Dirty Curve

Slowly, the knee on the back seat extends, her left foot planting back on the ground with her right and she comes out of the car, a ball of blanket in her hands.

Her eyes flick to mine and she steps from under the carport, back into the light.

A small cry fills the air, but then Meyer begins to bounce her arms, and the soft sound fades away.

Not a ball of blanket, a baby.

“You should go.” Meyer nods, turning toward what must be her apartment, but she pauses, cautiously facing me once more when my feet shuffle a little closer.

Meyer keeps her straining eyes on mine as I approach and they stay there when I reach her, but mine fall to the fluffy white blanket.

I peek through the small opening near her chest to find a teeny, tiny little thing. A baby girl, if the pink pacifier tucked into her mouth tells me anything.

The little one’s eyes are closed and the blanket’s pulled tight, so I can’t see much else, so I step back, looking to her mama.

“I’ll see you Sunday?”

She stares a long moment, sort of frozen and unsure, but then she gives a small nod.

So, I turn, walk back to my truck, and as I climb inside, it all clicks.

This is why Meyer runs on fumes most of the time. She’s not out partying or doing whatever the fuck it is most of us here do. The girl’s out working herself to death with assholes like me all afternoon, and at the burger joint into the night. When she’s not, she’s got her own classes to manage and taking care of a baby.

Her baby.

Trip. The fuck. Out.

I don’t know how the hell a college student can have a baby and still get shit done. Hell, I don’t know how anyone can get shit done with a kid, but she seems to do it like a boss.

She’s structured, organized, and on top of her tutor game.

It’s no wonder she tries to keep her mornings for herself.

Here I am, the dick who basically threatened her into adding me anytime I’ve needed her to by using my tightknit relationship with her boss. I realize now that shit worked too well.

She never complains, is always available for me, and goes out of her way to be where I need her to. I’ve taken her mornings, afternoons, and nights. Weekdays and weekends and even others’ study times when necessary. I know because I’ve seen her calendar book lying open before, scratches through other last names and mine scribbled in below or beside it.

Honestly, I’m with her more than I need to be because I fucking like to be.

I want to be.

But she’s with me out of obligation.

In my driveway, I pull my phone from the cup holder and bring up her name. I type out a text canceling the Sunday session I just confirmed, but before I can hit send, I remember what my coach told me.

She makes more when she works with me, so maybe if I fall behind again, just by a little, I can get more hours with her. Maybe then she can breathe a bit easier, take fewer shifts at her second job, and have more time at home with her baby.

I delete the text and send a new one.

And then I stare at my phone, an unexpected anxiousness in my gut as I wait for her response.

CHAPTER 15

Meyer

The baby monitor beeps at my side, letting me know Bailey’s beginning to stir, ready for her early morning feeding. I sit up, wiping the sleep from my eyes and tap on my screen to check the time.

My ribs constrict instantly, the text notification that came through not ten minutes after Tobias pulled away last night still sitting on my screen.

I knew when it beeped it would be him, since the only other person who would call me that late was still here when it came through, and sure enough, a half hour later when I dared to peek, it was his name I found.

I didn’t open it.

I don’t know if it made me more anxious or afraid, but either way, his message sits waiting.

And it’s going to have to wait a little longer.

Climbing from bed, I step into Bailey’s room right as her soft little cry comes.

“Come here, baby girl,” I whisper, lifting her into my arms, grabbing her Binky and blanket and bringing it with me.

She fusses as I prop my arm pillow up against the back cushion of the couch bed and sit. Tucking my comforter high in my lap, I lower Bailey and begin feeding her.

Her eyes come up to mine and I smile down at her, brushing my fingertips over the little bit of dark hair she has.

“Hi, Bae, are you looking at mama?” I run my finger down her nose, and her little hand wobbles up, so I give her mine.