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We’ll get married when we’re ready, and we both know that the wait has nothing to do with not being sure. It’s what we both want, there’s no mistaking that.
I hear Andrew rustling the keys in the apartment door and I meet him there. I jump up, wrapping my legs tight around his waist, and kiss him fully on the mouth. He slams the door shut with his foot and wraps his arms around me, keeping his lips locked with mine.
“What was that for?” he asks, pulling away.
“I’m just excited.”
His dimples deepen.
I hold on to him with my arms draped around his neck as he carries me through the living room and into the kitchen.
“I wish I would’ve taken you home sooner,” he says, setting me on top of the bar. He stands between my suspended legs and tosses his keys on the counter.
“None of that guilty stuff,” I say, pecking him once on the lips. “I’ll miss Texas if I stay in North Carolina too long, I’m sure.”
He smiles but doesn’t seem convinced of that.
“You don’t have to make a decision now,” he says, “but I do want you to decide where we’re going to live, and I don’t want you picking Texas because of me. I love my mom, but I won’t be as homesick as you.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Because I’ve lived on my own for a while,” he says. “You never got the chance to do that before you left Raleigh.”
He grins, stepping back subtly, and adds, “Besides, you’re all hormonal and crazy and shit, so I’ll gladly do whatever you say and you won’t get any arguments from me.”
I playfully kick my leg out at him, but miss him on purpose.
He leans in between my legs, lifts the end of my shirt, and then presses his warm lips against my belly.
“What about Billy Frank?” I ask as he lifts upright. “If you leave him again he might never hire you back.”
Andrew laughs and makes his way around the bar and toward the cabinets. I swing around on the top of the bar to face him, hanging my legs over the opposite side.
“Billy Frank has been my boss off and on since I was sixteen,” he says, taking down a box of cereal. “We’re more like family, so it’s not your average mechanic job. I need him more than he needs me.”
“Why do you still do it?” I ask.
“What, work under a hood?”
I nod.
He pours milk over the cereal he just made and puts it back in the fridge. “I like working on cars,” he says and then takes a monstrous bite. With his mouth full, he goes on, “Kind of like a hobby, I guess. And besides, I like to keep the money flowing in the bank.”
I feel a little small, not having a job yet. He senses it, like he seems to sense just about everything. He swallows the food and points his spoon at me. “Don’t do that.”
I just look at him curiously, pretending not to know about how easily he caught on.
He sits on the barstool next to me, propping his shoes on the spindles below.
“You do realize you work, right?” he asks, looking at me in a sidelong manner. “Last week we raked in four hundred bucks the night we played at Levy’s. Four hundred in one night ain’t too shabby.”
“I know,” I say. “It just doesn’t feel like a job.”
He laughs lightly, shaking his head. “It doesn’t feel like a job because you happen to enjoy it. And because you’re not punching a clock.”
He has a point, but I wasn’t quite finished explaining. “If we were constantly on the road, didn’t have rent and utilities and a baby on the way, it would be different.” I take a sharp breath and just get to the point. “I want to get a hobby job. Like you.”
He nods. “Awesome,” he says and takes another bite, all the while sitting casually with his arms resting on the bar around his bowl. “What would you like to do?” He points at me. “Note the important keyword in that question: like.”
I think on it a moment, pursing my lips in contemplation.
“Well, I like to clean, so maybe I could get a job at a hotel,” I begin. “Or it might be nice to work at Starbucks or something.”
He shakes his head. “I doubt you’ll like cleaning rooms,” he says. “My mom used to do that before my dad started his business. People leave nasty shit in those rooms.”
I cringe. “Well, I’ll figure something out. As soon as we get to Raleigh, I’ll look for a job.”
Andrew’s spoon pauses just above his bowl. “So your decision is to move back home, then?”
Andrew
FIVE (#ulink_0df6059c-f442-5aab-a8d0-3cba960ecb24)
I didn’t mean to cause her face to go all stiff like that. I move my bowl out of the way and pull her toward me, sliding her across the bar top. I rest my arms across the tops of her bare legs and look at her with the most sincere smile.
