That night, I wake up to thunder rolling somewhere in the distance. I don’t open my eyes, the weight of too many long days at the job site heavy on my lids. I turn on my side, knowing I’ll fall back asleep if I give it a minute.
The inside of my right arm burns with the tattoo I got earlier tonight. Cole and I decided to go to Rockford after the pizza and get those tattoos he mentioned. He chose an anchor in the middle of his back, accompanied by a compass and a fisherman’s knot with the motto “Forged by the Sea” around it. It’s all just outlined, though. He said he’ll get it colored in after he’s earned it.
I’m guessing that means after his first six months at sea.
The candle etched on my skin feels like it’s actually lit, the smoke from the wick drifting up the inside of my arm all the way to my elbow. I’ve known since Cole first mentioned tattoos two months ago that something that represents Jordan was the only thing I wanted on me for the rest of my life. The birthday girl and her wishes. She’ll always be a part of me.
I inhale a long breath, and even though I’ve washed the sheets several times since she left, I can still smell her hair on the pillows.
And if I concentrate hard enough and keep my eyes closed, she’s there next to me.
I snake an arm around her body, and pull her into me, burying my nose in her cool hair.
“Was I snoring?” she whispers.
I smile, trying not to laugh. “No.”
She’s so self-conscious, and it’s adorable. I hug her to me, feeling so filled, because everything I need is in my arms right now. Her curves fit every inch of mine, and I’m whole. My chest fills with something almost too much to contain.
She breathes calmly, and I run my hand over her naked stomach, my body coming alive for her. So easily, like it always does.
Suddenly, her small voice pierces the quiet room again.
“You got me pregnant,” she whispers.
I still. What did she say?
No, that can’t be right. We’ve been careful.
When I don’t say anything, she turns around and faces me, her guarded eyes on mine. “I missed my period last week,” she says timidly. “I took a few tests earlier today. Best I can figure is I’m about a month along.”
I close my eyes. Oh, my God. A baby?
My baby.
“I hope she has my eyes,” she tells me.
I open mine. “Your eyes?”
“Well, she’ll be a mix of both of us, after all,” she explains, “and I want her to have your smile. It evens out, right?”
I touch her face. “You’re sure? There’s a baby?”
She nods. “I’m sure.” She looks at me warily and asks, “Is that okay?”
I open my mouth, no words coming out. A baby? I picture myself waking up with an infant in the middle of the night, car seats, and cartoons, and I’m overwhelmed, but strangely, I feel…so fucking in love with her and the idea of her body growing with my kid.
But I wanted her to have choices. Does she really want this?
The only thing I know is that I want her. I want everything with her, and I wish, for her sake, it wasn’t yet, but I wanted this eventually.
“I love you,” I whisper. “I love you so much.”
She exhales and smiles as if she were holding her breath that whole time, and climbs on top of me, straddling me.
“I love you, too.” She kisses me, her naked body molding to mine. “I was so nervous. I didn’t know if you’d want more kids, or—”
“Shh, baby,” I tell her, kissing her and holding her face. “I love you. I just…” I pause and then continue, looking up into her eyes. “You’re stuck with me now, aren’t you?”
She gives me a little smile, and I take her ass in my hands.
“I’ve seen lots of bad love, Pike,” she says. “We both have, haven’t we?” And then she does the barest of grinds on me, awakening my body immediately. “This is the good kind. When you find it, you keep it. Nothing is more important.”
I grow hard as she moves against me, and I hold her face, staring up into her eyes.
“Do you love me?” she asks.
“I’ll never stop loving you.”
She dives in, kissing me and hovering her lips over mine. “Then I’m so lucky,” she whispers. “We’re so lucky.”
I dig my hands into her and pull her closer, but there’s suddenly nothing there, and I blink my eyes open, seeing that my arms are empty. It was a dream, and I can’t slow my breathing. Whipping off the sheet, I sit up, swing my legs over the side, and bury my head in my hands.
“Fuck,” I choke out, my forehead covered in sweat.
I’m still hard, blood pulsing through my cock, because I can still feel as much now as I could two months ago. I’d give anything to have her in my arms right now.
Standing up, I pull on my jeans and head out of the bedroom. I pass Cole’s room where he’s asleep inside and quietly open Jordan’s door. Her room’s been closed up for eight weeks, and I’m overcome as soon as I inhale. She’s everywhere, and I close the door and switch on the light.
Her Home & Garden magazines lay at the bottom of her bed, and I look over to the desk, my eyes falling on its corner and remembering how beautiful she was that night. The boombox Dutch gave her sits on top, and I walk over, turning down the volume and pressing Play. I recognize Bruce Springsteen’s I’m On Fire come out of the speakers, and I adjust the volume again, not wanting to wake Cole.
Walking over to the bed, I sit down and listen to the song, looking around.
I can’t get away from her, and I never want to. I thought I was in love with Lindsay at one time, but I wasn’t. It wasn’t like this.
And I never even told her. She doesn’t know that I love her.
I never thought I’d say this, but Cramer is right. I would’ve loved her with everything I had. She was it for me. I would’ve gone to any length to make her happy for the rest of her life.
But I blew it.
Looking over, I spot a jar sitting on her bedside table, the label on front reading Dreams. I reach over and take it, studying the few dozen little scrolls of paper, all different colors and tied with gold string, piled inside.
My heart thumps in my ears, not wanting to invade her privacy, but I need to know. I need to know her dreams don’t include me or things I can give her. Her love clouds her mind. What she wrote here will be the truth.
Unscrewing the lid, I dump the scrolls on the bed and pick one up. I slide the string off, my stomach rolling with nerves as I unroll the first scroll.
Invent my own Christmas tradition.
I smile weakly, something like that sounding right up her alley. She’s creative, and I’d love to see what she comes up with.
Setting it down, I pick up another one and pull it apart, reading it.
Drive a convertible with the top down in the rain.
Yeah, I can just see her dragging me out for something like that, trying to get me to have some fun.
Picking up another scroll, my smile falls, and my mouth goes dry, readying myself again to see something I might not like. The pulse in my neck throbs as I unroll it.
Have a library in my house someday. Built-in bookshelves, leaves blowing outside, and a cushy chaise with cozy blankets.
I dig in my eyebrows and drop the paper, quickly picking up another.
I wonder if I can get Pike to stay in bed all day on a rainy day to watch movies.
I guarantee you, girl, watching movies won’t be all we do if we stay in bed all day.
I unroll another. Ride in a hot air balloon.
My breathing quickens as I keep unrolling scrolls, one right after another.
Adopt a dog