Page 60 of Love or Tequila in Unexpected Places

Back at her apartment, Allison took a long, hot shower. She really needed a relaxing bath, but she’d learned her lesson; no waves. The tension from the day had left her muscles cramping one after another, and the hot water helped her unwind.

Afterward, she fed herself and her growing baby again, purposefully ignoring what had happened in the restaurant’s parking lot—or the CarcidentsTM. She had just eaten lunch a few hours earlier, but she was creating a human from scratch, and she deserved to eat as much as she needed.

Her OB-GYN had given her strict guidelines on what was safe to eat and what to avoid, and she was determined to follow themlike a holy text. But her love for food meant she was constantly either hungry or peckish. So, she ate.

Allison didn’t feel guilty about gaining weight. She had spent too many years growing up being bullied by kids whose parents hadn’t taught them better. Too many hours crying over her chubby cheeks, thick thighs, and protruding stomach. Too many days searching for clothes she liked that actually fit her, back when the fashion industry didn’t cater to plus-sized people—though it wasn’t much better now.

She had spent too many years purging after every tiny bite. Too many sleepless nights convincing herself she was worthy of the life she had, pushing thoughts of the razors in the bathroom out of her mind. Reminding herself that no matter how dark things seemed, she had three brothers who would be devastated if she ever gave in to those urges.

She had suffered enough.

When she finally went to college, she experienced what it felt like to be truly loved—not by a boy, friend, or anyone else, but byherself.

She had come so far since those dark days. Now she was creating life, growing a tiny human, and she refused to feel guilty for gaining weight. She could lose it later if she wanted. But she would never get these nine months back, and she would be damned if she let the world’s toxicity affect her baby.

Her baby would be taughtright. That it’s okay to be yourself and love yourself, no matter how you look, sound, or dress. That everyone is perfect exactly as they are, and the only thing that makes someone ugly is their character. Her baby would be safe, healthy, and fuckinghappy.

Shit, am I crying?

She was. But she didn’t mind, because it meant she was growing.

Several hours later, just before midnight, Allison was cozied up in bed, sipping hot chocolate, and engrossed in her Kindle when her phone rang.

“Who the hell is interrupting my smut time?” she muttered.

She glanced at the screen, preparing to curse out whichever brother had decided to ruin her evening, but froze when she saw the familiar nickname she still hadn’t changed:Daddy.

Her Kindle nearly flew out of her hands—poor baby—and she sat up, the comforter slipping off her shoulders. Her heart raced, her breaths grew shallow, and her palms started sweating. She took a moment to compose herself before answering.

“Hello? Angelo?” she managed, her voice trembling slightly.

“Hi, Allison. Sorry to call so late. I had an emergency at work and just got free,” he said, sounding disturbingly casual.

“That’s fine. Is everything okay?” she asked, puzzled. Why would Angelo Taylor, her baby daddy and businessman extraordinaire, be available at this hour?

“Yes, of course,” he replied smoothly. Allison relaxed slightly. “I just wanted to see how you’re feeling after today.”

Allison’s mind immediately flashed to the events she’d been trying to ignore all day. She didn’t understand what had happened earlier or why. And now Angelo was asking how she felt about it?

As expected, internal panic set in.

How do I respond? Should I be nonchalant? Suave? Flirty?

Oh God, what if he misunderstands? Or what if I misunderstood?

After a few deep breaths and a wish that her brain would “just shut up,” Allison said, “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” Her voicesounded steadier now as she fidgeted with a loose thread on her comforter.

Angelo took a moment to respond, and during those seconds, Allison had another brief freak-out.

Did I come off too strong? Or not strong enough? What if I weirded him out or offended him?

“Well, a lot of things happened today.”

Her fingers paused. He didn’t sound angry or disgusted. Instead, his voice had taken on a tone she didn’t recognize—almost… sad. Cautious.

“Angelo,” she said, mimicking the tone he used to calm her down.

He sighed deeply, and the sound resonated with her. She could almost picture him, one hand raking through his chocolate locks, jaw set. As hot as the image was, she didn’t like it.

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