“I’m really OK with it, babe.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Definitely.” I lean over and kiss the top of her left thigh and then the other. “We’ll go for the baby shower this weekend, come back here and start packing.”
She grabs my hands. “But after we move, we’ll definitely have to come back here in February for the shower your mom is planning.”
My smile widens. “Sounds like a plan,” I say, not surprised, though, that she’s taking my mom’s feelings into consideration, too. “So then it’s settled. Raleigh will be our new home. At least until we get tired of it.”
Camryn, happier now than she was when she first greeted me at the door, reaches out and grabs me around the neck. I stand up and lift her back into my arms, her cute butt propped in my hands.
“Sorry about the cereal,” she says.
“Huh?”
She lowers her eyes. “I bet when you dreamed about being married you pictured your wife cooking man-meals that’d make Gordon Ramsay’s toes curl.”
I throw my head back and laugh.
“No, I never really thought about stuff like that,” I say, our faces just inches apart. “Now the toe-curling stuff, trust me, you’ve got that down pat.”
She squeezes her thighs around my waist, her face getting redder. I kiss her on the nose and then look into her beautiful blue eyes. I close my eyes and feel the minty warmth of her breath close in on me. Her tongue gently touches my bottom lip, urging my mouth to part for hers. I give in so easily, touching the edge of her tongue to mine before I kiss her forcefully, squeezing her body in my arms. I carry her off to our bedroom, never breaking the kiss, and I have my way with her for the next hour before we head out to Houston to play.
We arrive at the airport in North Carolina midday Friday, and already I see the spark in Camryn’s eyes. It’s only her second time back here in four months. We get our bags and head outside in the sunshine to find Natalie and Blake waiting to pick us up. And just like the first time I met her, I brace myself to stand face-to-face with Camryn’s hyena of a best friend.
“I missed you so much, Cam!” Natalie engulfs her in a hug.
Blake—I might start calling him Blondie for the hell of it—stands tall behind Natalie with his hands buried deep in his pockets, his shoulders slumped over, and a big goofy smile on his tanned face. I can tell which one of those two is the master of their domain. That guy is whipped hardcore. I laugh it off inside. More power to him. Hell, I can’t say anything …
“Andrew!” Natalie moves toward me next, and I put up my invisible crazy shield as I return her unsolicited hug.
OK, the truth is I don’t like Natalie much. I don’t hate her, but she’s the kind of girl I wouldn’t think twice about talking to without Camryn being in the mix. And what she did to Camryn before Camryn got on that bus left a bad fucking taste in my mouth. I’m all for forgiveness, but just that Natalie could do something like that to begin with is cause for caution around her all of the time. It was hard for me to take it upon myself to call her up that day two weeks ago and tell her about Camryn’s ultrasound date and all that. But I was doing it for Camryn, and that’s all that matters to me.
“Good to see you again, Blake,” Camryn says, pulling him into a friendly hug.
I know everything about Blake, too, about how he was interested in Camryn first before later hooking up with Natalie. And regardless of his attraction to Camryn before we met, he’s all right in my book.
He and I shake hands.
“Oh my God, let me see!” Natalie says. She lifts up Camryn’s shirt, places both hands carefully over her stomach, and beams up at her. A tiny squeal-like sound reverberates through Natalie’s throat, and I find myself wondering how a human body can make such noises.
“I can be Aunt Natalie, or Godmother Natalie!”
Ummm, how about no?
Camryn’s smiling head nods rapidly, and I just make sure I’m not putting off any negative energy that she can detect. The last thing I want to do is ruin this homecoming for her by letting her know I tolerate her best friend only for her sake.
Camryn
SIX (#ulink_ac37f203-9868-52df-a262-43d3ff83d914)
North Carolina
The baby shower my mom and Natalie threw turned out great. I ended up with a brand-new baby bed, a walker, a swing, a high chair, two baby bathtubs—one pink and one blue, just in case—about 984 diapers—well, it seems like a lot of diapers—multiple bottles of baby shampoo and powder, and something called Anti Monkey Butt and Butt Paste, which is really disturbing, and … I can’t remember all of this stuff and some of it I have absolutely no idea what it is.
