Page 50 of If It Can't Be Us

I let out an exhale. “It’s not something I give much thought to, honestly. I wouldn’t want a broken family, and my lifestyle doesn’t really permit that, so I don’t see how I would have kids.” I say in between breaths. “I like kids well enough, and honestly, I haven’t been around many babies, so I can’t speak to that. But I’m excited for my brother and Nichole. If this little baby can bring them so much joy, then I know it will for me as well because I love my brother, and the things that make him happy make me happy too.”

She laughs. “I don’t know what to say right now. I’ve never seen this side of you.”

“Well, I’m a complex man, Walker.”

“Apparently.” We run in silence for a few more minutes and slow to a walk as we reach our last half-mile.

“You do know how babies are made, right?” she jokes. “Because you are having a lot of sex with people that you really don’t know well. What if you had a whoopsie? It’s not like that couldn’t happen.”

I chuckle under my breath and stare up at the sky. “Oh my God. Are we really having this conversation? You worried about my safety habits with my sex life?” I give her a mischievous grin. “Trust me, I’m careful. I’m not looking to add ‘dad’ to my list of titles anytime soon.”

“That’s great. But my question is, what IF you got someone pregnant? What would you do?”

I let out a deep breath, contemplating the seriousness of her question. “I would do the right thing, whatever that meant in the moment.” I slow my walking pace slightly, glancing at the ground as I gather my thoughts. “I would support her in whatever way she needed. If she didn’t want the baby, I’d respect her decision. If she wanted to keep the baby, I’d be there for both her and the child.” I look up, meeting her eyes. “I’d struggle with not being involved in a child’s life if I knew it was mine.” I pause, searching her face to gauge her reaction.

“Okay, so let’s just say, hypothetically, someone gets pregnant, the baby is yours, she wants to keep it, and she wants you to be in its life. Do you try to be a family? Live together and do the whole works?”

“God, you’re so cheeky.” I shake my head with a smirk. “No, I’m not going to force myself to try to fall in love with someone I didn’t have those feelings for in the first place. That doesn’t seem like a healthy way to go about life or build a family. I would focus on building a friendship with her and hope she’s more than just a pretty face. We would raise the child amicably, co-parenting as best as we could.”

“And you know she’s pretty because?” she teases, giving me a hard time as usual. It’s our thing—constantly giving each other shit.

“Because I don’t bring home anyone who isn’t attractive,” I reply with a smirk.

“Oh my God,” she says, rolling her eyes.

As we near my townhouse, she suddenly stops and looks at me with a soft smile and genuine admiration in her eyes.

“What’s that look for?”

“You’re a good guy, Leo. A genuinely good guy.” She grins. “I don’t understand the philosophy that guides your life, or your sexual shenanigans. Well, no, I do understand them; I just don’t get why you reject the idea of anything more ever coming from them. But regardless, you are a great person. I’m lucky to know you.”

I chuckle softly. “Oh, c’mon now, I’m tearing up… Come inside, let’s have coffee.”

“Ugh, I’m all gross and sweaty. I need to shower.”

“You can wait to shower. I’m sweaty too. I’ve seen you at your worst, you know. Just come have coffee.”

She sighs, “Fine.”

We walk into my townhouse, the warm air intensifying the sweat on my skin. I remove my jacket and beanie, running my fingers through my damp hair. Vivian is already at the fridge, grabbing the milk. I watch her as she moves to the espresso machine, expertly pulling out the two portafilters.

“Do you want a latte or a cappuccino?” she asks as she tamps the espresso.

“Cappuccino,” I answer, admiring her ass as she works my espresso machine. I love watching her move comfortably around my kitchen, it’s incredibly sexy. I sit at the counter and check flights for London on my phone, while she steams the milk.

I find a flight for December seventh that arrives the next day at 11 AM, and a return flight a week later. I’m selecting my first-class seats when Vivian slides my cappuccino toward me and unzips her jacket, revealing her incredibly toned body and great tits. She’s wearing a matching green set that makes her eyes pop. Her top barely grazes the waistband of her leggings, teasing a bit of skin, and her tank pushes her tits up, placing her incredible rack right at eye level as she leans into the counter and sips her cappuccino.

She catches me staring and smirks. “You know, if you’re going to stare, you could at least try to be a little less obvious.”

I shake my head with a grin. “Well, Jesus, you take your jacket off and stand right in front of me. Where am I supposed to look?”

“I’m sorry. It’s fucking hot, and I’ve gotta let the girls breathe.” She grabs her cappuccino and walks around the counter to sit next to me. “What are you doing on your phone?”

“Booking a flight to London, which reminds me, I need your flight info so I can upgrade you to first class when I book my ticket to Paris.”

“Who says I’m not already in first class?” she teases, placing her elbow on the counter and resting her chin in her hand as she looks at me.

“Are you?” I say, amused, meeting her gaze.

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