Now And Always (Crown Creek) Page 9

  He seemed to understand that without me saying it. He looked down at his hands and threaded his fingers together. He clenched them so tightly that his knuckles shone white before he pulled them apart, nodding decisively. “I’ll help you.”

  It was such a simple declaration, but so stunning that my mouth fell open. My heart gave a tentative little leap. “What can you do?" I asked him, wanting to hope. Ethan was the only person I knew who could conceivably solve a problem like this. I believed this with every fiber of my being. “What can you do?"

  His mouth did that flattening thing again, and he turned away from me, sending my heart crashing back down again.

  Only the little vein beating at his temple gave away his anger, but I saw it, and a shock of fright whipped through me.

  All of a sudden I was crying again.

  “Claire?” He paused. “Why are you crying again? I thought you’d stopped.”

  “Oh, my God. Come on,” I blubbered. If I told him I was crying about him being angry at me, he’d feel bad and maybe not hug me again, so I thought of any other reason for my tears and found plenty. “I just got that promotion, you know?” I was whining, but I didn’t give a crap. I was whining like a child complaining something wasn’t fair because it. Fucking. Wasn’t. “You know how hard I worked for that? You know how much I busted my ass to get where I am? I had a plan. Everything was on track and going the way it should.” A shocked gasp tore from my throat. “This isn’t the kind of thing that’s supposed to happen to me, for God’s sake. I’m smart. I have goals. I’m…” I caught myself before I could yell that I was special, because the fact that I’d gotten pregnant from a one-night stand -- in spite of a condom and the pill -- proved I was anything but. “This wasn't supposed to happen to me,” I finished lamely. Defeatedly. “This wasn't supposed to happen at all.”

  Ethan shifted, sliding around until his back rested against the toilet. He pulled me to his chest. “Don't think about how things are supposed to be,” he said. It sounded like he was saying this to himself as well. “Think about how they actually are.”

  I nodded and closed my eyes. His chest rose and fell, and slowly, without thinking about it, I matched my breathing to his. He still had the slow, steady heartbeat of a cross-country runner, but that wasn’t the only thing deliberate about him.

  Everything about Ethan was still, and solid, and slow. He was the exact opposite of me, which was why I’d always liked him and why he frustrated me more than anyone else in the world.

  I didn't know how long we lay there. I felt like I was floating outside of my body in a bubble of unreality. Time stretched and dipped and twisted back on itself. I might have fallen asleep.

  I was definitely asleep when Ethan shifted under me. “Sorry,” he breathed against my ear. “My ass is numb.”

  A helpless giggle escaped my lips. “Oh, my God. You must be so uncomfortable,” I realized. “Let me get off you.”

  “You sure you’re ready?”

  “For what?”

  “For me to let go.”

  It was a strange question. But he was right to ask it. “I…don’t think I am, no,” I confessed in a small voice that didn't sound like mine at all.

  He nodded. “Come on.” There was authority in his voice that I wasn't used to. But I trusted him far more than I trusted myself.

  So I let him lead me to his bed.

  He helped me climb in, then climbed behind me and curled his long body around mine. He tucked my hair behind my ear, then brushed my temple with a soft, cherishing kiss.

  I turned to him. His lips were only a few small centimeters from mine. I opened my eyes wide. His widened, too, and my heart skipped over itself in anticipation of what came next.

  Then the moment passed. He let go of me, and slid over to his side of the bed. “I’m staying right here,” he murmured. “Okay?”

  “Okay,” I agreed, closing my eyes.

  He brushed his fingers through my hair again and again. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to calm the storm in my head. As I drifted towards sleep, one last thought rose to the surface, clear and perfectly formed.

  It should be his.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ethan

  I woke up with my arms around her.

  Panicked, I pulled back and propped myself up on my elbow. One heart-stopping second later, I breathed a sigh of relief to see that we were both fully clothed.

  We'd slept together. But only slept, nothing more.