After a while of sitting in the room surrounded by everyone, I start to feel overwhelmed, but I’m ready to tone this get-together down and soak in a long, hot bath.
Two more hours drag by and everyone has left except for Natalie, who finds me soaking in that much-needed bath, surrounded by frothy bubbles.
“Cam?” I hear Natalie’s voice on the other side of the bathroom door. She knocks softly a few times.
“Come on in,” I say.
The door creeps open and Natalie peeks around the side. Wouldn’t be the first time she saw me naked.
She sits on the closed toilet lid.
“Well, it’s official,” she says, grinning down at me, “pregnancy does make the boobs bigger.”
As always, she’s exaggerating.
I raise my hand from the water and flick droplets at her.
“Are you feeling all right?” she asks, toning down the jokes. “You look exhausted.”
“I’m pregnant,” I say flatly.
“True, but Cam, you look like shit.”
“Thanks.” I reach back, readjust the clip I put in my hair to keep it from getting wet, then relax my arm along the side of the tub.
“Well, aren’t you supposed to be glowing? That’s what they say pregnant women do.”
I shrug and shake my head against the back of the tub.
A dull wave of pain moves through my lower back and passes as quickly as it came. I grimace and readjust my body.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” She looks more concerned than she needs to.
“Aches and pains. Nothing to worry about. It’s only going to get worse from here on out, I imagine. Aches and pains, that is.” I don’t know why I felt compelled to clear that last part up, except that I wanted to make sure she knew I didn’t mean it any other way.
“Still no morning sickness?” she asks. “I’d take a little back pain over puking my guts up, any day.”
“Nope,” I say. “But let’s not jinx it, Nat.”
I admit, if it were actually a choice, I’d choose pain over puke, too. And so far it looks like that’s what I’m getting. I guess I’ve been one of the lucky ones who the morning sickness passes right over. And I don’t have any weird cravings, either. So, either I’m a freak of nature, or all that talk about pickles and ice cream is just a load of crap.
I get out of the tub and wrap a towel around my body before hugging Natalie good-bye.
Then I lie across my bed, remembering how comfortable it was. But I don’t miss this room so much, or feel any sense of longing to get back into my old life. No. The “old life” I still want to avoid, and this is the number one reason I’ve been so divided about whether to come home or not. I’ve missed my mom and Natalie, and I admit that I’ve just missed North Carolina in general. But I don’t miss it in the way that makes me want to end right back up here doing the same things I was doing before. I ran away from that lifestyle for a reason, and I’m not about to run right back to it.
Instead of going out with Natalie and Blake later in the evening, I decide to stay here and go to bed early. I feel overly exhausted, as if my body is being drained of energy faster than normal, and the back pain hasn’t really subsided at all, either. It has been coming and going for the past few hours.
Andrew crawls into the bed with me and lies on his side, his head propped on his knuckles. “I feel like I’m doing something I shouldn’t, being up here in your childhood room with you like this.” He grins.
I smile slimly and bury my body deeper underneath the blanket. It’s only a little chilly outside, but I’m freezing. I pull the blanket up to my chin, curling my fingers tight around the fuzzy fabric.
“If my dad was here,” I say, chuckling, “you’d be in Cole’s room.”
He moves closer to me and drapes his arm over my waist. At first it seems like he’s about to take full advantage of the fact that we’re finally alone, but his expression hardens and he moves his arm from my waist and runs his fingers through the top of my hair.
“OK, you’re starting to worry me,” he says. “You’ve been acting strange since I got back here with Blake. What’s going on?”
I pull my body closer toward his and say, “You and Natalie both, I swear.” I gaze at him across the few inches of space between our faces.
“Oh, so then she noticed, too?” he asks.
I nod. “Just some back pain and generally feeling like shit, but you two fail to remember my predicament.”
He barely smiles back at me. “Maybe you should go to the doctor and get checked out.”
I shake my head gently. “I’m not going to be one of those paranoid people who run to the hospital for every little thing. I was at the doctor’s office just last week. Everything’s fine. Even she said so.” I lean toward him and kiss him softly on the lips and smile a little more, hoping to ease his mind.
