Break You Page 15

  “Table for two, please,” he said, shifting his attention to the host.

  Two menus were pulled from the holder and we were motioned to follow to our seats. Once we were seated at a booth near the back of the room, Jason turned his charming smile on me.

  “So, what made you decide to retract your decision about a second date?” he asked. I could see the glimmer of wariness enter his eyes.

  I hated that I’d put it there, but then I reminded myself it had been because of his actions that I’d denied him before. Marla Danes popped into my head and I felt my lips twist into a sour expression.

  “I don’t know.” I forced a small smile. My stomach was hard as a rock.

  Our waiter came up to our table just then. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “I’ll take a medium Texas-style margarita, frozen, please,” Jason said before I could order my drink first. Obviously, he was eager to get a margarita to his lips. “Do you want one too?”

  “No,” I said a little too quickly. “I’ll take water with lemon, please.”

  “Really? I’m paying, just so you know,” Jason insisted, as though this new knowledge would sway me into drinking a fishbowl with him.

  “No, water is fine. Really.” I dropped my eyes to the tabletop and began picking at the napkin edge of my silverware roll.

  “All right, suit yourself,” he said with a shrug. He shook his head when the waiter walked away. “I can’t believe you’re turning down the best margaritas in town.”

  My muscles tensed. I opened my mouth to snap at him, but thought better of it. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to the restroom.” I had to take a moment to calm my irrational flare of temper and emotions before I let the cat out of the bag like a freaking bomb. “Can you order some of that white cheese dip when he comes back with our drinks, please?” I asked.

  “Sure.” He smiled up at me.

  Pursing my lips together, I made my way to the restroom. Heading straight for the sink, I turned the cold water on and let it run over my wrists. I took in a few deep breaths and thought of how I was going to broach the subject with him. It would be easier to just flat out say it, but I didn’t want to scare him off. I wanted to ease him into it. Well, as best I could.

  After a few minutes of thinking, and still not being able to come up with a gentle way of breaking the news to him, I decided my reasonable amount of time for being in the bathroom had long ago come to an end.

  Jason was sitting at our booth when I came out, double dipping a tortilla chip into the cheese dip I’d had him order. “Hey, I saw that.” I smirked, sliding into the booth across from him.

  “Saw what?” he asked, feigning mock innocence.

  “That double dip-adge going on.” I pointed to the dip.

  “Guilty as charged. I double dipped.”

  “Gross,” I chuckled. It felt good to laugh, too good. Jesus, how was I going to make it through this night?

  “She laughs,” Jason said. His blue eyes glimmered with mockery when I met them.

  My lips betrayed me as they twisted into a small smile. I shouldn’t be smiling right now, not when there was something serious to be said. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

  He shrugged while taking a swig of his margarita. His tongue darted out to lick the crystals of salt off his lips. “Just that you’ve seemed a little stressed this evening. Do I make you uncomfortable?” The way the words fell from his lips and the tone he used when he said them reminded me of dirty-talking foreplay.

  “Yes, you make me all kinds of nervous,” I admitted for reasons beyond my grasp.

  “And why is that, Miss Hayes?”

  “I have my reasons.” I bit my lip and then took a sip of my lemon water.

  Our waiter came back, this time to take our order. Being a creature of habit I ordered my usual, a chicken quesadilla with white cheese on top. Jason ordered the steak fajitas and I said a silent prayer that he hadn’t opted for the shrimp, because I didn’t think I could handle the scent of seafood at the moment.

  “You never did answer my question earlier, but I want to say thank you. I’m glad you asked me out tonight,” Jason said as the waiter walked away.

  My eyes locked across the table with his. He was serious. “Me too,” I said, wishing the circumstances were a little better. God, he was going to hate me once he realized why I’d wanted this date with him. My stomach knotted even more and I thought for a split second I might vomit. “So, I sat with your grandfather the other day for a while. He seems to be doing a little better. I got him to eat a few bites of his meal and drink some water.”