  How could I wish for more when she was hurting like this?

  Disgusted with myself for even daring to want that, I rolled away from her and launched myself to my feet. I stalked to the window and braced myself against the windowsill to take slow, steadying breaths.

  Outside, another early season snowstorm had dumped at least five more inches on the ground. Light flakes still fell, dancing in crazy, spiraling circles. But behind the scudding curtain of clouds, a weak, watery sun attempted to peek through.

  It was going to be a beautiful day, and it had started with Claire in my bed.

  I turned back to her. She was still asleep, her fist tucked up under her chin and her mouth screwed down in a frown. She looked like she was thinking deep, important thoughts. And I had no doubt that she was. I wanted to know what she was dreaming.

  I shoved that thought down again. There was no time for that. It was getting close to eight o'clock.

  Her purse was still on my kitchen table where she'd left it. It wasn't hard to figure out her lock screen code—her address, and then her birth year, she used it for everything. I scrolled through her contacts until I found Cole Granger's number, then dialed.

  He answered on the second ring with a hearty, “What’s up, killer?”

  Killer? I cleared my throat. “Ah, this is Claire's friend Ethan. I'm calling to let you know she got food poisoning last night. Must have been something in the mashed potatoes.” I was usually a terrible liar, but this one came so easily I was a little proud.

  There was a chuckle in Cole's voice as he replied, “Her friend, huh?”

  I bristled. “Yeah. Her friend. We’ve been friends forever, since grammar school actually. She’s basically like my sister but—” I caught myself before I started over-explaining. “Anyway, a group of us go out every Thursday night.”

  “Yeah, her thing. She’s mentioned it. Thought it was only girlfriends though.” Why was he laughing?

  “It’s not. Anyway, she started feeling crappy then. She hoped it would pass by now but—”

  “Right.” Cole didn't believe me. Not about Claire having food poisoning, but that I was just her friend. “Well, Claire’s friend Ethan, you're taking care of her, right?”

  “I am.”

  “Not her family? Her mom?”

  I had no idea how to answer that. I opened my mouth, then closed it.

  Cole burst out laughing. "Nah, man, I'm just giving you shit. You two have fun today. Get your Black Friday shopping in or whatever. Tell Claire I hope she feels better soon."

  Cole hung up without saying goodbye. I stared at the phone and considered calling him back to explain further. Maybe text him a few pictures of Claire and me on the junior varsity track team to bolster the friend story.

  “Oh, fuck!" My bedsprings screeched. There was a thud, then Claire flew out of my bedroom in a blind panic. “Oh, my God, why did you let me sleep so late?" she demanded, shoving past me to the coffee maker. “I’ve got to go, right now!”

  “It's okay," I reassured her, holding out her phone. “I called you out."

  She whirled around. "You did what?!”

  Her fury made me step back. “You were sick. Or, you know, not really sick, but not feeling well. So I called your boss and let him know you weren't coming in. He said feel better soon." I grinned at her, feeling pretty proud of myself. I wouldn't normally do something like this, but take-charge Claire definitely would. I waited for her to be impressed with me.

  At the very least, she was speechless. He
r mouth opened and closed several times before she finally spoke. “What the actual fuck, Ethan?”

  I squinted at her. “What?”

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” she hissed. “Whether I go to work or not is none of your business.”

  “You slept in my bed last night, I’d say that makes it my business! You should be thanking me—”

  “I’m not going to fucking thank you for interfering like that! You had no right! Who the hell do you think you are, making these decisions for me?"

  “Um. Your friend?” I waved at her, inviting her to remember the…situation here. “Clearly you can't be going to work with—"

  “And why the hell not?" She planted her hands on her hips. “You think I’m that fragile?”

  “No! Of course not.”

  She waved her hand in my face before pointing her finger right up under my nose. “And even if I didn't go to work today, I'm the one who gets to decide that. Not you." She shoved me hard in the shoulder. “Don't you ever think of doing something so stupid again."

