Chapter 14
Chase
S he's still here with me. We came to my house together last night and climbed into bed. She's wearing my shirt and a pair of my boxer briefs, and I told her she could bring a few things over if she would stay over more often. She didn't comment or immediately say she'd bring over her tampons and toothpaste, but she didn't run out. She didn't call an Uber. She didn't sneak out from under my arm in the middle of the night. I know because I stayed awake to make sure. We didn't have sex because she was too tired, and I was a bit more inebriated than I should have been, but I held her all night.
She stirs in my arms, and I pull her close to my chest. "Good morning," I whisper into her hair.
She makes an indiscernible sound that sounds like her telling me to go fuck myself, but I'll take any sound she gives me in the morning. Eventually, she must realize where she is, and she reaches back, patting my curls and running her hand down the sandpaper of my morning face.
"Chase?"
"I really hope you're just confirming it's me and not wondering which of your many men is with you."
She laughs, and I'm surprised when she snuggles back into me. Thankfully, she doesn't wiggle her ass or grind against me. A quick look at my alarm clock confirms we'd both be late for work if we linger in bed.
"I don't want this to ever change between us," I whisper, placing small kisses all over her shoulder and neck. "I want you like this. Just us."
She stills for a moment. "Did I say something wrong?" I ask.
She shakes her head. "No, Chase. I like this."
"If I'm rushing you, I'll back off. I just…I'm not seeing anyone else. I don't want to date other women. I'm not saying we'll get married, but I want to see where this goes. I didn't mean to scare you."
She waves her hands in front of her face and gives an awkward smile as she sits up and turns to look at me. "It's fine, Chase. Good."
It doesn't feel good, though. It kind of feels like I stepped in dog shit, and I have no idea why. All I did was tell her I just wanted it to be the two of us .
She huffs in annoyance with what I hope is just the dread of starting her day and swings her legs over the side of the bed. I run my hand up her back once, just to touch her, and marvel at how hot she looks in my borrowed underpants and shirt.
No touch back. She doesn't grab my hand or turn to give me a kiss on the cheek. Nothing.
"We better get going," she mumbles, stumbling her way to my bathroom. She wipes her eyes like she's utterly exhausted, which I don't understand. She had a few hours of sleep. Is she one of those people who get crabby if they don't get ten hours?
***
I'm irritated after five minutes in this place. Some jack nuts drank all the flavored coffee in the coffee pod carousel, and I'm left with light roast. A man can't effectively protect an entire school on light roast. What's next? Decaf? It probably wasn't Leo, but I blame Leo.
It's also bothering me how Kailee acted this morning. I asked in the car if she was OK, and she said she was just tired and groggy with a headache. I didn't see her drink last night, but maybe she had a couple beers when I wasn't looking.
I should take her something. Something she'll appreciate. Something to make her eyes light up.
I'll go get some Jell-O .
I can't get to the store until after my lunch hour and walk through, and when I finally do get to the store at the end of fifth hour, only blue raspberry is left. Maybe she'll like it. Either way, it's what I have.
I knock on the door to her room. I've come in before, and I know that the students mostly work in groups at this point in class. Sauntering in like I own the place, I stop dead when I find Leo Paulson sitting behind the teacher's desk with a scowl on his face.
"What are you doing in here?" he asks in a gruff voice.
"I could ask you the same question," I say, matching his tone.
My words are like a needle scratch on a record. The entire class stops whatever they're doing to stare at me. Electric mixers click off. Knives stop cutting. A few girls inhale deeply, obviously anticipating either Leo or I to pull out swords and fight to the death for Ms. Lipshitz.
Too bad my good sword is in my other pants.
Leo gets out of the chair and crosses the room in four quick strides. He pulls my arm, and I shake him off before he gestures to the corner. Reluctantly, I walk with him. I guess he just wants to tell me why he's in here.
"It's my plan time, so Kailee sent a student over to get me to cover her class," Leo explains, his eyes on my chest. I detect the slightest pectoral flex from him like he's trying to show me he lifts.
"Is she sick? "
He shrugs. "The girl she sent told me she thinks Kailee got her period or something. There were some dots on the back of her pants."
I let out a sigh of relief. She's probably just in the nurse's office getting a tampon and some suitable pants or something. She'll be back in a bit.
"What's in the bag?" Leo asks, nodding toward the plastic grocery bag.
"None of your fucking business," I say a little too loudly, pulling the bag away from him. Thankfully, high school seniors don't even register the word as outside the realm of normal conversation.