  The conversation stayed on his grandfather and the things Jason had been doing lately, and then it bounced to me. It was a tetherball of topics, springing from him to me until our food came. Somewhere along the string of conversation I decided to wait until his fishbowl of a margarita was nearly empty before I broke the news to him. My reasoning was simple—he would be relaxed by then and in a predominantly good mood.

  I hoped I was right.

  My eyes flicked to his glass, watching as its contents diminished by the minute. Once I spotted the final few sips swirling in the bottom, my heart grew heavy and a tightness formed in my chest. The moment of truth had come. Putting my fork down, I slicked my hands against my skirt and licked my lips. I’d never been one who enjoyed dumping news on an unsuspecting person. Ever. But that was the position I’d found myself in at the moment. I had to do this. There was no way around it.

  “So, I came here to tell you something, actually,” I said. My voice sounded wrong, all raw and clogged with mucus like I was sick or something. I cleared my throat.

  “Really? And what would that be?” he asked in a naive fashion. Obviously he thought I was making a failed attempt at flirting with him.

  I took a deep breath and decided the best way to go about this was to remind him of the last time we were together…what we’d been doing. “Well, you remember our last date, right?” I asked hesitantly.

  His eyes met mine and he made this face that seemed to imply I was stupid. “Umm, yeah.”

  “You remember what we did?” I bit my bottom lip while waiting for him to see where I was going with this. I assumed if he could figure it out on his own it would somehow lessen the blow, but he didn’t appear to be getting what I was hinting at. Not at all. “Unprotected…”

  He stopped chewing. A blank look formed on his face, his eyebrows squinted together, and he swallowed hard before responding.

  “Yeah…” He dragged the word out and held my stare. He knew right where I was going with this. At least he thought he did, but I could see the denial already building behind his eyes. My stomach flipped and my heart raced. I waited for him to say the words aloud so I wouldn’t have to, but he never did. The question I saw burning in his blue eyes never made it to his lips.

  Swallowing hard, I held his stare. “Well, I ended up having to take a test yesterday.” I stopped. The pause in my words was unexpected even to me, but the look in his eyes, the paleness that washed out his face all of a sudden, was enough to make me question whether I should continue forward. After a few moments of Jason staring blankly at me, I realized I had no choice. He wasn’t going to ask, he was simply waiting for me to finish. “I’m pregnant, Jason.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  JASON

  All I could do was stare at her like some dumb fuck. A coldness had knocked me directly in the gut the second the words passed from her lips; it spread through my body at a rate far too fast, causing me to worry that I might pass out. Pressing my hands firmly against the edge of the table, I leaned back a little. Blaire just sat there, fiddling with the half-eaten quesadilla in front of her with her fork. She was waiting for me to say something, to react in some way other than being mute. I knew this, but there was nothing I could do in the moment. I was frozen.

  “I know we aren’t even a couple or whatever, and I’m not looking for anything like that, I just thought you had a r
ight to know. That’s all,” she said. Her words were so soft and sad.

  “What are you going to do?” I asked. My voice sounded harsh and cruel even to my ears.

  Blaire sat up straighter and I felt her eyes bore into me from across the table. “What do you mean?”

  I risked a glance at her. The expression on her face made guilt slosh through my stomach. Her eyes were wide, like my words had smacked her. “Well, I mean, what do you wanna do? You’re the girl.”

  What the hell was I saying? I knew those words were so insensitive and asshole-ish I deserved to be slapped, but I couldn’t take them back. They’d already been said.

  “I’m the girl?” she asked sharply.

  I smoothed my hands over my face. “That’s not what I meant to say. It didn’t come out right. I’m just saying that it’s your body and whatever you decide to do is okay with me.”

  Damn it, that was no better. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  She let out a loud breath. “I just—I don’t know.” Tears glistened in her eyes and I hated myself. I should have said something better. Why the hell did the wrong thing continue to fumble from my mouth?