  “Don't fucking push me," I warned her. “Did you really just push me?”

  She stepped back. “Okay, sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed you. But goddammit, Ethan.”

  I held up my hands. “You can't be mad at me, Claire."

  “And why the hell not?” she spat. “You're insane if you think you have the—” She stopped short. Her eyes went wide.

  “Claire?”

  She sprinted past me.

  Straight into the bathroom.

  “Oh, hell.” I clapped my hand to my forehead when she turned the water on full blast. Because even that noise wasn’t enough to drown out the sound of her retching.

  All the heat that had risen to my cheeks suddenly drained out, leaving me cold. “Fuck.” I rubbed the back of my neck.

  My heart wasn't beating anymore. It was struggling to jump out of my chest and go to her. Fuck. Claire. I opened the fridge. The ginger ale was completely flat now. Which was perfect. I poured her a small glass, grabbed a sleeve of saltines from the cupboard, then knocked on the bathroom door.

  “No,” she croaked from the other side.

  I sighed. “Come on," I urged, more gruffly than I meant. “Ginger ale and saltines. It worked before.”

  The door squeaked on its hinges. She let it swing open, but she didn't look at me.

  I set the ginger ale and sleeve of crackers on the floor next to her and then backed away like I was trying to lure a skittish dog with the promise of treats.

  She glanced at them, then up at me.

  And I couldn't help myself. “What were you saying about how I shouldn’t have called you in sick?”

  Her eyes fluttered closed in exasperation. But like I’d hoped it would, my teasing put the steel back in her spine. “Fuck off,” she breathed.

  “Just a small sip,” I reminded her.

  She wrinkled her nose but complied, taking a tiny sip of ginger ale and then nibbling the corner of a single saltine.

  She’d listened to me. I should leave her alone now. But I knew her. And I knew how hard she worked to avoid what she didn’t want to admit. So I decided to press my luck. “You need to make an appointment, Claire.”

  “For what?" she barked distractedly.

  “The doctor. Your OB.”

  Her eyes went as wide as saucers. I’d thought she was pale before, but now she was as white as a ghost.

  I rubbed the back of my neck again. I hated messing with her pride this way. But I said I'd help her, and right now this was the kind of help she needed. I stared at the wall. “So, I called your boss for you. Want me to call the doctor too?”

  I looked down at her. And once again I was locked in place by her gaze.

  She looked up at me the way she had last night, when she’d trapped me with the promise of her lips.

  I couldn’t breathe. How many times had I longed for Claire to look at me this way? Like I was brand-new? Like I wasn’t her buddy Ethan but someone she wanted as desperately as I wanted her.

  I had no idea how many times, because I'd never allowed myself to hope. Hope was dangerous. But it was also the best feeling in the world.

  Slowly, in the tiniest of motions, she nodded.

  “Okay. Just tell me your doctor's name. I'll take care of it."

  “Dr. Warners at Reckless Falls Hospital,” she said meekly. I must have looked startled, because she sighed. “I chose the place closest to my work, since I'm always there.” She glanced up with a wry smile. “Except when my friends call me in against my will."

  “Makes sense. And it sounds like you have smart friends.” I turned to go.

  “Hey, Bailey?" she called once I was almost back in the kitchen.

  I went back to the bathroom. She'd pulled herself up to a stand, and for the first time since yesterday, her shoulders were squared. "Yeah?”

  She ran her tongue along her bottom lip. “Thank you.”

  I gripped the doorframe but that wasn't enough to hold me back. In two steps, I had her in my arms. Hugging her tight, I turned my face into the place where her shoulder met her neck and breathed deep.

  She rested her hands on my back. Lightly at first. Then slowly her fingertips curled, pressing into my shoulder blades until she clung to me. She trembled and I shushed her, smoothing her hair away from her ear. “It's okay," I reminded her. “It's going to be okay.”

  She shivered, and then the tension drained out of her. She pulled back, sniffling, and met my eyes.

