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Gail doesn’t respond, but I feel her hand slide under my shirt, caressing my stomach. I shouldn’t be surprised by how soothing her touch is, like she’s thawing the icy wall I’ve erected around, well, not just my heart, but my entire being since Simone first gave me my dream, then ripped it away along with any trust and love I had in me.
Love… I think that’s what I’m feeling at this moment; an overwhelming, crushing amount of love for Gail. I’ve felt it before, especially at Cupid’s Court, there was just something about her, and the way she soothed the raging storm inside me. But since finding out that Abby and Gail were the same person, and that there’s a baby, I shut it down tight, refusing to see what was right in front of me.
“I never suspected the kid wasn’t mine. All I saw was the chance to get what I always wanted; a family of my own.”
“Oh, God,” she whispers. “You never saw it coming?”
Forcing out a dark laugh, I shake my head. “Nope. Afterwards, everyone was busy telling me that they knew something was off with Simone, but no one ever had enough care to share.”
The memories of all those fucktards I don’t speak to anymore are enough to awaken my anger. Back then, I didn’t get it, not fully. The importance of surrounding yourself with people who aren’t all about image, fame, and money.
“Soren and Sawyer were the only ones who never gave me empty platitudes,” I say, chuckling as I remember my friends beating the shit out of Jared for me.
“What about your parents?” Gail asks, sliding her hand further up my body until it’s resting on top of my heart.
Sighing, I explain, “We don’t really talk anymore. I mean, we talk once every other month, and I go there every other year for Christmas. But that’s it. They feel like it was me who drove Simone into Jared’s arms since I apparently ‘didn’t keep her happy’.” I make air quotes with my free hand around the last part.
Gail gasps. “They said that?”
“Sure did,” I confirm.
The longer we lie on her bed, the easier it becomes to talk about my past. Gail doesn’t judge me, I can hear it in her tone. If anything, she’s judging the fuck out of Simone and Jared, but not me.
“So that’s why you’ve been such a shit about the pregnancy?” she finally asks.
“Guess so,” I say, then I grimace as she pinches my skin. “Hey!”
Laughing, she pinches my nipple. “Don’t be a dick, Mickey. You’ve taken all this out on me, and I wasn’t even there. I’ve done nothing to deserve your anger or mistrust.”
Clearing my throat, I consider her words. There’s some truth to them, I can admit that. Though she also has to own the fact that her timing was fucking off. Telling us about the pregnancy the way she did… yeah. Finding out about her identity and pregnancy within the span of minutes was a bit fucking much.
“Okay,” I agree. “I’m sorry I took it out on you.”
She sits up, pulling off her sweater before straddling me. Taking my hands, she guides them to her hips. “I’m sorry I unknowingly messed with the birth control.”
“You should be,” I grumble, only half meaning it.
“And I’m sorry I was such an amazing lay I kept you coming back for more,” she grins, rocking her hips slightly.
That… she was—is.
“Are you really sorry about that?” I ask, grinning up at her.
Tilting her head to the side, she looks down at me. Her expression is completely unguarded. “No, Mickey. I’m sorry you’re both assholes who acted the way you did. But I’m not sorry for any time we spent together at Cupid’s Court.”
“Smartass,” I chuckle, squeezing said ass.
Then I move my hands under her lacy top, tracing idle patterns on her back. When she doesn’t stop me, I slide one hand to her front, splaying it across her flat stomach, imagining what it’ll be like when it swells with… Fet.
“Is that okay?” I murmur, my voice a low rumble in the quiet of her apartment.
“Y-Yeah,” Gail breathes out, a slight tremor in her voice. Her hips shift restlessly under the sheets, and I sense the change in her, the desire blooming like a fierce blizzard within her. It’s intoxicating, the power of her need pulling me deeper into the storm.
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” I press on, though every cell in my body rebels against the thought.
“Don’t stop,” she whispers, her blue eyes darkening like the sky before a heavy snowfall.
Encouraged, my hand boldly moves up to cup her breast over the fabric of her bra. She arches into my touch, a silent plea for more.
