Everything Unexpected (25 page)

That gets her attention, her head whipping in my direction, eyes boring into me.

“Us?” It sounds like she’s asking a question, but her expression tells me it’s not. “There is no
us
pushing Shane. There will only be me.
Me
doing the pushing.
Me
doing the birthing.
I’ll
be doing it all.”

I keep my mouth shut the rest of the way home.

LEAH BROUGHT OVER all she needed to get ready for the evening before we left for our appointment. We assumed we’d have news to tell and we wanted to share it together. But the minute we walk into the apartment, she heads to the bedroom and closes the door—a clear indication for me not to follow her.

I drop my keys on the kitchen counter and grab a beer from the fridge. Bryan comes out from his bedroom after hearing my bedroom door slam. He moves past me, grabbing a beer for himself.

“Starting early?” he asks, raising his bottle.

“Long day,” I mumble.

He takes a sip from his bottle before raising his brows, suddenly remembering where I’ve been. “Shit,” he says facing me. “So,” he says with a smile, “boy or girl?”

“Neither,”

His brows pull together.

“We didn’t find out,” I explain. “It’s a long story.”

“What’s the short version?”

I look down the hall to my closed bedroom door. “Leah’s angry.”

Bryan nods, not surprised. “And you?”

I release a breath, feeling some of my tension loosening. I’ve been so caught up in Leah’s disappointed feelings, I haven’t really given any thought to my own. “It is what it is, I guess.”

“Hey, nothing wrong with a good surprise,” he says.

“Yeah,” I say, exhaling deeply.

He shoves me in the shoulder. “You know what will help?” he asks, smirking.

I raise my own brow.

“Lap dances and whiskey.”

I laugh, silently appreciating Bryan’s ability to make light of any situation. So today didn’t go as planned, but it’s not the end of the world. And there is still reason to celebrate. Tonight is about Holly and Eddy. We’re all slated to start off the night together with dinner before we separate to do our own thing. I have no idea what the girls have planned, but Bryan had a big hand in planning our after dinner activities. I know they’ll include alcohol and naked girls dancing at some point.

Maybe a night out is exactly what we need. Leah could use some fun after the day we’ve had. I bet she’s thinking the same thing. I’ll talk to her, get her excited about it. Make her forget about today. I’ll do all of that—just as soon as she opens that door.

TWO HOURS LATER, I’m working at my desk, editing some photos when I finally hear my bedroom door open. At this point, I’m not even sure if I should make eye contact with her, whether or not her mood has changed, but as usual when Leah is near, my eyes can’t help but go in search of her. And when they find her, my heart stops.

Wearing a black sleeveless dress that’s molded to her body, she walks into the living room looking like she should be walking a runway. Every sweet and beautiful new curve of hers is on display, nothing hidden. Her long hair falls in loose curls over top her ginormous breasts. I’ve never seen such beautiful cleavage in my life. Her long tanned legs look even longer in her heels, adding endless inches to her height. Her toned arms are decorated with gold jewelry, oversized rings on the fingers of both hands.

“Wow,” is all I can manage.

The look on her face at my one word tells me I’ve finally said something right today.

“Is that a new dress?” I ask.

She nods. “Thank God for Spandex,” she answers.

I remain transfixed as I watch her make her way to me, her hips swaying just slightly with every step. The closer she gets, all my other senses start to go crazy. The light smell of her moisturizer I know all too well has me aching to bury my face into her neck, the glow of her skin begging me to touch her, and the soft pink of her glossed lips has me craving a taste of her.

There are more times than I can count where I’ve seen Leah get dressed up for an evening out. But tonight is different. Tonight, I get to do more than just notice how incredible she looks. Tonight, I get to be the lucky guy who she’s with. Tonight, everyone will know this girl is mine.

“You don’t even look knocked up from this angle,” Bryan says, interrupting my moment. He takes a few steps, standing in front of Leah, looking her up and down. “Fuck me, if it wasn’t for that basketball…” he says, grinning.

