OUR FIGHT

7 • baby bear

* 4 months after "the right moment" *

- SAXON'S POINT OF VIEW -

• • •  • • •

"Hey, you've reached Aaliyah Logan. Leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Have a good day!"

"Hey, baby girl, I just realized I forgot to call you once I got off the plane... Sorry about that. But I'm about ten minutes away from the house, so prepare to be attacked with kisses once I get there. I love you."

I end the voicemail before carelessly flicking my phone into the passenger seat.

I'm returning home from a three-day business trip in Los Angelos. Considering my fiancée is two short weeks away from popping out a child, I was hesitant to go. I didn't like the idea of leaving her side when she's nearing the end of her pregnancy. 

I was more hurt than surprised when Aaliyah practically shoved me onto the plane herself. She won't tell me directly, but I think that was her "subtle" way of telling me that she needs some time away from me. I get it. I've been glued to her side ever since she entered her third trimester, worried out of my mind that she would hurt herself or Bear. My clinginess has probably been wearing her out.

Whatever. I'm glad I went on the trip. I'm trying to get as much work done as possible before Bear arrives so I can take more time off to be with my family. 

Now three days isn't a long time to be away from someone, but it sure as hell didn't feel that way. My work kept me so fucking busy that we weren't able to FaceTime even once. Yeah, we talked on the phone a couple of times, but I haven't actually seen my girl's fucking face in three days. It's made me a little anxious.

My fingers twitch as they yearn to caress something other than the steering wheel. Something much softer. 

More delicious, too. 

My mouth curls up devilishly.

I can only roll my eyes at myself as my heart has a fucking spasm when my car swivels onto our street. As if I wasn't already whipped before, now she's got me salivating at the mere thought of seeing her in person.

My eagerness shifts to confusion when the further I drive down our street, the more parked cars appear on both sides of the road.

"The fuck?" I mumble.

Since our nearest neighbor is ten minutes away, there's absolutely no reason for all of these cars to be here. I find myself pressing on the accelerator a little harder, desperate for answers.

Just as my secluded house emerges from the trees, the floor of my car begins to vibrate to a beat. 

You've got to be fucking kidding me. 

My anger rises with each car that I pass, and although I already have an idea of what the fuck's happening, the confirmation sets me off. 

I'm forced to pull over to the side of the road since there's no room for me to park in my own fucking driveway. I glare at my home as the walls struggle to contain the turbulence of the blaring music. A crowd of strangers lounge in the yard, either passed out or shouting, while shadows of mysterious figures linger in the windows. 

"He's a dead man," I grumble. 

With a snarl, I rip my seatbelt off and storm out of the car. The scent of alcohol becomes apparent as I approach the driveway.