Page 57 of Misconception (Unrequited 2)

He clutched his chest and staggered around. “Shot to the heart. I’m dying here.” He dramatically fell to his knees and raised his hands to the sky. “I’m too young to die. Too young.”

I sniffed. “You’re not that young.”

His body jerked like he’d been shot, and he fell sideways, tongue poking out. “I’m dead.”

I stood over him, putting my booted foot on his hip. “Victory is mine!”

“Michaela?”

I jerked around at the sound of my name. When I saw Moses Aronson standing there, a perplexed frown on his gorgeous face, my heart did that low swoop it seemed to do around him.

“Moses?”

Devon popped up. “Hey, man. You here for the show?” He held his hand out for Mo to shake. Of course it would not occur to him that Mo would be here for anything but his concert, even though he’d just said my name.

“Good to see you. I actually flew out to see Michaela.” Mo’s eyes were on mine as he talked to Devon.

Devon was an asshole, but he wasn’t dumb. I could almost hear the gears turning in his head. He looked from Mo to me, and back.

“Ah, so you’re the one.” Devon nodded like it all made sense to him. “Interesting.”

“Go away, Devon,” I said.

He held his hands up. “All I said was interesting. But I had thought you were finished with musicians, so…” He wandered off again, whistling, his hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans.

Mo came closer to me. “Hey,” he said softly.

“Hi. What are you doing here?”

“Missed you. Wanted to see the bump in person. I’m only here for the night.” He tugged on the hem of my loose T-shirt. “Is that okay?”

“I have to work.” Oh god, it was so okay. “I’m glad to see you, though. I was beginning to think you only existed in my text messages.”

We’d been texting quite a bit over the last two weeks. Some days, we just checked in on each other, which I had to admit was nice. Other days, we bantered, and yeah, flirted a little. And some days, we talked about things that were real and true.

“Can I hug you, or will that ruin your street cred?”

He joked, but I glanced around to see if anyone was watching. There was no one around, so I stepped into Mo and circled my arms around his waist. He hesitated a beat, then curled himself around me just like he always did.

“Hey, Moses. What’s shakin’?” I said against his chest.

He laughed. “Right now, I am. I’m like a fucking puppy, really excited to see you.”

He pulled back and pressed his hands on either side of my belly, his eyes meeting mine. “Damn, Michaela. Nice job.”

Laughing, I covered his hands with mine. “This baby is a genius. I don’t even have to do anything and it grows.”

He kneeled down in front of me, still cupping my bump. “Hey, in there. I’m really proud of you for getting your growth spurt on. Must be all those gingersnaps your mom feeds you. Keep up the good work, kiddo.”

I started to laugh and yank at his hair to get him off the floor, but there was a squirming feeling low in my abdomen. Sucking in a breath, I pressed my hand to the spot.

Mo looked up at me. “You okay?”

“Yes. Say something else to the baby.”

“Okay...hi, baby. Guess what? I’ve finally started writing new music. I think about you, and I get inspired. It’s probably gonna be super sappy and mushy, but I don’t care.”

The baby was moving. Squirming to get closer to the sound of Mo’s voice, or so it seemed. It was the strangest feeling. Pops and bubbles distinct enough for me to know this was my baby saying hello.

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