Instead of punching him like I expect, Leah smiles. “Coming from you, I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“It was meant as one.” Bryan winks.

And then she laughs.

Laughs! With Bryan for crying out loud!

She can barely stand his pregnancy comments these days, but now he’s the one getting her to laugh? Smile? Without warning, a completely different feeling altogether forms in the pit of my stomach. It’s acidic and burns up my body, causing my arms to stiffen and hands to curl into fists at my side. I try and breathe through it, knowing it’s ridiculous to be jealous of Bryan, but logic is lost on me right now.

“Don’t you need to get ready?” I say through clenched teeth. Bryan nods and smirks at hearing the begrudging tone in my voice.

“Yes, I do,” he says walking way. “Titties await!”

We both watch him head to his room before Leah turns to me, an eyebrow raised.

“Titties?”

I press my lips together, feigning ignorance. “I have no clue what he’s talking about.”

“Sure,” she answers, saying nothing more about it. She takes another few steps, the images on my computer screen grabbing her attention. The shots I’ve been editing for the last few hours. They’re from a shoot I did last week for an up and coming lingerie designer right here in Miami. “Are these from your shoot last week?”

There’s an edge to her voice. Looking down at the screen, I can kind of understand why. Frame after frame are models in skimpy lingerie, lace panties and see-through bras. Leah leans over me, using the mouse to scroll through more images. “Looks like you had your hands full.”

I don’t like the unease I hear in her voice, the one that hints at self-consciousness. How could she think any of these women have anything on her? Didn’t she just witness my reaction when she walked out of the bedroom? My Neanderthal reflex towards Bryan?

“This one,” she begins, “is my favorite.” I glance at the photo in question. The model is lying on a bed, sheets deliberately placed as to show off most of her half-naked body. The scene was meant to depict her waking up looking impeccable in her silk nightie.

“Is your client serious?” Leah asks. “‘Comfort in lace.
’
If he really wanted to make this realistic, you should have taken her picture the way women really look waking up in something as ridiculous as that. One strap falling off the shoulder, one boob hanging out. The caption should read ‘
Survives all your twists and turns.’
”

I laugh, relieved she’s talking to me again.

I take another look at the photo and shake my head, knowing Comb’s right. Although the picture itself is beautiful, the ad is foolish. “I’ll pass along the thought,” I tell her, lifting my arm and wrapping it around her waist.

Leah eyes don’t sway from the screen. “She’s very pretty,” she says quietly.

I look up, focusing only on her. “I hadn’t noticed,” I answer. I’m not lying either. For months, Leah has been the only girl I’ve noticed.

“Sure,” she says, rolling her eyes.

I stand, filling the empty space between us. Carefully, as to not mess up her hair or makeup, I place my hands on the sides of her face and make her look up. Make her look into my eyes.

“It’s true,” I tell her. “My camera might see her, see all of them, but
my
eyes? They only see you.”

She swallows slowly, her eyes scanning my face, determining whether or not to believe me. I hate that she has doubts. Doubts that she is all I see. So I kiss her. Slowly, carefully, but with as much passion a light kiss like this can give. I kiss her in a way I hope shows my claim on her and how she’s laid claim on me. When I hear her moan and her hands grip my biceps, I believe I’ve made a step in accomplishing that.

It’s incredibly hard to pull away from her, but I do. “I have to go shower,” I whisper in her ear before walking away. After a few steps, I hear her near breathless voice speak.

“Okay.”

I smile to myself, knowing she finally gets it.

AN HOUR LATER, we are all sitting at Prime 112 Steakhouse. The lights are dim but it’s a comfortable balance to the white leather chairs and curtains framing the windows. The exposed ivory brick and wooden beamed ceiling opens the space up, which is good considering it’s a small restaurant. Glass wine racks fill up the walls, lit up from the inside. The bar’s clear stools all have people sitting on them waiting for a table. We, on the other hand, were promptly escorted to a small room near the back of the restaurant reserved for our party of twenty. The windows have dark blinds, shielding us from any outside observers. The room is elegant and private, just large enough to stand around in, but too small for any uninvited guests.

