The Anchor (13 page)

My uncle always says, ‘Expect the worst and hope for the best.’ So tonight, I expected Nikki to ignore me and not give me the time of day. I’d hoped I’d end up balls-deep inside her with her bent over in front of me. I’m glad my hopes came true. She managed to ignore me most of the party, but every so often I’d catch her looking at me from across the room before she’d quickly dart her gaze away. She looked worried or concerned. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but something is different about her.

As I watch her drift off to sleep, it feels exactly the way it did our first night together. Calm. Peaceful.

The night I spent with Nikki in New York months ago is something I’ll never forget. The image of her body in the tub with me, the sheen of her skin, all wet and soapy, sitting on top of me, riding my dick, makes me hard every time I think about it. That was the second time we had sex.

The third time was in the bed and I took my time with her. I eased into her slowly, but pressed myself against her so I could go as deeply as possible. She clawed my back and squeezed my ass as she moaned and mewed in pleasure. It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. The last time, I took her hard and fast. I tied her hands to the bedpost with my tie and fucked her like my life depended on it. Afterward, she collapsed in my bed. I’ve never liked the after-sex part—holding each other and lying in bed together. But with her . . . I didn’t hesitate. I pulled her to me and she rested her head on my chest and slipped one leg over my thigh. And as her breathing slowed, and her body relaxed, a part of me relaxed, too, for the first time in a long time.

When I woke up the next morning, she wasn’t in the bed with me. She’d already returned to her and Edie’s room to pack. And that was the end of it. There were no playful smiles or wanting stares . . . there was nothing. She’d gotten what she wanted and was fully prepared to go home. The last little glimmer I got from her was at the airport before she and Edie left to board their plane. She’d been looking at anyone and anything but me. But as she said good-bye to me, holding her hand out like we were going to shake after a business meeting, I smiled. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Parker,” she’d said stiffly. Taking her hand, I leaned down and kissed it softly, lifting my eyes to hers, her gaze fixed on me and her mouth parted slightly.

“It was lovely meeting you, Nicole.”

She took a sharp intake of breath, but quickly composed herself and pulled her hand away. Then, John and I watched her and Edie disappear into the airport.

As I close my eyes with her body next to mine, I want to talk to her about us. I know there isn’t an “us.” I know we live far away from each other, but we could try . . . right? Either way, this shit where she ignores me is going to stop. But before I can speak, calmness settles over me. Sleep never comes easy for me. My mind always runs; never resting. But right now, there is peace. I go with it and let it pull me in. And my last thought before my mind shuts down is
we’ll talk in the morning.

I’m walking down the hall as if the floor is made of eggshells, carrying my strappy heels in my hand. I couldn’t find my bra in the dark and I knew my panties were destroyed so I didn’t even bother doing a blind search for them. Edie will love discovering those when she cleans the room after Parker leaves. I can’t wait for that conversation. Quickly and quietly, I managed to slip my dress back on and get it zipped up most of the way without waking Parker. I don’t want to wake anyone. I’ve just made it to the doorway into the kitchen when I hear, “Walk of shame?”

I nearly jump out of my skin. “What the fuck, John?” I hiss. “You scared the shit out of me!”

I hear a few footsteps and then I’m blinded when the kitchen light comes on. “Fucker,” I mumble under my breath. I wince and clench my eyes closed.

“You say good-bye to him?” John asks as he sips from a glass of water. He’s wearing a pair of cotton pajama pants, but no shirt. He’s a good-looking man, muscular and broad shoulders, but right now after scaring me and trying to blind me, he seems like the spawn of Satan.

“You’re just sneaking out on him?”

“No,” I lie. “I said good-bye.” I had a backup plan for tonight. I knew there was a chance I would chicken out and not tell Parker about the baby. So, preparing for the worst, I wrote him a letter. Moving past John and into the utility room, I grab the bag I brought with me. Pulling the envelope out, I walk back to John and smile. “Would you give this to him, please?”

