how lightheaded it makes me feel. “We have to sign it. It has to be paper.”

He smirks, he clearly thinks I’m overreacting, but he gets up anyway and starts opening and shutting drawers, searching for something to write on. “Got a pen.” He holds up the pen to show me.

“Paper?” It’s a one-word question, but for some reason it sends my heart into a gallop again.

He rifles through a drawer for a moment longer. “I’m coming up empty here, Darce.”

I guess couples in the honeymoon suite usually aren’t writing notes.

I watch nervously as he goes to the bedside table on the far side of the bed. “This will do.”

He holds up a copy of the bible.

“Ryan,” I hiss at him. “We’re probably already going to hell if we go through with this, we don’t need to seal the deal by defacing a holy book.”

“You’re not religious, are you?”

I shake my head. “No, but –”

“Me neither.” He winks at me. “So I figure it’s just a book in that case.”

My eyes widen as I watch him tear out a page.

“Oh relax. This is a blank page anyway; you can’t send me to hell for a blank page.”

“Tell that to the devil at the front gate,” I grumble to myself.

He slaps the sheet of paper down on the desk and moves around the room to retrieve our empty glasses and the near-empty bottle of tequila.

I watch from my spot on the floor as he pours his to the rim and half fills mine. “Rule number one…” he prompts as he picks up the pen and starts writing.

“No catching feelings,” I provide. I’ve had enough feelings to last me a lifetime, I’m sure as hell not looking to catch any more.

He glances at me over his shoulder, his expression unreadable.

“What?” I shrug at him. “It might not be a problem for you, but I’m a girl. I struggle to separate sex and feelings.”

“That’s the problem though, isn’t it, Darce? You can’t catch something you already have.”

I frown, not understanding. “What?”

“Nothing, just forget it.” An emotion crosses his features, a pained look that is gone again so quickly I decide I must have imagined it. I am pretty drunk after all.

His focus shifts to the sheet of paper in front of him and he scrawls down the words, the only sound in the room the scratching of the pen as he writes.

“Here I was thinking you were going to insist on the turkey baster method,” he says without glancing up.

I feel my cheeks colour. “Shit… I –”

“Relax.” He chuckles. “I was just kidding.”

I can feel the deep red staining my cheeks, and I hope like hell that I still have enough makeup on my face to cover it.

His eyes meet mine. “Rule number two?”

I think for a moment. “We do this one time, and one time only.”

“What if it doesn’t work?”

Then it’s probably for the best.

Then you will have got off lucky.

Then you’ll never have to see me again.

“Then it wasn’t meant to happen,” I finally say.

He nods, once, and adds the rule to the list.

“Is that it?” he questions.

I shake my head. “Two rules doesn’t seem like enough. One more.”

He gestures for me to go on.

“Rule number three…” I get to my feet, my head feeling clearer than before, and stroll around in a slow circle. “This is our little secret,” I finally say.

Ryan might not care what people say, but I do. I don’t want to be that girl. This might work, it might not… Hell, for all I know I might leave town and never come back, but either way, this isn’t something we need to share with the world.

I half expect to see hurt or disapproval cross his face, but he gives me no reaction, instead just jotting down the third and final rule.

“Now I guess we both sign it,” he says.

I nod, cross the room and hold my hand out for the pen.