Not About Love (This Love Book 2) (21 page)

IT HAD BEEN A FEW
weeks since I had heard from Red…well, actually I hadn’t spoken to her since my failed attempt to get pictures of her, so I was surprised to see she had called and left a voicemail.

I wondered what she had to say. I smiled and bit my lip. Maybe she was up for some sexting after all. That woman was a feisty thing, and I had to admit I missed her.

I had systematically jerked off thinking about her the last few days, which was the weirdest shit. I wasn’t exclusive with anyone in real life, and I definitely wasn’t exclusive when it came to masturbation.

That was usually true, but lately my real-life action sucked ass. I hadn’t slept with a woman in weeks. I had no idea how long had it been since something like that had happened to me. Years. A decade, maybe.

Actually, I had gotten…close to getting some one night recently.

I had met a cute brunette a week after I came back from Amsterdam and we went to her place. Everything was great until… I didn’t know what got into me.

It was fucking embarrassing.

It didn’t…
work
. That had never happened to me before.

I told the girl I’d had too much to drink, which was partly true, but that had never stopped me before. I told myself a few lies to nurse my shattered ego.

I told myself she was too young, even though I had been with twenty-somethings until a few months ago. I told myself her shaved little cunt turned me off.

Fuck, I knew all too well men loved that shit, but personally it creeped me out a little bit. I loved a nicely trimmed pussy, but there was something deeply wrong about a completely shaved one.

After the disastrous experience with the brunette, I decided I’d give myself some time to recover. Thankfully, the girl didn’t know who I was. The last thing I needed was for some chick to spread vicious rumors about me and bury the legendary, mythical sexual prowess I was famous for.

I decided to lay low and masturbate for the time being until I found a girl who got me really hard…so I fantasized about Red. I had all kinds of fantasies and setups to choose from. We had seriously fucked like bunnies the whole time I was in Amsterdam, and we’d done
all kinds
of shit…kinky stuff, too. Fuck, I missed her ass and her gorgeous tits. I missed that smart mouth of hers and the way it wrapped around my cock.

Twitch.

That’s all I had to think about for my dick to wake up and get a semi-hard on.

Masturbating to Red was easy. Like I said, I had all kind of scenarios to pick from. Maybe she was doing the same, using that vibrator of hers.

She would definitely be up for sexting. The hard part was going to be figuring out what time would work for the both of us. I would definitely choose mornings.

Giving my dick a stroke first thing in the morning always put me in a good mood…and it would be afternoon to early evening on her side of the world, which could totally help her take the edge off after dealing with a bunch of idiot clients.

I was sweaty from lifting weights and needed a shower. If I’d had a private bathroom, I could give my neglected dick some much needed attention, but I had chosen not to have one. I loved showing my body to other men. I was a walking advertisement for the gym. I simply had to show everyone how cut I was; that was the biggest motivator to work out harder and get fit.

It was still early in the morning and the place was half empty. No one was in the bathroom yet. As I showered, an image of Ally’s naked body flickered in my mind.

Fuck.

My dick got hard again.

I changed the water temperature to cold.

I got dressed and went to my office to listen to her voicemail. I closed the door and sat in my chair.

I pressed play on the message, and I listened to her voice. She sounded hesitant, maybe even worried.

“Boyd…it’s me, Ally. I…I have some news…”

I stared at my phone for minutes before I could move. I was petrified.

I was in shock.

What the fuck? Was she fucking joking?
Pregnant?
My heart started beating in a crazy, erratic rhythm. My throat instantly went dry, and I felt my stomach churn.

Pregnant. Ally was fucking pregnant.

With a child.
My
child.

How the fuck did this happen?

My heart started hammering in my chest, and I broke into a cold sweat.

My mind was clouded with visions of the past: the face of the person who broke my heart…a naïve young man…an all too familiar situation.

I couldn’t breathe.

I felt sick. I was going to be sick.

I ran to the bathroom and puked my guts out.

* * *

I didn’t call her back right away.

I couldn’t. I was still in shock. I wanted to call my brother, but he was on the road and he had a show that night. There was no need to alarm him—although, knowing Lou, he wouldn’t be alarmed in the slightest. I was pretty sure he’d be the one reassuring me and giving me some good advice.

Ally had said she was going to take care of it…, but what did she mean by that? Was she going to nip it in the bud?
Fuck
. My mother would be none too happy if she knew.

If that were the case, she didn’t need to know at all. If word got to my mother, she’d tell me I was an irresponsible jerk first, and second, she would try to convince me the child had the right to live. Third…she’d probably say we were both adults and should be able to make it work.

But, what if it wasn’t what Ally wanted? What if she really didn’t want to keep it?

And what about me? How did I feel about any of this?

My whole life was here in New York! What was I supposed to do? Move to fucking Amsterdam for my baby mama?

You like that woman
, a voice inside me said. Yeah, I liked her, but not enough to change my whole fucking life.

A baby
.

A baby she was maybe going to get rid of. I didn’t like the idea of it, but I also didn’t like the idea of having a baby…of being a father. I wasn’t ready. I didn’t think I would ever be. Sure, once upon a time, I wanted to be a father. For a short time in my life, I had thought I was going to be a father.

Back when I still had simple dreams that involved marriage.

Back when I still believed in shit like true love and ’til death do us part.

My stomach had settled, but my throat felt parched.

Water wasn’t going to cut it. I needed something stronger.

I needed to get out of there.

I needed a drink.

I couldn’t go to the usual place. It was almost lunch hour and Fruits of the Hearth, the organic bar and diner I went to almost every day, would be crowded with familiar faces. I walked a few blocks over to O’Leary’s, the Irish pub I went to when I wanted to be on my own.

“Hey, Roger.”

