As a single mom in a small town, there's only one thing I want. Another baby. When all the roads to getting what I want lead to dead ends, I turn to one of my best friends for help.
In my mind, Trent Castillo is the perfect baby daddy. He has good g...
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It's been six weeks since I suggested Trent father my baby, and five weeks since I kissed Trent at the nightclub, and exactly zero minutes since I felt like I had my life together.
I sit outside Maggie's pharmacy in my car, contemplating all the ways in which I'm fucking up my life.
The vibe between me and Trent still isn't back to normal, and I don't know if it's because of the baby thing, the kiss thing, or the fact I've been dating the dentist for almost a month, and we've done little more than kiss. In fact, I've purposely arranged all our dates to be in public locations and to have a limited timeframe.
I have blatantly used my son to keep Michael at arm's length.
But the real problem isn't Michael or the fact I'm a mom, or even Trent. It's me. I'm the problem. Because even though I said I'd never take Trent seriously, that I'd never get in over my head with him, that I wouldn't become Lila, I can't stop thinking about that kiss. The few times Michael has kissed me, I've compared it to how I felt with Trent—which is all kinds of wrong. So, so wrong.
Whenever I close my eyes, Trent's lips are brushing against my earlobe, calling me fuckable, talking about putting a baby inside me. Just thinking about it is enough to get me wet. It sounds like he meant it, which is what's really screwing me up. His comments weren't fun and flirty—they were possessive, and god help me, I liked it.
It's not as though we haven't seen each other either. He's come over a few times to grab Amir and take him somewhere—to the shop to "work" on cars to the hardware store or sometimes over to Maggie and Grady's to hang out. But Trent's been very careful not to spend any alone time with me, and I haven't invited him in either, suggested he spend the day with me and Amir. We aren't yet back to normal, and I miss it, ache for our old friendship like a phantom limb.
I can't move forward with Michael until I know my feelings for Trent—sexual or otherwise—are in the rearview mirror. It's not fair to Michael to go full throttle into anything when I'm thinking about someone else so much.
In some ways, it's a relief that I'm even capable of thinking about anyone else at all. For the longest time, I thought I was doomed to pine after Omar. While what I feel for Trent isn't on the same scale as what I felt for Omar—this seems like extreme lust—I am a little happy that I can feel something.
If there's a positive anywhere, that's it. I'm not sexually dead.
Thankfully, when I haul myself out of the car and into Maggie's pharmacy, she doesn't have many customers. While she deals with the few people in the store, I browse the shelves, checking expiry dates.
"I have people who do that," Maggie says, her tone wry from the counter as the bells jingle on the door with Mrs. Freeman leaving.
"I like to keep busy," I say.
"I've heard you've been keeping so busy you've barely seen our dentist friend, Michael in the last week."
