Drew + Fable Forever: A One Week Girlfriend Novella (9 page)

I roll my eyes. He’s crazy.

I so did. We were married on a beach at sunset. On Maui. How much better does it get? I don’t want another wedding ceremony. I don’t need it. I already have you. I just want you. I love you. I don’t need a fancy wedding to prove that. I don’t even understand why you think I would need it.

Tears are sliding down my cheeks and I don’t know why. I wipe them away, frustrated at my reaction. We’re going round and round in circles. This fight makes no sense.

I’m sorry.

That’s it. Just an apology. No explanation, nothing else said. I’m not exactly sure what he’s apologizing for. Everything?

So I send him a message he’ll have to react to. It’s a promise, a vow we made to each other. The bathroom door is unlocked. I never locked him out; I’m not that cold, and he’s respectful enough of my boundaries that he doesn’t barge in unless I ask him to.

Right now, I’m asking him to.

The word
marshmallow
flashes on my phone’s screen and that’s it. The cue I need to go into that bathroom and talk to Fable. Tell her I’m being a selfish jackass. Promise her whatever she wants.

I’m not afraid of losing her, not over something like this. But I don’t want her angry at me. I don’t want her thinking I’m against having children. I want them.

Now? I don’t know. There’s so much for us to do and see still. We’ve only just begun, Fable and I.

I push off the bed and stride toward the bathroom, throwing open the door to find her neck deep in water in the sunken bathtub. Her hair is piled on top of her head, strands floating around her face, some of them damp and clinging to her cheeks. Her skin is flushed, her lips turned down. She looks disappointed in me.

Fuck.
I hate that.

“You came.” She sounds surprised.

“Why wouldn’t I?” I leave the door open and go to her, stopping so I can stand over her. “You know I always will.”

She sighs and drops her head, staring down at the swirling water. It’s a whirlpool tub, large enough that I could probably fit in there with her, but I’m not going to push my luck.

Yet.

“I’m being selfish,” she finally says, her voice low.

“I’m the one who’s being selfish,” I say and she glances up at me, her quick movement causing the water to ripple, allowing me a quick glimpse of her pink nipples.

Just like that, my body reacts.

Focus, Callahan.

“All I’ve done in this relationship is take. It’s your turn to have something, Fable.” I inhale deeply, hoping I say the right thing and don’t piss her off further. “I want to have children with you but I want to wait a while, you know? Can we compromise? Maybe start trying after a
year? When I have another season under my belt?”

She’s quiet for a moment and all I can hear is the low thrum of the tub jets, the swirling of the water. It’s hot as fuck in the bathroom, steam covering the mirrors, sweat starting to form on my forehead, and finally, finally she tilts her head back so she can look at me.

“Can we practice a lot until we start the baby-making for real?”

Relief floods me and I smile at her. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Maybe I should join you in that tub and we can get a head start on our practice. It makes us perfect, you know.”

She sits up straight, revealing her breasts. Her nipples are hard and little water droplets cling to her smooth skin, shining like tiny diamonds scattered all over her flesh. “I’m already like a wrinkled old lady from the water, Drew. Wait, what are you doing?”

She’s practically screeching at me but I ignore her, too intent on stripping off my clothes as fast as possible. I climb into the tub despite her protests and she moves her legs out of the way, making room for me.

“I’m out of here,” she starts, but I grab her waist, earning a shriek out of her as I pull her into my lap. I’m already turned on, my cock pressing against her ass, and she keeps wiggling. Which only arouses me further.

Fable turns to look at me and I move my face closer to hers. “Drew,” she starts, but I shush her with my lips, kissing her senseless, our tongues wild, my hands skimming over her hips, along her waist, until I’m cupping her breasts. I play with her nipples, moan against her mouth as she continues to torture me by rubbing her ass against my front, and I reach down, gripping her hip so I can adjust her just so.

Before I push inside her body, going balls deep. She lets out a startled gasp, her inner walls clenching around me, holding me tight, and I keep still, my entire body straining as I revel in the sensation of being inside my wife.

“Christ, you feel good,” I murmur as she slowly starts to move. I rest my forehead on her shoulder, one hand on her hip, the other on her breast. She leans forward the slightest bit, changing the angle, helping me move even deeper inside her body, and I lift my hips, earning a ragged moan for my efforts.

