Final Play (Fake Boyfriend 6) - Page 7
“Maybe it’s that you’re teenagers and he’s freaking out. Maybe he just needs time?”
“I don’t know, but something scared him off. If he was in college, then yeah, I could stay with the kid while he went to school. But he’s not. He dropped out of high school and is working a dead-end, minimum-wage job, and I want a proper future. There’s no way I can work to pay the bills, study, and look after a kid. I don’t want to be like our parents, but it’s hard when we can’t even get a start, you know?”
“I’m happy to take you to an adoption lawyer so you can work out your options, but before we do all that, are you sure this is what you want?”
In one conversation, I already know what Fern wants. It’s obvious. She wants her future, but she also already loves the child inside her so much.
I’m more than willing to give her the money for a lawyer, but I think it’ll be a waste of time.
She confirms my suspicions when she rubs a hand over her stomach. “I want everything. Is that so much to ask?”
I laugh. “No, it’s not. And I’m gonna give it to you.”
Chapter Four
NOAH
I probably should stay for their conversation, but I don’t want to let my headspace show. I’m not one hundred percent sure I could be in the same room as Fern without having a panic attack, and I doubt she’ll want to give her baby to a guy who’s breaking out in hives over the idea of being a dad.
Because I know that’s how this is going to end.
I wander around aimlessly before making my way across to Millennium Park and sit by the water even if it’s below freezing out here.
Googling family lawyers in Chicago and calling to make an appointment with one only makes it more real, but I do it anyway.
With an appointment booked for tomorrow and Matt leaving for practice soon, I should go back to the apartment and face this like an adult.
Instead, I sit in the cold with frost on the ground, the wind blowing, my face stinging, and I tell myself to suck it up. Maybe I should think about it in terms of if I were straight and some pregnant chick turned up saying it’s my baby.
That lasts about three minutes before I give up because it’s just not plausible enough to wrap my head around.
When that fails, I take out my phone again and Skype call Aron and Wyatt in New York. Out of everyone I know, they’re the ones to talk to about this.
The screen comes to life, and all I can see are the big chubby cheeks and pouty lips of baby Ryan.
“Yeah, yeah, your baby’s cute, but I need to talk to an adult.”
Aron pulls his phone back so I can see his face and baby Ryan normal-sized. Shit, not so much baby Ryan anymore. Toddler Ryan? Is there an in-between from baby to toddler? That’s what Ryan is.
Oh yeah, I could be a fucking parent. I don’t even know kid stages.
Aron and Wyatt went from friends to lovers to big happy family so ridiculously fast, but I can’t be happier for them. And even though they’ve been together as long as Matt and I have, it’s hard to remember a time where they weren’t together. I could swear they were together way back in college even though they weren’t. It’s as if they’ve always come as a package.
“Is that your motto in life?” Aron asks. “I need an actual adult, because I don’t think I’m equipped to deal with whatever life is throwing at me?”
I scowl. Aron laughs.
Wyatt’s blond head leans over Aron’s shoulder. “Hi, Noah. Bye, Noah. I gotta get to work.”
They give each other a peck on the lips, Wyatt kisses the top of Ryan’s head, and then he disappears from the screen again.
“So, what’s up?” Aron asks.
“How’s fatherhood?” My tone’s forced casualness goes unnoticed.
“Fucking tiring. Ryan’s teething, so he’s fussy all the time and whiny and clingy, and Wyatt gets home from work and riles him all up, and then it takes forever for him to get to sleep, and then—” He stops abruptly. “Wait. You never ask about Ryan or fatherhood. You say he’s cute and then change the subject whenever we bring him up.” He assesses me through the screen, but he’s not going to get anything from me. My eyes are probably bloodshot from the wind, and I’m keeping my face as neutral as possible. “Are you … Does Matt … Are you guys talking about kids? Is that the reason why you’re sitting on a park bench in the freezing cold?”
“How’d you know I was in a park? You can only see my face.”
“You look like you’re about to turn into a Popsicle. I guessed. So spill it.”
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