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She turns toward me, light in her eyes, but her tone is dark.
I’m confused. The Pop-Tart was a sure-fire win.
“Why do you do all this stuff for me, Carson? I mean, your hand on my back, the snacks, the blanket, the knocking the rude guy out.”
I wrinkle my brows. “He needed to be punched.”
“No, he didn’t. He was just being friendly and didn’t know boundaries. People touch my stomach all the time. It happens to everyone.”
“I don’t care what other people do,” I growl. “You won’t have anyone touching you without permission.”
She huffs out a sigh and shakes her head. “Then why have you been ignoring me? I mean, we used to be so close. Now, we barely talk anymore.”
I blow out a heavy breath and stare out the front window, unsure of how to have this conversation. I can’t tell her that I’ve stayed away the last few years because I can’t stop thinking about bending her over. I can’t tell her that getting invested in her means wanting to murder everyone who talks to her. I can’t tell her that I’ve been in love with her for as long as I can remember.
“You’ve been busy.” Admittedly, this isn’t the best excuse.
“I havenotbeen busy!”
I nod toward her stomach. “You look like you’ve been busy.”
She narrows her brows and twists toward me. “Wow.Really? Is that some kind of slut shaming thing, because I’m pretty sure you’ve done your share of fucking around. So, maybe stop being a judgmental jerk.”
I’m not saying the right things. I get that. “No. I’m just… curious why you let an asshole knock you up.”
She folds her arms over her chest and looks away. “It’s none of your business what I do with my life, Carson. You checked out of that a long time ago.”
“Stop making excuses and talk to me. What did you see in that asshole that made you think you should let him touch you?”
She rolls her eyes and glances toward me for a moment before looking away again. “You don’t know him like I do.”
“Well, you’re collecting your things from his fucking house with security, so he can’t have been that great. Besides, I looked him up. He has a reputation three counties wide for drug shit.”
She shakes her head. “You don’t know him like I did.”
“You trying to tell me the drug dealing psychopath is a nice guy deep down?”
“No,” she lifts her hand as though she’s wiping away a tear, “I’m saying I thought he was. Look, I get it… I’m fucking up my life. Whatever, just leave me alone.”
Fuck. I don’t want her to be upset. That wasn’t the goal. I want her to be happy. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.
“You’re not fucking up your life, bug. You’re—”
“While we’re at it, Ihateit when you call me, bug.”
My chest squeezes. “You hate bug? I’ve called you bug forever.”
“Right, when I was seventeen. I’m twenty-five now.”
“Okay… what would you prefer I call you?”
“I don’t know,” she snaps, “just not bug.”
Jesus, I’ve called her bug so long I can’t imagine calling her anything else.
“Alright, well…Sky… I’m sorry I offended you. Who you date and choose to father your baby is none of my business.” Everything in that sentence is bullshit, including the part where I call her Sky.
“He doesn’t know he’s the father.” She swallows hard and pulls a tissue from the glove box like she knew they were there. “He can’t know he’s the father.”
