Page 27 of Keep Me Close

“I don't know the best way to do this, but I know the only thing we can do is be honest. Obviously, we have chemistry.”

A wry laugh rustled in my throat. “That's one way to put it,” I repeated.

“But we're having a baby together. What if things get weird?” She paused. “I know I'm the one who insisted on no last names, no phone numbers, and just one night, but I don't want to have a casual relationship and have a baby together. That's confusing. I'm not saying you have to marry me and declare your undying forever love.”

“I don't want a casual relationship either.”

“How do you know?”

I shrugged. “I don't. I just know we had that one night, and I couldn't forget you. Even if it's startling that you're pregnant and we're doing this together, I wanted to see you again. And it wasn't just because I wanted only another night.” Her lips quirked at the corners. “I liked you that night, and now I like you more.”

She held up a hand. “We had one night together.” Her thumb rose. “And then I came to tell you I was pregnant.” She lifted her index finger. “Now we've had dinner together.” She was holding three fingers up. “How do you know you want it to be something more? That doesn't seem like much of a foundation.”

“I know, I know. I'm not crazy. I'm not going to try to pretend I know this will be easy. But I like you, and my gut tells me we should see where this goes. It's not going to be any easier to figure it out later. You’re having a baby. If it seems like it's not going to work out, maybe it's better if we figure that out before the baby comes along, and we can find our way into a friendly co-parenting situation,” I explained, those last words feeling funny in my mouth.

Hallie giggled. “Co-parenting is such a weird word.”

“I suppose. There are married people who thought they were going to make it last forever when they had kids, and then they have nasty divorces. I can promise you this: I'm not an asshole. If we try a relationship and it doesn’t work out, I'm a reasonable guy. I promise you. You can ask anybody who knows me. I'm not some jerk, and I trust that you're not either.”

“You do?” She sounded doubtful.

“Yeah. I mean, hell, you're friends with your ex. That's always a good sign.”

“Have you ever had a serious relationship?” she asked.

“Not since high school. I had a girlfriend then. We were ‘going together,’” I said, complete with air quotes.

Hallie's lips teased with another smile. She waited for me to elaborate.

“We broke up because she moved out of town. High school is what it is. I sure thought it was going to last forever at the time, though,” I offered. “Since then, I guess I just haven't settled into anything. In college, I dated here and there and had a lot of fun, but since college, I work a lot. My job doesn't lend itself to meeting someone easily. What about you?”

She shook her head quickly. “No, I also had a high school boyfriend. We both went to college in different places and grew apart. Then I had a boyfriend in college.” Something dark flickered in her eyes, but it disappeared quickly. “Honestly, my friend who's having the baby with his husband, we barely dated. It's just we were close friends, so we tried to date, and it didn't work out. Probably because he’s into guys, and he felt like my brother.” She rolled her eyes at that.

“I'm glad it didn’t ruin your friendship.”

“Absolutely. He's still one of my best friends, and I'm so happy for him. I'm over my weirdness about them having a baby via a surrogate. It was just hard to learn that right around the time I was told I probably needed to get a hysterectomy.” Her gaze sobered.

“That slim chance came through for you,” I offered.

She nodded. “I feel lucky in a way, but it's going to throw your life into a tailspin.”

“It's already happened. We're in the spin, and we’ll ride it out together one way or another.” She was still nestled against me, and she felt so good in my arms.

“You're a decent guy.” She peered up at me, nodding firmly. “A good egg. That's what my mom would call you.”

I chuckled. “Should we take a rain check for tonight?” I asked.

Her eyes held mine, and I tried to ignore the racket of my heartbeat in my chest and the need pulsing through me. I couldn't ignore how good she felt.

She took a shuddery breath, shaking her head.

“What does that mean?”

“It means I don’t want to take a raincheck.”

“Since we're being honest and direct, I need you to elaborate.” I needed her to outline what she wanted. I didn’t want to make any assumptions.

Pink crested high on her cheeks. “That night with you was amazing. It almost seems silly to try to put boundaries around it now. I mean, we've already been there and done that. You’re right that there's no great time to figure this thing with us out. My gut tells me we’ll be okay.”

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