"Leave it here for her. I'll make sure she gets it."
I squint at Leo. "Hell no. You'll take credit for it."
"I will not. You're being a baby."
I sneer at him and walk from the room, careful not to slam the door behind me. From outside, I can barely make out Leo throwing his hands up and stomping to the teacher's desk, ignoring a young lady with her hand up as he passes.
I'll go to the nurse's office and make sure she's fine. If she's embarrassed or something about her period, she can tell me to leave. No big deal. But at least I can make sure she gets the Jell-O. I'm not leaving it on her desk where Leo can swipe it into the trash can or take credit for it.
I walk to the nurse's office and tap on the door frame when I enter the room. Kailee is sitting on the exam table with swollen eyes, and the school nurse, Becky, is pulling out the exam table so Kailee can put her feet up.
"Kailee?" I ask, moving further into the room but taking baby steps. "Are you OK? Leo said you came down here for your period or something."
Becky turns and looks between us before looking back at Kailee.
"Why are you crying?" I ask. Why aren't they answering me? "Do you have cramps?" I look at Becky. "Give her some painkiller or something."
"Do you want some ibuprofen?" Becky asks like she's never thought about giving a grown adult in the office for their period actual medicine before. She digs through a drawer in the exam table and holds out a travel pack of something.
Kailee's eyes don't leave mine, and there's something in them…something I don't recognize.
She holds her hand up and gently pushes the offered medicine away. She nods slightly like she's resigning herself to something – like she's stepping up to the plate.
"It's not my period, Chase. I'm eleven weeks pregnant and spotting."
I tilt my head and look at her, trying to understand the words that just came out of her mouth. My brain sputters like an old car with a dying battery sputtering to life while Becky prattles about resting, putting her feet up, and making an appointment with a doctor .
A doctor? Why does Kailee need a doctor?
What does the word pregnant mean?
Pregnant…pregnant…That means a baby is inside of my girlfriend, right? Eleven weeks? Is that a long time? Is that months, years, or days? I've lost the entire concept of time as the world tilts on its axis. Somehow, my body knows something I'm missing because my limbs tense. My toes curl. My balls scrunch up inside my body like I'm naked in a snowstorm.
My mind spins as I connect the dots… slow dots.
Saltines.
Nausea.
Cravings.
Exhaustion.
The feeling she harbors a big secret she wants to tell but can't.
Her breasts looking mighty scrumptious, fit for any baby or man to nurse from.
Dear God, I'm the dumbest mother fucker alive.
Who's the father? Wait. We had sex in the workroom a week ago, so that doesn't equal eleven weeks. Her date with Leo wasn't that long ago. That can't be eleven weeks either.
I drop the bag in my hand and brace one hand against the wall, ticking off weeks on my other hand's fingers as I wrack my brain. It's been about three months, give or take, since we met. I don't know for sure. I can't think. I can't count.
Once I finally get back to the realm of time we met on my fingers, I can't breathe .
A familiar feeling I've only felt a few times before moves through my body. The last time I felt it was when I had to kill a drug dealer and bring Liam back from the brink of death. It's terror. Unadulterated fear. My vision tunnels, and I'm glad I'm in a nurse's office in case I go down. My heart pounds so hard that I can't hear anything but the buzz of my pulse.
This can't be happening, but I have to do something. Say something.
Somewhere across space and time, Becky wets a washcloth for the back of Kailee's neck and fills up a cup of water. Seconds tick by as Kailee stares at me, her bottom lip trembling. She looks like a child in the nurse's office for a skinned knee. So vulnerable. So innocent.
She needs me. How long has she known and been dealing with this?
I open my mouth to talk, to tell her we'll get through it, but words don't come out. I squeeze the door because my knees buckle under me, and this flimsy taxpayer-purchased wood is the only thing keeping me upright.
Becky says something about the baseball playoffs and wearing red to support St. Louis next Friday, but I don't care. I don't know if I'll ever care about anything mundane again. Kailee sure doesn't care about baseball because a tear trickles out of her eye, and she doesn't stop staring at me. She waits in silence for me to say something as Becky prattles on, completely oblivious to something else happening in the room .
That something else is my life imploding and Kailee pleading with her eyes that I do something to acknowledge it.
"I can't handle this," I whisper before I sprint from the room on shaky knees, holding on to the wall in the hallway for balance until I push open the double doors to the parking lot and let fresh air fill my lungs.