“Boyd. Nice to see you, son. It’s been a while.”

“Can I have a whiskey? Neat, please.”

“Isn’t it a bit early to start on the strong stuff, son?” He checked his watch. “What’s the matter?”

“I got some…bad news. I need something strong.”

“Shit. I’m sorry, man. What kind of bad news?”

“I just found out I got a woman pregnant.”

“Ahh, shit.”

“Yep, shit is right.”

“Well, what are you going to do? What does she want to do? Is she going to keep it? Are you two together?”

“I don’t know. We aren’t…together.”

“So, what is she? Your side piece? Are you seeing anyone else?”

“No, I’m not seeing anyone. I don’t date, Roger. And this girl…this
woman
, she’s…a friend. We’re nothing.” I didn’t like where this conversation was going. I didn’t talk women with Roger or anyone else.

“Well, you might have been
nothing
up until now, but you two made something together. I know you might still be recovering from the shock, but this might not be a bad thing after all.”

“How so?” I frowned.

“You two might work it out. You never know…things happen for a reason.”

“Yeah?” I tried to go along with him, but I hated that fucking saying. No, I didn’t believe things happened for a reason.

“When was last time you had a girl?”

“Jesus Christ, Roger…are you playing the role of priest today? I feel like I’m confessing my sins!”

“Just answer me, son. I can’t recall if I’ve ever seen you with the same girl twice, that’s why I asked.”

“You’re right. You haven’t.”

“Why is that? Why have I never seen you with a steady girl the whole time I’ve known you? You’re a good-looking guy, successful…so why haven’t you had a girlfriend in…a while? All I’m saying is…maybe you and this girl could give it a try?”

I downed the rest of my whiskey and it burned in my throat.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Why not? What you got to lose? Even if it doesn’t work out, at least you can say you gave it a try.” He shrugged, and I rolled my eyes.

“I don’t want to give it a try. I’m not a relationship person.” I slammed the glass on the bar. “Pour me another one.”

He scowled at me and then started laughing. He clearly disagreed with what I said. I glared back. I wasn’t in the mood for this shit.

“You’re
not a relationship person
—that’s the biggest load of crap. I hear that all the fucking time from people of your generation,” he said, pointing a finger at me. “Well, you know what? That’s a bunch of fucking bullshit, my friend.”

“It’s not bullshit. I’ve done it once. I put all my trust in one person and she fucking ripped my heart out.”

He exhaled a slow breath. “Son, you had a bitch rip your heart out. I’m sorry to hear that, but guess what? It happens to
a lot
of fucking people, and you know what? They get over it, and eventually, if they’re lucky, they might find someone who’s not a heartless bitch. You want to know something else?”

“No,” I growled.

He threw a towel over his shoulder and stretched out his arms on the bar.

Fuck
. He was giving me “the talk”.

“Unless you’re going to live your life like a fucking hermit, you need someone. You know why there are all those fucking love songs about needing somebody? Because it’s the fucking truth. No one can live their life alone. You know why? Because it’s a miserable life. I’m not saying you have to find someone or your life won’t be complete…but if you do have the chance to be with someone and you push them away because you’re
afraid?
”

I raised my eyes from my glass and glared at him, but he wasn’t backing down. I could tell he wasn’t done, and wouldn’t stop until I’d let him finish.

“Yeah, son. Roll your eyes all you want. I think you’re afraid. This bitch you were talking about ruined you and you’ve decided you’re done for life…well, you’re going to miss out. You’ll never find love, never experience what it means to share your life with someone. I loved my wife. Did we fight almost every goddamned day? You bet we did, but there’s not a day I don’t miss her. Now, I want to be open-minded. Maybe this woman you got pregnant is not the one for you, but now you have the chance to become a father…are you going to miss out on that, too, Jackson?” He used my first name the same way my mother did when she was scolding me for something. I didn’t even know how he remembered it; I certainly didn’t go there
that
often.

He took the towel from his shoulder and started wiping the surface of the bar. He glanced at me and pressed his lips in a hard line. For the first time, he seemed to be a little hesitant, but a moment later, he said, “All I’m saying is…just think about it. A child is not the end of the world, and who knows? Things
might
work out…or, you’ll have a kid. I see you’re getting angry at me, so I’ll stop talking and leave you alone, okay? Just…think about it.”

I had gone there to clear my head, but after Roger’s pep talk, I had a million different thoughts screaming inside me.

What was I supposed to do?

What was the right thing to do?

I thought about Ally. She didn’t deserve to have to face it all alone.

I had to talk to her.

* * *

“What do you want to do?” I asked her over the phone.

“Look, at first I thought about… getting an abortion. I have never been against it
per se
, and I thought maybe one day, if it happened to me and it wasn’t the right time, I would get one…”

“But?”

“But it doesn’t feel right. I’m a grown-ass woman, I have a good job…I have no real reasons to get rid of it…except the fact that I wasn’t
planning
on having a kid. I’m sorry to put you in this position, Boyd, but I’m going to keep it.”

“What? No, Ally…I’m the one who feels responsible for putting you in this situation. I’m an idiot. I have no idea what happened…I thought we were always careful…”

“Me, too,” she said in a slightly more upbeat tone.

“Do you think it happened the last night I was there? We got pretty drunk…”

She laughed, and something in my chest ached.
My heart
. I missed her.

“Maybe, or maybe that one night about a week before you left…we were pretty drunk that night, too…” She sighed. I knew exactly what she was talking about. We had dinner at her place, and then the glasses of wine started piling up. We talked, listened to music, and had sex most of the night. We couldn’t stop. She was teasing me about my appetite and said something about it being a full moon that night. I opened the curtains to check if she was right and the moonlight shone in her bedroom.