The water splashes as we establish our rhythm, the tub so full of water it spills over the edge and onto the floor. But I don’t care and neither does Fable. We keep moving, keeping pace, our bodies slick and hot. She likes it from behind, says she loves how deep I go inside her body
when we’re like this, and I like it, too. I pretty much like every position we try.

When it comes to Fable, I’m easy like that.

“Hold on,” she chokes out, then moves forward even more so I have no choice but to slip out of her body. She’s on her knees, her ass in the air, her hands gripping the edge of the tub, and I follow her, thrust deep inside her body as I position myself over her, my chest to her back, my mouth at her ear as I pant dirty words that I know will have her coming in minutes.

Her moans get louder and she throws her head back, inviting me to kiss her. I blaze a hot path across her neck, along her jaw, her cheek, just before I take her lips. The kiss is awkward but hot, our tongues tangling, our breaths mingling. And then her entire body stiffens beneath mine, a choppy little stutter falling from her lips against mine as her orgasm washes over her.

That’s all the incentive I need to increase my pace, thrusting deep and hard, my own orgasm barreling down on me. I feel it in every part of my body, from the tips of my fingers and toes to the top of my head. Every nerve ending is standing on edge, electric. I push inside her once, feel her body flutter and spasm all around my cock, and then I’m coming, so hard I close my eyes and press against her back, my groan muffled against her shoulder as I drain myself inside her body.

“Jesus,” I finally mutter seconds, maybe minutes later, our bodies still locked together, the water still sloshing around us. “I thought I was going to pass out for a minute.”

“It’s—it’s the heat in the room,” she says, sounding breathless. “I feel light-headed, too.”

I finally move, start to pull out of her, but she reaches around me, keeping me close. “I’m sorry, Drew.”

I’m surprised by her apology. “For what?”

“Overreacting. Springing the idea of a baby on you so quickly and expecting you to just go along with it. It was unfair of me.” She kisses my lips, my chin, then my jaw, her lips soft and warm and full of comfort.

“I overreacted, too,” I say as I slowly pull out of her and then grab her by the waist, tugging her into my lap again. The cooling water sloshes and splashes; the bathroom is a fucking mess, but I could really give a shit. “I’m sorry, baby. From now on, let’s try not to get all caught up in someone else’s life, you know? Sometimes it’s okay to plan, not just trying to randomly procreate and make a baby.”

Her eyes narrow and I worry for a second that I offended her. “You have such a way with
words sometimes, Drew Callahan,” she drawls, then scrambles out of my lap so she can stand in the middle of the tub, her gaze locked on the floor. “Holy shit, I think half the bathwater is on the floor.”

We both laugh and help each other out of the tub, then throw down as many towels as we can find on the floor to sop up all the water. She pulls on a white terry-cloth robe provided by the hotel that overwhelms her completely, the collar puffed up around her neck, the hem of the robe dragging on the still damp floor. I dry off and follow her out into the room, where she sheds the robe and crawls into bed. I follow her, pulling her close and holding her to me.

“Well, I know we don’t do it very often, but there is one really good thing about arguing with each other,” she says after a few quiet moments when I’m about to drift off to sleep. Hell, I know it’s not even six o’clock, but a nap sounds damn good right about now.

“What is it?” I ask, my voice a low murmur, my eyes tightly closed.

“Hot make-up sex.” She skims her fingers down my chest, a little laugh escaping her. “That was kind of amazing, Drew.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” I smile. “Let’s sleep on it and then I’ll be ready for round two.”

“Round two? How are you going to top that?”

“Watch me.”

“Are you okay?” Jen slides into the booth across from me, her dark eyes full of concern as she studies me. I haven’t seen Jen in the long time since I’ve been gone and with everything that’s happened lately, I needed to come home.

So I did. I asked Owen to stay with me for a while even though he has his own place, and we’ve been hanging out. It’s been nice. It feels good, being here.

But I’m also running away from my problems, avoiding them. Avoiding my husband. I need to tell him what’s going on …

Later.