  I could kiss her.

  I wanted to kiss her.

  But I hugged her again instead.

  “Ethan?”

  “Yeah?”

  She shifted against me, and I knew what she was about to say. I pulled my hips back just a second too late.

  Her eyes went to my crotch, which was bulging noticeably, “The hell is that?"

  I tugged at the fabric of my pants and shrugged. “I can't help it. Puking girls have always been my biggest turn-on.”

  She tossed her head back and laughed. “You have that in your Tinder profile?"

  “Oh, for sure. It’s the very first line. ‘Strong, single carpenter seeks woman to defile his toilet bowl.’” I shook my head in mock disbelief. “I can't imagine why they're not lining up.”

  She gave me a pretty perfect side-eye, and just like that we were back in familiar territory. My hopes squashed back down where they belonged.

  I couldn’t feel that way for her.

  Especially now that she was pregnant with another man's baby.

  It was none of my business. It was none of my goddamned business. But Claire told me everything.

  So when was she going tell me who the father was?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Claire

  Thirty-two unread messages. That's how many texts I’d missed.

  Sitting at my desk, I turned my phone over guiltily. My absence from the group chat was definitely not going unnoticed. I'd begged out of last week's gathering at the Crown, claiming I was swamped at work. And the week before that had been Thanksgiving.

  But now it was Thursday again. My friends expected to see me tonight. They’d be waiting at our usual table for our regular weekly get-together.

  Regular.

  Today was not regular in any way.

  Today was the day of my doctor's appointment.

  I flipped my phone back over again. Ignoring the messages, I checked the time.

  Only eight forty-eight in the morning. I'd already been here for two hours, a fact Cole exclaimed over when he arrived at 7:45. "Guess I'm just awesome," I'd told him.

  But I wasn't awesome. Ethan was.

  I’d slept at his house again last night. And this morning he'd made me breakfast and packed my lunch. “I can do this myself, you know,” I’d snipped at him when he handed me my brown paper bag. I was half teasing, half serious.

  “I know you can. But you don’t have to” was his reply.

  I had no idea what the hell to make of E
than lately. I thought I had him all figured out but now I was learning new things about him every day. It was confusing.

  But not as confusing as my reaction when my phone buzzed and his name popped up on my screen.

  Ethan: Don't forget to call me. And if you change your mind about wanting me there let me know. I can be there in 20.

  My heart had no right to skip a beat like that.

  I slowly lowered my phone to my desk, then lowered my head as well. I inhaled and exhaled, and tried to clear my thoughts. But one thought remained. The same thought that came to me the night I found out I was pregnant.

  God, I wish it was his.

  My head shot back up so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash. “What the fuck?” I said aloud, then jumped to my feet and backed away, like I could sidestep my craziness. Was I seriously wishing that Ethan, my friend, the best guy I knew, but one I definitely didn't want to fuck, was the father of this baby?

  Pregnancy was really doing my head in.

  Then again, the voice of self-hatred, reminded me, Ethan would be a hell of a lot better than the actual father.

  I pushed that thought aside as the outside door slammed shut. Kelly arrived with much stamping of feet and sniffling against the cold.

  I took a deep, steadying breath and tried to arrange my face into something resembling a smile of greeting. She usually poked her head in to say hello, after all.

  But this morning she walked right past my office as if she hoped I wouldn't notice.

  This was new.

  I got up from my desk and called, “Kelly?”

  She whirled around. The tip of her nose was bright red, but not from the cold. Her eyes were obscured behind ridiculously large sunglasses, but trails of black seeped out from underneath them.

  She’d been crying. Hard. “Uh, sorry, Claire. Am I late?" She wiped frantically at her cheeks.

  “No, you're fine.” I hesitated. In my group of friends, it was Willa who played the role of mom. I was the muscle. The one who didn’t start shit but always finished it. I was the bitch, the brat, the boss. The complete opposite of maternal.