Abandon

Chapter Thirteen

After Senia blew me off last weekend in favor of studying, I didn’t expect her to come over tonight. She claims she still has a lot of studying to do, but Claire is out of the dorm for a Friday-night birthday dinner with Chris and Jackie. This is her opportunity to sneak out undetected.

I get why she doesn’t want Claire to find out about the pregnancy. I’m not a complete asshole. I don’t want Chris to find out either. But she won’t be able to hide it for long. We need to discuss this – and I need to get her alone – soon.

When I open my front door, I’m not surprised to see her in jeans. She thinks the extra clothing will deter me.

“Welcome to my not-so-humble abode.”

“This house is way too big for one person,” she says as she turns her back to me so I can take her coat.

I slip the coat off and hang it up in the coat closet as she glances around the foyer at the marble floors, the sweeping curved staircase, and the enormous industrial-era chandelier.

“You want something to drink,” I ask as I take a few steps toward the kitchen, hoping she’ll follow me instead of standing there with her mouth agape.

“The only thing that’s missing in here is a ten-foot-tall self-portrait.”

“That’s in the study.”

She turns to me and purses her lips. “Exactly how rich are you?”

“I’m not rich. I’m wealthy.”

She sighs as she follows me into the kitchen. I open the refrigerator and pull out a bottle of water. When I turn around to hand it to her, she’s too busy admiring the glossy white cabinets to notice. I press the cold bottle against the back of her neck and she gasps as she steps aside.

“You bastard!” she cries. I chuckle as I hold the bottle out to her and she waits a moment before she takes it. “You’re a child. How the hell are you able to live here by yourself without setting the house on fire?”

“Baby, this house has been set on fire multiple times.”

“Ugh. You are such a player,” she groans, holding her hands out as I approach her. “Don’t touch me.”

“That won’t last long.”

“Are we talking about your erection?”

I chuckle as her hands press against my chest. “Your humor only turns me on even more.”

She pushes me hard and quickly scoots sideways to get away from me. “We need to talk,” she says as she scurries around the kitchen island and takes a seat at the breakfast bar with her bottle of water. “I’m scared shitless.”

“I can help you with that.”

“With what?” she whispers breathlessly as I stand behind the barstool and brush her ponytail aside.

“All of it. If you want to talk, we’ll talk.” I kiss the back of her neck and the plastic water bottle in her handle crackles as she tightens her grip. “If you want to keep the baby, I’ll be there. Anything you need” – I spin the barstool around so she’s facing me – “I can give it to you.”

I lean in and she whimpers as I brush my lips softly over hers.

“Don’t do this.”

“Why?” I whisper, then I slide my tongue into her mouth so she doesn’t have a chance to respond.

She tastes like orange Tic Tacs. Grabbing her face, I kiss her slowly as she grips my forearms. I suck on her luscious bottom lip and she wraps one of her long legs around me.

She turns her face away and shakes her head. “Stop. We have to talk.”

I sigh and try not to look too disappointed as I take a step back. “Let’s talk.”

“You said you’d give me anything I need,” she says, and the tough, sarcastic exterior she usually wears so well is peeled back for a moment. “I need to talk about this.”

Her brown eyes search mine for a sign of understanding, but I’m just frustrated. “Do you mind if I have a beer while we talk?”

I’m not sure why I’m asking her permission other than I don’t want to hear a snide remark or see her roll her eyes when I grab the beer out of the fridge.

“This is your domain. Don’t let me stop you.”

“You kind of just did that,” I remark as I take a step back, but she grabs the front of my Vandals T-shirt.

Before I can even question what she’s doing, my shirt is off and my hands are under her sweater, roaming over her soft, warm flesh. Her breasts feel bigger than the last time we fucked, and this instantly gets me hard. I kiss her neck as I move my hands down to grab hold of her ass. Then I scoot her forward on the barstool, so she can feel me hard against her.

“I don’t want to fuck you here,” I murmur into her ear.

“Why?” she whimpers as she reaches for the button on my jeans.

“Because I have something so much better planned for you.”

I grab her hand and lead her toward the French doors that lead out onto the patio and outdoor dining area. Just beyond and to the right of the dining area is an Olympic-length saltwater pool and jacuzzi.

“If you think I’m getting in the jacuzzi with you when it’s fifty degrees out here, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Shh. We’re almost there,” I say as we pass the pool and the outdoor shower area. Finally, we reach a cedar-plank door in the rear corner of the house. I reach into my back pocket to pull out the door key and she shakes her head.

“You knew you’d get me back here.”

I smile as I turn the key in the lock and push the door open to the steam room. I left the lights on and put the steam going before she got here. I’ve had other girls in here. It’s nothing new to me. But I’ve yet to meet a girl who wasn’t pleasantly surprised by the overwhelmingly hot experience of sex in a steam room.

“I’m not having sex with you in a steam room. I’ve done it before and I nearly suffocated. I don’t want to know what will happen if I try to do it while pregnant.”

“Shit. I didn’t think about that. But, wait a minute, you’ve had sex in a steam room? When?”

“Uh … how is that any of your business?”

Closing the door to the steam room, I clench my jaw as I attempt to bite back my response. If a girl isn’t being needy and clingy, she’s playing hard-to-get. Why can’t they just chill out and enjoy the offer of commitment-free sex?

“Why do you look like I just crashed your car?” she asks as she follows me back to the patio. “I didn’t say we can’t have sex. I just said I we can’t have sex in the steam room. And, really, that’s just common sense.”

“Common sense?” I repeat this as I hold the patio door open for her to enter the great room.

“Yeah. I mean, why would I want to have sex in a steam room when I nearly passed out while throwing up this morning?”

“You what?” I bark this question at her and she appears startled.

“I was sick this morning before I got a chance to eat anything. I was dry-heaving so badly that I felt like I was going to pass out. It’s no big deal. I took a ten-minute nap in the dorm after Claire left for class.”

“No big deal? Don’t you think you should talk to your doctor about that? Have you even seen a doctor yet?”

“Fuck no! I’m still on my parents’ health insurance and they can’t know anything until we figure out what we’re gonna do.”

I try not to let her see the conflicting emotions and thoughts racing through my mind right now. I want to offer to pay for her doctor visit out of my own pocket, but I also want to hold off. This is a card I may want to hold onto so I can play it later when I lay down my whole hand.

I take a seat on the gray sofa in the living room and pat the seat for her to join me. “Can’t you go to the campus health center and get a free exam? Shouldn’t you be taking vitamins or something?”

She narrows her eyes at me as she sits. “Are you trying to tell me you want me to keep it?”

Her words make my breath hitch in my chest. The truth is I’m probably more prepared to take care of this baby than Senia. But being prepared doesn’t mean I’ll be any good at it. The last thing I need is to screw up my own kid the way I’ve obviously screwed up Molly. I had to pick her up from school early yesterday. She was suspended for cutting class two days in a row so she could smoke weed with her innocent friend Carissa at the park. It’s always the kids with the most clueless parents that seem to get into the most trouble. Maybe if I had been there for Molly this past year, none of this would be happening. I’m not ready to be a father.

But I don’t think I can pass up this opportunity. This is my chance to send Grandma off with a full heart. Who knows? She may even live long enough to meet her great-grandchild. I don’t think anything would make me happier than that.

“Yes. If you want to keep it, so do I.”