  “I don’t know either.” It was the truth, but again, not something I should have said aloud. My shoulders sunk. I glanced at the empty margarita glass in front of me, wishing it would magically fill itself to the rim again.

  “I didn’t expect you to be all happy about this, but…” She trailed off and shook her head. When I looked at her, tears were making their way down her cheeks. “I expected more than you saying you’re the girl and then insinuating I could have an abortion if I want.”

  “I freaked, okay? I’m still freaking out a bit.” I threw my hands up in the air to emphasize my point. I was beyond attempting to refrain from sounding like an ass. “I thought you said you were on the pill!”

  “I am!” Her words were clipped. “I was also taking antibiotics for the sinus infection I had the week before.”

  That meant nothing to me.

  “What the hell does that have to do with your birth control?” I asked, taking note of how loud my tone had gotten. People were staring now, but I didn’t give a damn. My world was blasting apart at the seams over here.

  “It has everything to do with it. It canceled out my pill, okay.” She slung her purse strap over her shoulder and began inching out of the booth. “Forget I even said anything to you about it. All I wanted was to let you know. I can see you clearly don’t give a shit, though. Thanks.”

  She was gone before I could think of words that would bring her back. I pressed the palms of my hands into my eyes and sat there, thinking over everything that had just been said.

  She was pregnant. And I was going to be a dad.

  What the fuck had just happened?

  When the waiter came to see how our meal was, I had him take away her plate and ordered myself another margarita. I wasn’t the type who generally agreed when people chose to drown their sorrows with alcohol, but I did think people were entitled to escape from their mind every now and then. Right now, that was exactly what I was choosing to do. I was escaping life, escaping the news Blaire had just given me, and fuck anyone who tried to tell me that I wasn’t entitled to in this moment.

  The waiter brought me my drink. It was a darker color than the last, making me wonder if our little spat hadn’t been overheard by him and he took pity on me. I could smell the tequila without even putting the glass to my nose, it was that strong.

  Pregnant.

  The thought both excited and terrified me at the same time. I shook my head and gripped the glass in front of me. Tipping it back, I allowed myself to escape a little more. I’d think about what this all meant later.

  * * * *

  A noise, loud and annoying, woke me from my slumber the next morning. I rolled over in bed, kicking my sheets that had twisted around me off in the process. It was my phone ringing. My hands moved along my face in a rough rubbing motion. How the hell had I made it home? I’d lost count of how many margaritas I’d had after Blaire stormed off, leaving me at our table all alone. What the hell had happened last night? Sitting up in bed, I ran my fingers through my hair and let out a loud breath, annoyed that my phone hadn’t gone to voicemail yet. Last night’s bombshell dropped on me all over again.

  Holy shit, I was going to be a dad.

  Darting out of bed as soon as the phone stopped ringing, I wondered for a split second if it had been Blaire calling. Halfway to where the phone sat on my dresser, I remembered I still had yet to give my number to her. It was Brian. He’d left a voicemail and I clicked to listen to it.

  “Hey, man, just wanted to see if you were gonna be headed back today or not. Let me know ’cuz we def don’t want a repeat of that one time. You know what I’m talking about.” Brian paused and chuckled into the phone. “Yeah, so hit me up.”

  He and Sarah were getting serious. She’d practically moved in already. It was odd how in the short time I’d been traveling back and forth this had happened. Honestly though, it was probably bound to happen at some point. I looked for Brian and Sarah to be married with 2.5 kids in five years or less.

  Married. Was that what I should do with Blaire? I laughed out loud as a random thought surged through my mind. Hadn’t I just thought about the two of them having a kid and now here I was with one on the way?

  Life could be pretty fucking ironic that way.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  BLAIRE

  “I got new pastel colors the other day. Do you want a pale yellow, pink, or baby blue?” Paige asked. As soon as the word “baby” came from her mouth her eyes grew wide. “I’ve got regular colors too if pastels aren’t your thing.”

