Baby Yours – Hunter & Lennon (Roommate Duet 2)

“You’re scared and in denial,” she says matter-of-factly, and I’m positive she believes her own lies. “I gave you enough time to process this, Hunter. It’s time to deal with it.”

“There’s nothing to deal with. You’re projecting the way you feel. Did you tell Craig like I told you?” I cross my arms over my chest, staring her down.

She steps closer and shakes her head. “No, because this baby is yours. I know it in my gut, and I can’t allow you to deny it anymore. It’s time to take responsibility for your actions and man up, Hunter.”

I glare at her, anger simmering through my blood like I’ve never felt before. “You want it to be the truth, but it doesn’t mean it is. You shouldn’t be here. I’ll take a paternity test when he’s born to prove it to you, but don’t you dare show up unannounced again.” I hand the food back to her, not trusting anything she’d give me at this point. It might be poisoned. “I’ve already eaten, so you should have this.”

“So that’s it? You’re just going to reject me again?” she hisses. “I know your little friend is pregnant, too. You’d rather take care of someone else’s baby than your own?” She spews fire, knowing it’ll get me worked up.

I narrow my eyes at her, shaking my head as I try to calm down.

“Yeah, I know all about her and your fake marriage, Hunter. It’s not even your baby.” Her words are venom, and I need to get out of here before I say or do something I’ll regret.

“Leave, Jenna. Now.”

“It’d be a shame if her pastor dad found out,” she says in a taunting voice that has me seeing red. My fists clench, and my jaw tightens. How the fuck does she know all this?

As if she can read my mind, she continues, “The internet is a great thing these days, Hunter. You might be able to trick two middle-aged people, but you’re not fooling me.”

I’m glad we took this outside even though I’m sure Tracie can hear every word Jenna spews. She’s not exactly quiet.

I turn on my heels, and I’m growing more frustrated.“Stay away from me, Jenna.” I enunciate every word.

“Do the right thing, Hunter Manning! This isn’t over!”

I walk into the building, leaving her outside yelling like a crazy person. Tracie gives me a sad look and scans me in but doesn’t say anything. I take the stairs two a time, pissed Jenna has the audacity to show up at my job like we’re dating. She’s not going to let this go, and I’m not sure what else to do at this point. Get a restraining order on her? If she does it again, I might have to.

The rest of the day, I’m overly annoyed with every person who speaks to me. I’m short and need to go work out to blow off some steam, but instead, I drive home, trying to forget what happened. When I walk into the apartment, everything is quiet except for the sound of Lennon’s beautiful voice. I go to her room and stand at the door, listening to her sing “Baby Mine” in the rocking chair with her eyes closed and her hands over her stomach. For a moment, I watch and listen to her, and it calms me in a way she wouldn’t understand. The late-evening sun shines through, casting a warm glow throughout the room, and I find myself smiling, soaking in her natural beauty. I glance around, looking at how the room’s been transformed into a makeshift nursery. The crib and swing I helped build last month fit perfectly in the space.

To get Lennon’s attention, I clear my throat, and her eyes pop open. “How long have you been there?”

“Not long,” I lie. “Hungry?”

She nods, standing, and I realize how much her belly has really grown. It seems as if she started showing overnight, though it’s been gradual. She glances at me, and she’s glowing. Becoming a mom has come so natural to her, and there’s no doubt she’ll love that baby with every ounce of her body. Hell, she already does and so do I.

“I’ve been wanting pizza all day long with extra, extra, extra, extra cheese.”

I burst out laughing. “Damn girl.” Lennon’s cravings this last trimester have been random but usually anything greasy.

She narrows her eyes at me, and before she can even throw sass my way, I continue, “Whatever you say. I just hope they add some sauce and crust with your cheese.” I open the app and order a pizza real quick with four times cheese like Lennon requested. One thing I’ve learned over the past few months is not to argue with a pregnant woman over food. It’s a losing battle.

As we’re waiting for the delivery, I help Lennon hang and fold more baby clothes. This has become one of our traditions, spending our time getting the apartment ready for baby girl. The church ladies have sent so much that I’ve told Lennon she can use my room for storage if needed. Though we’ve been putting up clothes all week, there are still boxes full of onesies and dresses. I’m pretty sure Lennon won’t have to buy clothes until the kid is sixteen.