Mama? Jesus, there’s a first time for everything.
I try to look past his shoulders, but he is quite tall.
“Who does she belong to?” he yells back into the room.
He moves his body, and I can see directly into the dim room. Marcus is lying on the sofa with some random chick straddling him. As I scan the room for Haden, a godawful stench invades my lungs, causing me to cough and heave. It’s like a trip down memory lane, or should I say college lane more like it.
It smells like weed.
This can’t be good for the baby, so to make this quick, I search again and find Haden sitting against the wall. He spots me, and with a crooked smile, he raises his head to greet me.
“Can I please speak to you out here in the hall?”
I walk out of the apartment but not before Marcus jumps up and pushes the girl off him. “Presley, baby, I still love you.” His pathetic attempt at speaking to me deserves no response.
Haden stumbles out of the room, and I realize this isn’t the best time, but stupid me asks anyway.
“Why didn’t you tell me Mr. Sadler’s your stepdad?” Annoyed and keeping my distance, I stand against the wall.
“You know what?” He points his index finger at me. “You’re beautiful.”
It’s followed by a delirious laugh, and I throw my hands up in the air, frustrated that I am wasting my time. I turn away and walk toward the stairwell, and just when I think I’ve escaped, he grips my shoulder and swiftly turns me around.
His eyes are wild, seriously dark, and the laughter he showcased only moments ago has disappeared. My eyes are drawn to his stained shirt and ripped jeans. It’s very unlike him to be so unkempt, especially with a rugged beard and scruffy hair.
“Why don’t you answer me when I tell you, you’re beautiful?” he grits, pinning me closer to the wall.
“Because you’re a jerk who’s clearly stoned right now.”
“It’s not an answer,” he raises his voice.
Startled, but refusing to show it, I bite back, “Fine. Thank you. Now let me go.”
His hands trail across my collarbone and directly down my chest, and I don’t stop him, only because I’m gearing up to kick him in the nuts if my Kitty can stop drooling long enough.
“Why do you make life so
hard for me? What is it about you, Malone?” He refuses to look me in the eye, talking to himself rather than to me. “If only I hadn’t gone to London…”
“Haden, I need to go. This is pointless.”
“Where are you going? Let me come with you,” he pleads.
Underneath his strong and arrogant persona lies desperation and turmoil. I can’t tell whether he has a hidden agenda or just needs a friend right now. Then I remember that men don’t like to talk, so I’m guessing the hidden agenda may be sex for all the wrong reasons.
I stand tall and lean forward to kiss him on the cheek, a gesture of goodwill before walking away, but he swiftly locks his lips onto mine.
He forces his tongue into my mouth, but the intensity and longing are torn away as my protective instinct for the baby fogs any passion toward him.
Pushing him back, I catch some air before telling him no. “We can’t do that, and you’ve been smoking. That can’t be good for my baby.”
He smashes his fist against the wall, screaming in agony, “Our! Why won’t you fucking get it through your head that it’s our baby?”
“Because you haven’t stepped up and proven to me you’re responsible. If you can turn up on Monday morning without being stoned or acting like a jerk, maybe then I can take you seriously.”
I push him out of the way and walk down the stairs, praying he won’t follow.
He doesn’t.