Sniffing loudly, I shake my head, parting my lips to dump the entire story on Jen when the waitress approaches, asking if we want coffee. I asked my closest friend to meet me at a breakfast place none of us ever frequent, clear on the other side of town. I want no one to hear
anything we have to say. This secret I’m about to reveal is huge.

And Drew is going to probably kill me when he finds out.

“I’d like some, thanks,” Jen tells the waitress before she chances a glance at me. “Do you?”

Ugh.
Just the thought of coffee makes my stomach recoil. And I lived on the stuff up until a few weeks ago. “No, thank you. Maybe some juice, though. I don’t know, orange juice?”

The waitress looks at me, her pen poised on her order pad. “You want it, then? Orange juice?”

Do I? I feel like I can’t make a decision to save my life at the moment. “Yes,” I say firmly with a nod. “Orange juice. And a glass of water, too.”

“Anything else? Something to eat? We have a pumpkin spice French toast special,” she suggests. “It’s delicious.”

My stomach revolts. God, that sounds disgusting. “No thanks,” I say between my teeth, handing her the menus she left at the table when I first got there, just about five minutes before Jen arrived. “I’m good.”

“Me, too,” Jen says. “I already ate.”

The waitress leaves us alone and Jen glances around, then leans across the table, her voice low. “What’s wrong with you? Tell me. I’m in a panic here. When I got your voice mail, you sounded so freaked out you scared me.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s not that big of a deal. Well, it sort of is.” Swallowing hard, I try to come up with the best way to say this. But it’s only Jen. She’s not going to judge. She might think I’m an idiot but she definitely won’t judge. May as well state it plainly. “I’m pregnant.”

A pause as the words sink in and I watch her reaction. It’s rather fascinating, really. Her eyes light up, her lips part, and color blooms in her cheeks. Her excitement is a palpable thing as she looks ready to squeal, then slaps her hand over her mouth at the last moment so all I see are wide, shock-filled brown eyes. “Really?” she asks, her voice muffled against her fingers.

I slowly nod. “Really.”

The waitress arrives at that precise moment, flipping over the coffee cup that sits upside down on the saucer in front of Jen before pouring the steaming brown liquid into the white mug. The bitter scent reaches my nostrils, making me wrinkle my nose, and I rest a hand over my
stomach, hoping like crazy I don’t puke right here in the middle of this tiny coffee shop.

This is how I knew I was pregnant in the first place. Every little scent, every smell, especially either perfume or food, and I want to hurl. It’s a horrible feeling. My stomach is constantly nauseous and I’m so tired all the time. All I want to do is nap.

“How?” Jen breathes out the question as soon as the waitress leaves. She tears into three creamers and dumps them all into the coffee, then tears open a bunch of sugars and dumps those in, too. I watch her with a grimace on my face I can feel.
Ugh
, that’s gross.

Then her question sinks in and I want to laugh. “How do you think?” I wish the waitress would bring my orange juice, my water, or both. I’m dying of thirst.

“Well, I know
how
.” Jen rolls her eyes. “But I thought you were on the pill.”

“I am. That’s the thing. I don’t know what happened.” That’s the part that scares me the most. He’s going to think I somehow tricked him into this. I talk about getting pregnant, we fight, we make up, we have amazing, hot, toe-curling sex for the rest of the night, and then five weeks later, I figure out I’m pregnant. It had to be that night.

I’m afraid he’s going to believe I set this up. I don’t want him mad at me.

The waitress reappears yet again with my drinks and she sets them on the table, smiling down at me. “Are you sure you don’t want anything else?”

“I’m fine,” I say and Jen says the same, so the waitress leaves.

“How far along are you?” Jen asks the second we’re alone again.

“Five or six weeks. I took a pregnancy test last week.”

“And you haven’t told Drew yet? You’ve been holding this in for an entire week?” Jen shakes her head and sips from her cup. “I would’ve burst by now.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve known for at least two weeks; I was just too damn scared to take the test and have it confirmed.” Sighing, I glance at the glass of orange juice and realize I don’t want it after all. Water is safer. “Wouldn’t Colin freak out if you got pregnant right now?”

“Well, yeah.” Jen shrugs. “But we aren’t married yet. We’re in no hurry. We’re definitely in no hurry to have kids yet, either.”