Only One Mistake (Only One 6)

“Nice try. Everyone knows that she owns me,” he says, unlocking his car doors. “So joke’s on you.”

“Whatever,” I mumble. Getting into my own vehicle, I start the truck. I think about going home first and dumping off my shit, but my head has other plans. I stop at the flower shop and grab all the roses she has in the shop. The bouquet in my hand is massive and heavy. I then stop off at the bakery I know she likes and grab a box of her favorites, and when I pull up in front of her building, I park in the same spot it seems I always find. Holding the flowers and the box in one hand, I walk up the pathway and pull open the front glass door, looking around and still hating there is no security.

I jog up the steps, and my heart beats just a touch faster when I get closer and closer to her door. I knock once, and my palms get all sweaty. I have to laugh at myself for being so nervous to see her. “Coming.” I can hear her voice, and the smile comes again without a second thought. The sound of her footsteps are coming closer and closer to the door.

The click of the lock flips, and the door swings open. Her eyes go wide when she sees me standing here. When I spoke to her last night before the game, I told her we would be arriving later in the afternoon, so she wasn’t expecting me until tonight. “Oh my gosh.” Her voice pitches, and her face goes into a full-blown smile, making her eyes light up bright. Neither of us takes the first step as we just look at each other. It’s a weird thing, having all this courage through a phone to say what we feel and want and then being in front of the other person, not sure what to say or how to act. “You’re home,” she finally says after a couple of seconds. Her hand still on the doorknob, she looks so fucking beautiful with her hair piled on top of her head. I can tell that she just got out of the shower because the bottom hairs on her neck are still a little wet. Her face is free of any and all makeup, not that she wears much or that she needs it. She’s wearing a short-sleeved dress, and her little bump seems bigger.

“We just landed,” I say and then step into her, suddenly wanting to drop all this shit on the floor and just grab her face. “I thought maybe I would bring you flowers myself.” I walk into the house and put the flowers on the counter next to the box. Looking around quickly, I see that there are five vases scattered around the room of the flowers I sent her when I was away. “I also brought you some pastries.” She closes the front door, not saying anything, and I’m suddenly worried that maybe I did the wrong thing. Maybe I should have just gone home and then come over afterward. “I should have called,” I say softly, “instead of just showing up.” I wonder how fast I can get out of here without looking like an idiot. I mean, more of an idiot. “I’m really sorry for just showing up here.” The pit of my stomach burns.

She walks to me, and I literally hold my breath, not sure what the fuck is going to happen. My eyes roam her face to see if maybe I misread the whole situation. Maybe she just wants me by her side for the baby. Maybe she got to know me, and she’s over me. The maybes come barreling to me, but then just as fast as the pit in my stomach got there, it slowly goes away when I see the smile on her face never leaves, and her eyes light up.

“I’m really, really happy to see you.” Walking, she stands in front of me, my heart beating faster and faster for a whole different reason. She puts her hands on my hips, then her eyes go down as she shyly admits the next part. “Really happy.” My hands come up to cup her cheeks in them, then I move her face to the left as my lips find hers. The minute my tongue slips into her mouth, we both sigh. Her tongue fights with mine, and I thought I remembered what it was like to kiss her. I thought I knew what to expect, but I was wrong. It is just so much better. The burning in my stomach goes away. The tightness in my chest eases up just a bit, and I can finally breathe.

Her hands move from my hips to my back, and when she pulls me to her, I feel her stomach. I let go of her face, and we just look at each other. The lust and need is in both of our eyes. I put my hand on her stomach. “Hi,” I whisper to my child, my hand rubbing her stomach and looking back up at her. “Hi,” I repeat and see that her nipples are perky.