Ghosts (A Christian Yelich Story)

Chapter Ninety-Three: Tacos

If you're looking for another good Christian story to read, check out Apple Juice by my friend yelichwests. It's super cute and well-written. ❤️😊🌈

Also check out my other stories. 👌🏻

***

"I'm nervous," I informed Hannah, as Hannah drove me to LAX. In six hours, I'd essentially be starting my life with Christian Yelich, the last type of person I ever expected to fall in love with . . . He was so athletic and down-to-Earth, straightforward and humble. I always fell for lazy, pretentious intellectuals or sad, self-deprecating artists. But here I was, only three away months from having Christian's baby. Was I ready for this?

"Why are you nervous?" Hannah asked.

"So many reasons. I know I'm not his type, so what if he gets bored of me? What if I get bored of him? What if I'm a horrible mother?"

Hannah stopped me. "Annie, you just have to go with this. He loves you. You love him. Enjoy it. You'll be great parents."

Those weren't my only anxieties. I left a lot of ghosts in Milwaukee, and I was afraid I'd have to confront them. I didn't want to.

***

When I landed in Milwaukee around 11:00 pm, I rented a car and drove to Christian's apartment in the Third Ward. I was starving, but I resisted the urge to stop for fast food. I hoped Christian would have some healthier options available, although last time I was at his place pickings were slim. If I could have made it in before 10:00, I would have stopped at the grocery store and restocked his fridge and cabinets.

When I opened his apartment door, I was greeted by the smell of cumin. "Christian?" I called out.

"In the kitchen, babe!" his cheerful voice responded.

I left my luggage near the door and met him in the kitchen. He was at the stove hovering over a frying pan. He looked back with a determined look on his face and then smiled when he made eye contact with me. "Tacos," he explained.

"You're cooking! You told me you can't cook."

He shrugged. "I wanted to give it a try for you. I figured it'd be good practice, so I can feed Eloise when you're not around."

I stood next to him. "I can help," I offered.

"Absolutely not. Take a seat. They'll be ready soon."

He took a break from stirring to kiss me tenderly. I cheekily gave his butt a squeeze, which caused him to chuckle, before finding a seat where I could watch him attempt to cook.

I sat at a barstool and noticed the fresh flowers on the countertop. "These flowers are beautiful," I commented.

"I put some in every room for you. Thought they might make you feel more at home."

I started to cry at his thoughtfulness. I had been even more emotional than usual lately. Just about anything could make me tear up, so I was guaranteed to sob when my boyfriend put this much effort into us. "Thank you," I said through my tears.

"Baby, are you crying?" he asked, his tone flooded with worry. He stopped what he was doing and walked over to me.

"No, no. Please don't worry about me. I want nothing more than to try your delicious, non-burnt tacos. It's just hormones."

He kissed the top of my head. "Okay, but if anything is really wrong, you have to tell me."

He went back to the stove and finished cooking. He eventually brought me a plate with three pineapple chicken tacos topped with cilantro. They looked beautiful on the plate with a side of rice. "Oh my God, Christian," I muttered before starting to cry again.

"I feel bad about how I treat you if just making you and baby some tacos can make you cry," he said softly.

"No, no, no, you're just making me feel so important."

"You two are the most important, Annie." He kissed my forehead and my tear-stained cheeks before preparing his own plate and taking a seat next to me.

"Thank you. You just keep surprising me every day."

***

Christian wasn't lying when he said there were flowers in every room. There was even a huge bouquet on the bathroom sink. I giggled looking at the roses and daisies as I brushed my teeth.

Christian joined me a few seconds later. He stood behind me and wrapped his arms around my stomach. He kissed my neck before pulling my shirt up and touching my tummy with his warm, large hands. He was examining us in the mirror as he caressed my skin. "You're so goddamn beautiful," he whispered into my ear.

I finished up brushing my teeth before responding. "I wish I felt that way."

"Let me show you," he suggested. His hands roamed my body more freely now. He began to massage my breasts through my tank top, and I couldn't stop myself from moaning a little.

"Christian, I can't. Unfortunately."

"I'll be so gentle," he whispered.

"It's not that. I just feel very heavy and tired all the time."

Christian sighed. "I understand, but I can't imagine not fucking you until October."

I smirked at him, and he read my expression in the mirror. "We can do other things," I offered, my voice low and raspy.

"Oh, yeah, like what? Be specific, baby." His hands began cupping my breasts again, and I could feel his hardness against my backside.

"Let me show you," I continued, as I turned around and dropped to my knees in front of him. "This is just a preview of what's in store for you," I whispered as I pulled his boxers down his legs and freed his member from the confines of the restrictive fabric.

"Plesse, Ann—," he started, but I shut him up quickly by engulfing his cock with my mouth.

When I finished him off and swallowed his load, I watched him quiver a little as I stood up and faced him. "I think you're going to be okay, baby," I joked.

"Fuck, baby," was all he could manage to say, still confounded by his intense release.