  Yellow reminded me of the dress I’d worn that night with Jason. Pink reminded me of a baby girl. And blue brought thoughts of a baby boy to mind. I knew Paige was trying her damnedest to make me feel better, and I loved her for it, but she wasn’t helping.

  “What about that metallic silver color you used to have?” I asked.

  “Moonlight Silver it is,” she said. She rummaged through the basket of nail polishes she’d gathered over the last few years. The girl was a nail polish junkie. “Found it.”

  Lauren came from in the kitchen with a bag of chocolate tucked under one arm and a plate of cheesy nachos in her hand.

  “Sweet and spicy,” she said. She set the plate down on the coffee table and tossed the bag of chocolate beside it. “Chip?” She motioned to the plate.

  I reached out and scooped one up. “Thanks.”

  While Paige painted my toenails, I ate and thought about everything Jason had said last night. I’d been so upset when I returned home that I’d thrown up my entire meal and then some. Paige had been so worried she’d called Lauren, and Lauren had rushed right over to sit with me as well. They’d consoled my endless sobbing and listened to me blubber for hours about what I was going to do now.

  I was lost.

  Thinking of last night caused tears to pool in my eyes all over again. How could a person cry so much?

  “Stop it,” Lauren scolded me. “You’re thinking about everything again and you shouldn’t be. You need to relax and de-stress some. It’s not doing you any good reminding yourself what he said and worrying about what you’re going to do.”

  “That’s easier said than done,” I said. I popped another cheese-covered chip in my mouth and wiped my fingertips on the edge of my jean shorts. “I just wish he had reacted differently.”

  “Maybe he’ll come around, who knows?” Paige said. She put another coat of silver on my pinky toe and smiled up at me. “You did sort of drop the biggest, earth-shattering news imaginable on him over dinner.”

  Closing my eyes, I leaned back against the couch and sucked a tiny piece of tortilla chip from between my teeth. “You’re right. I know I did.”

  “He could have chosen to handle the situation better, though. I mean, let’s not forget he said she was the girl,” Lauren piped in. “I mean, seriously, what th
e fuck kind of dickhead thing was that to say?”

  I laughed, but truthfully it boiled my blood and brought tears to my eyes to even be reminded of those words. “It’s not like I wanted him to jump for joy or get down on one knee. I would have been okay with him looking shocked and then asking me if I was serious first instead of saying what are you going to do like everything was all on me.”

  “Okay, that was a dumb thing to say. I’ll give you that, but you have to see it from his point of view… He was shocked shitless,” Paige said.

  I cocked my head to the side and glared at her. “Why are you defending him so much?”

  “I’m not.”

  “You are,” Lauren agreed. She scooped up another chip and took a bite out of it.

  “Well, I don’t mean to be,” Paige insisted. She tapped my foot and had me place my other one in front of her. “I guess I can just see both sides.” She shrugged.

  Paige was right. There were two sides to this and I was stuck viewing only one of them.

  “So, what are you saying—that I should give him some time or call him or something?” I asked.

  “I don’t think you should call him,” Lauren butted in. Her mouth was full of chips, but it was easy enough to understand her. “If it were me, I wouldn’t. I’d wait until he called me.”

  Waiting for him to call seemed bitchy, but non-clingy. I liked the idea of that.

  “I think you should call him if he hasn’t called you in, say…three days. Give both of yourselves time to think rationally about things and decide what you want from each other. I mean, he has to know from the conversation you already had with him that you plan to keep the baby. So now really all there is to decide is whether he’s going to be a part of its life and how,” Paige said.

  I pursed my lips together. Paige was right, too.

  “You two suck,” I said, dropping my head back against the couch. “You’re not helping me any in deciding what to do.”

  Paige capped the nail polish and placed it on the coffee table. She moved to sit beside me, tucking her leg beneath her. Silence bloomed between us, growing more awkward by the second.

  “All right, so which movie are we watching first—Step Brothers or Zombieland?” Lauren asked. She slid off the couch and started across the room.