Maybe this is the way. Maybe if this is still on her mind tomorrow then I could talk to her. We could make a baby together and she could see that I want her. She could fall for me and not run away.
She always runs. Sometimes, she just ducks out with no warning for a couple of days. It’s why I put the damn tracker on her car in the first place. I couldn’t stand the idea that she might need help some day and I wouldn’t know how to find her.
Granted, she hasn’t left in over two years. But it’s still a knife to my gut every time it happens. If I look underneath her bed, I already know what I’ll find. A backpack with everything she’d need to skip town.
Getting sent away from every family she’s ever stayed with has done a number on my girl. But I want her to know that it’s safe enough to stay. That I’ll never want her to go away.
It’s sick and twisted and wrong but maybe a baby is the way to do that. Maybe a baby will help her see that I want her for life. But even if it doesn’t, would co-parenting with my best friend really be such a terrible thing? Would getting those stolen moments where I can pretend we’re a family be so horrible?
This is Peyton though. She doesn’t do strong emotions. She’ll leave at the first sign that this is getting intense.
I’ll have to play my cards carefully and keep all of my arguments logical. No strong emotions or declarations of any kind. But that’s OK. I can shove my feelings down for a little while longer if it means I can have her in the end. Maybe by this time next year, I’ll have the family I’ve always wanted.
With my mind made up, I reach for my phone to begin my research. I’m having a baby with my best friend.
* * *
Peyton
“Stop playing the drums!”I shout as I turn over in my bed. I hate my neighbor for giving his nine-year-old kid that drum set. It never fails that he starts up first thing in the morning on the weekends.
Honey licks my face to comfort me and that’s when I realize the pounding drums aren’t outside my head. They’re inside. I sit up slowly, cradling my head like it’s about to roll off my shoulders. It definitely feels that way.Why do I have this migraine?
Flashes from the night before start to play in my mind. I remember reaching for the alcohol while I was on shift after seeing that video of Abby.
“Thought I heard you making noise,” Ledger says as he pushes his way into my bedroom. He’s wearing the same clothes he was last night, isn’t he?
“Did you stay here?” I ask as he shoves a plate full of cheesy scrambled eggs and bacon my way. Even the toast is perfectly done the exact way I like it. My stomach growls as I shove a big bite into my mouth.
He takes a seat in my armchair, the one I rescued from the thrift store for five dollars. It’s now my reading nook where I sit with my tablet and read all my favorite trashy romances. I’m reading an alien love story right now. The hero is big and blue and has a tail. Seems I need a break from all those cowboys with the big Stetsons and Southern drawls.
“You were pretty wasted.”
I cram as much of the toast in my mouth as I can, not caring that he’s watching me. I went hungry enough to lose my ability to be self-conscious. When there’s food, you eat. You eat as much of it as you can because there may not be another meal coming for a while.
“You’re looking at me funny,” I tell him as the strawberry jam flavor explodes on my tongue. Weird, I thought I was out of my favorite jam. Something about last night tickles at my memory. Did I do something embarrassing like try to dance? Or attempt to belt out my favorite girl power song?
“Just want to make sure you’re OK.” His tone is too casual.
“OK, I give. What did I do?” I check my skin for new tattoos but there aren’t any. Not that I should even look. Ledger would keep me from doing something permanent when I was that wasted. His tendency to be my bodyguard might annoy the shit out of me but it’s also comforting. He always has my back no matter what.
He gives me an impish grin. “It’ll come back to you later.”
I finish my food, pausing to sneak bites to Honey. When I’m done, Ledger passes me a handful of pills for my headache, and I take them with a glass of water.
“Guess I should shower,” I tell him as I push to my feet. Something is still niggling at the back of my mind. What did I forget? I think we talked. It must have been important.
“Sure thing.” He gathers my dishes and leaves the room, whistling.
I glance at Honey. “The man knows something he’s not telling us.”
She makes a small yip of agreement and follows me into the bathroom. She waits patiently on the floor while I take a cold shower to ease the pounding in my head. After, I dress in a t-shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans. Just as I’m wiping steam off the bathroom mirror, the pieces fall into place.
A baby. I told Ledger I wanted a baby for Christmas.
Shit, shit, shit. He knows now. Of course, he has to know.A girl just doesn’t ask her best friend for a baby, and he not know she’s caught feelings. Is this going to totally destroy our friendship? Panic claws at me at the thought. I can’t lose him. I can’t lose Ledger.
No, I have to play this off. I have to go to him and pretend I didn’t mean it. That I don’t want babies. And especially nothisbabies.