John’s eyes dart from mine to the envelope and then back again. With a curt nod, letting me know he’ll give the letter to Parker for me, he sets his glass on the counter as he stands up straight and takes the envelope. “Thanks.” With a nod, I head toward the front door.

“Hey, Nik,” John calls and I turn back to him. His brows are furrowed as he takes a step toward me. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” I laugh. “I hardly drank tonight.” Another lie. I didn’t drink anything.

“Not what I meant. I know this might sound weird, but you’re like a sister to Edie. And that makes you important to me, too. I hope you know we’re
both
here for you if you need anything.”

Stepping to him, I hug him and smile. “Thanks, John. I really appreciate that.” Then in an attempt to swallow my emotion, I say, “The party was beautiful.”

“Yeah . . . it was,” he agrees.

“You were a hit,” I commend. “Holly Springs is lucky to have you.”

He snorts. “And so is Edie,” I add. “I’m glad you came back for her. I know what you gave up to do it.”

His gaze drops to the floor before meeting mine again. “I have no regrets, Nik. Nothing that I could achieve in life would be worth shit without her.”

I kiss his cheek. I love this man for the way he loves my best friend. In that way, John and I are bonded. We love Edie James and would do anything to see her happy. “I’ll see you later.” With that, I leave Edie’s house and cry all the way home.

We’re halfway to the airport and the car is silent. Edie rode with us, insisting I sit in the front with John. When I woke up this morning, I was pissed. Nikki was gone. Why does this woman keep running out on me? It’s fucking infuriating. I thought about demanding to John to give me her address and storming over to her place, but thought better of it. A man has to cut his losses at some point. It’s not like I haven’t tried for months to connect with her. This is the last straw. She doesn’t want me. I need to man up and move on. But even I know it’s not that easy. Nikki’s not a girl you just forget. I have no doubt that I’ll always compare every woman I touch to her.

“Here, man,” John says, pulling me away from my thoughts as he slips out an envelope from his jacket pocket.

I snort as I take it from him. “Aw, sweetie. Did you write me another love letter, John? You shouldn’t give it to me in front of Edie. She might get jealous.”

“No, didn’t write a letter this time. It’s a poem,” he laughs. “It’s a poem about how soft your skin is and how your eyes sparkle when you come.”

“That’s some deep shit, man,” I laugh.

“You two are ridiculous,” Edie giggles from the backseat.

“You didn’t know you had some competition, did you, Edie?”

“I’m shaking in my boots back here,” she plays along.

“Nah, man . . . all kidding aside, this is from Nikki,” John says. My eyes narrow as I stare down at the envelope in my hand. I’m so frustrated, I want to crush it like an old beer can. “She gave it to me last night before she left.”

“You saw her?”

“Caught her . . . more or less.”

I glance back at Edie and she’s biting her lower lip. “You know what it says?” I ask her.

“I think I do,” she says, ever so quietly. “You need to read it.”

I glance at John and he shrugs. Apparently he doesn’t know what it says. Fuck it. Tearing it open, I pull out the letter and unfold it. What the fuck could she have to say to me in this letter that she couldn’t say to my face? Must be a brush-off—bon voyage, loser. This is what I’m bracing myself for. I twist my neck from side to side till I hear it crack. Let the rejection commence.

Parker,

This letter is my backup plan in case I can’t say to your face what I need to. Just know I never meant for this to happen and I expect nothing from you, but I think it’s the right thing to do to tell you. You deserve to know.

I’m pregnant.

Ten weeks, to be exact. I’ve already been to the doctor . . . it’s the real deal.

I know your life is in New York and you have a new job. As I said, I expect nothing from you. I can take care of this baby by myself. And I won’t judge you or resent you if you choose not to participate in the child’s life. Neither of us planned for this.

I’m sorry, Parker. I really am.

~Nikki

My face goes numb as all the blood drains from it.

She’s pregnant.

With my child.