In the middle of the room is a large dark wood dining room, set and ready for when our meals arrive. Seated beside each other and at the center of the table are our guests of honor. The rest of us are scattered around, drinking wine or something a little heavier to start the evening off. It’s an interesting mix of people here. Guys from Eddy’s work, some from our college days. Same with the girls. Holly’s sister is here, as are friends from her college days, and a few from work. There are quite a few people here I’ve been looking forward to seeing but due to a certain someone monopolizing my attention, I’ve hardly spoken to any of them. And she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it.

Leah and I aren’t seated next to each other around this large table. Instead, we are directly across from one another. From this vantage point, I can easily watch as she brushes her hair behind her ear or lets her head fall back in laughter at something Holly’s sister said. I get to see her eyes shine, smile get bigger, cheeks turning pink. I try and concentrate on what Nate, a friend from Eddy’s home town is saying to me, but my attention refuses to be diverted. I love hearing her laugh or seeing the look of excitement that comes over her face when someone asks about the baby. And I can’t help but smirk every time someone tells her they’re shocked at how far along she is. I swear Leah’s favorite words tonight have been “But you’re so tiny!”

It’s not until after cocktails and our meals have come and gone do I realize I’ve spent the entire evening watching her have fun. And when Bryan announces to the group it’s time to split up so the real parties can get started, I realize I won’t be able to watch her for the rest of the night. Right before we are all set to leave, I walk over to Leah, taking hold of one her arms and pulling her to me.

“Be good tonight,” I threaten with a smile.

Her lips hitch upwards but they don’t quite reach her eyes. I can tell this night has already tired her out and it’s barely started. “To be honest, I’m not sure I’ll make it much longer.” Guilt and disappointment shadows over her face. She rubs her stomach while stifling a yawn.

“Do you want to go home?” I ask, absolutely willing to go with her if she wants.

“Yes,” she says quietly. “But I’ll tough it out a little while longer. I don’t want to disappoint Holly. Besides, Bryan would kill you if you bail on them.”

As if on cue, Bryan comes over, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “Time to get Eddy shit-faced.”

“You sure?” I ask Leah once more.

Leah leans in and kisses me quickly on the lips. “Behave,” she says, smiling before heading out with the rest of girls.

Bryan shakes my shoulders, raging with excitement. “Let’s get fucking drunk!”

I HAVE NO idea what time it is. I barely know where I am. Our night went from zero to wrecked very fast. I loosely remember shots with the guys before we left the restaurant, a lot of rum at the Rumbar Lounge only to be followed by even more shots at the strip club. Flashes of Eddy up on stage getting a lap dance run through my mind as I ride silently in the back of a cab.

“Excuse me, sir,” I slur a little. “What time is it?”

“Four,” he replies.

I nod, trying to count how many hours have passed since I received Leah’s last text.

The time next to the texts tells me she sent it at eleven twenty-seven. Hours ago.

I picture her in my head, settled in under blankets, wearing one of my shirts. Her hair splayed out over her pillow, her face soft and pink from being scrubbed clean.

The vision tugs at me, the urge to be with her and asleep next to her strong. My drunken logic tells me she probably wants the same thing and wouldn’t mind being woken up to have me crawl into bed with her.

I tell the cab driver I’ve changed my mind and give him Comb’s address. Every mile we drive getting closer to her apartment, the better this idea sounds.

I hand some cash to the driver, nearly tumbling out of the car. My feet are sluggish but I make my way inside her building, to the elevator and up to her floor. I pat my pockets looking for my keys. One of them is for this door. I’m ridiculously proud of myself when I find them. It takes me a minute or two to finally get the key into the lock but when I do, I mentally pat my own back with even more pride. I make my way into her apartment, bumping into things as I head to her bedroom. Unpacked boxes of baby supplies, piles of baby clothes neatly folded and tucked away in every corner. I trip over something and use the couch to break my fall, causing some of those piles to fall over. “This place is so small,” I mumble.