The Randy Romance Novelist

  “Because, he’s not that kind of guy, and he loves Rosie.”

  “He did it the first time they had sex.”

  “Because she talked about going on a date with a guy when the condom they used was still warm.” Derk pointed at me.

  Guilt washed through me.

  “He’s got you there,” Delaney brought the cup up to her mouth and turned back toward me.

  “Why do you think he’s ill?” Derk asked, steering the conversation away from insanity.

  “It’s the only explanation I can come up with as to why he doesn’t want to be with me, but is still sweet.”

  Derk sat down next to Delaney and shared her coffee, one hand on her thigh. “Did he actually say he didn’t want to be with you? That he didn’t want to be your boyfriend?”

  “Not that kind of be with me. I mean in the sexual way. He refused to put his hand down my pants.”

  “Maybe because you talked about how your vagina was purple for so long; shit like that is not appealing to men,” Delaney added. “Purple is too close to the color blue, and I think we all know what a blue waffle is . . .”

  Everyone ignored Delaney’s comment. It was too early to get into blue waffle talk.

  “Has he talked to you?” I asked Derk, whose eyes immediately grew wide.

  Bingo!

  “He has talked to you.” I pointed at Derk, who was trying to hide his face. Delaney clued in and forced him to look at me.

  “What are you not telling her? Speak, my human sex toy, or you can kiss any sex we might have leading up to the wedding good bye.”

  “I just know he was concerned about you, that’s all.”

  “Concerned about me? Why? Because he’s going to go back with Tasha and he doesn’t want to hurt my feelings?” I was ninety-five percent sure that wasn’t true, but I wanted to press Derk’s buttons.

  “For fuck’s sake, drop the Tasha thing. Nothing is going on between them and nothing ever will happen between them.”

  “Then tell me what he said,” I demanded, pounding my fist on the table.

  “Tell her, Derk,” Delaney threatened.

  The tension in the room grew thick as Derk looked between us, gathering his thoughts. Two she-beasts were staring him down, waiting, we weren’t about to let up now.

  The attempt to get up from his chair was made, but Delaney stopped him and gripped his balls. Derk squealed and started to sweat.

  “You tell us right now what he said to you.”

  Derk moved very carefully and said, “He was concerned about you. He said you were acting really weird lately, kind of hormonal . . . kind of like you were . . .”

  “He knows?!” I shouted, stunned that Henry would pick up on me being pregnant and I wouldn’t, even though it was my body in question.

  “Knows what?” Delaney looked between Derk and me for answers. “Have you not told me something I should know? What’s going on?”

  I glanced up at Derk, who had a sympathetic look in his eyes. “Henry knows?” I asked again.

  “Is it true?”

  “Is what true?” Delaney asked again, frustration ringing clearly. “I swear to all the penises I devoured last night that if someone doesn’t tell me what’s going on right now, I will regurgitate them right here on this table, and I can promise you won’t like it.”

  “That is revolting.”

  “Well then, tell me what is going on.”

  Derk nodded at me for encouragement. I took a deep breath and said, “I’m pregnant.”

  “What?!” Delaney screamed, forgetting all about the atrocious hangover she was nursing. “You’re pregnant? On purpose?”

  “No. Why would I be pregnant on purpose?”

  “Well who’s dumb enough to get accidently pregnant these days? There are millions of forms of birth control. You’re on the pill, right?” I shook my head. “Jesus, Rosie. How could you not be on the pill? Were you just using condoms?” I confirmed, causing her to throw her hands up in the air. “And you thought, with the amount of times Henry was stuffing his junk in your doughnut that you weren’t going to get pregnant, because you were using a condom? My God, you are stupid. I love you, but you are stupid.”

  I waved a hand in front of my face as tears started to form. This was all too much to handle, and I didn’t expect a sex education lecture from my best friend when I told her I was with child. I thought maybe she would celebrate . . . well not celebrate, but at least give me a hug.

  “Babe, maybe chill a bit. Clearly, it’s big news for Rosie to handle.”

  Ignoring him, Delaney asked, “How far along are you? Is that why your clothes haven’t been fitting? You didn’t need to go to the gym, you needed to learn how to take a simple pill once a day. Tell me, how far along?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered, on the verge of tears. “But I’m guessing probably three months.”

  “Three months!” both Derk and Delaney said together.

  I nodded, stood up, and lifted my shirt so they could see my protruding stomach.

  Delaney’s hand flew to her mouth as silence fell over the dining room table. Slowly, Delaney made her way around the table to me. She looked down at my stomach and then lowered her hands so they were pressed against my belly.

  Once she finally looked up at me, she had tears in her eyes. “Oh, my God, Rosie. You’re pregnant.”

  Before I could answer, she pulled me in for a hug and wrapped her arms around my back. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

  “Maybe you’re pregnant too,” I laugh-cried.

  “No,” she shook her head against mine. “I use birth control like every other normal sex-crazed woman. It’s common sense.”

  “Now’s not the time for a lecture.”

  “When the baby is born, we will go over proper protocol for avoiding having another.”

  “Sounds good.”

  She distanced herself and looked back down at my belly. “You’re straight up pregnant. Look at that little gut of yours.”

  I wiped my tears. “I’m that person who shows up at the hospital, complaining about stomach cramps, and come to find out, I’m ready to give birth.”

  “Yup, that’s you,” Delaney and Derk laughed. “Jesus, Rosie. Don’t you keep track of your period?”

  “I don’t want to talk about this,” Derk held up his hands. “I’m going to hit the showers.”

  “Wait,” I turned to Derk. “Henry knows?”

  “He suspects,” Derk nodded his head. “If I were you, I would go have a conversation with him. Communication is key in a relationship.”

  “Okay,” Delaney scoffed. “This coming from the guy who can’t even talk about an ingrown hair near his nut sac.”

  “That’s private,” Derk shouted.

  “Whatever.” Delaney picked up her phone and started dialing.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m making you an appointment to see your doctor; we need to get an ultrasound going and figure this all out. First things first, that’s baby health.”

  I couldn’t argue with her . . . she was right.

  “But before we go anywhere, we both need to take showers because we smell like dead carcasses. Like, honestly, how can one person smell like sour milk so badly?” Delaney waved her hand in front of her nose and stood downwind of me. I sniffed myself and didn’t pick up any sour milk smell.

  “Hello, do you have any cancellations for today? My friend just found out she’s pregnant . . . she’s probably three months along and hasn’t seen a doctor.” Delaney paused for a second and then laughed. “I know. She could totally be on that show.”

  I rolled my eyes and went back to the couch, where I sat down and picked up my phone. I stared at the text messages that had come from Henry, and I wondered what I should do. He knew I was pregnant, but he was still pushing me away. What did that mean?

  Derk was right when it came to communication, but I was also nervous to hear what Henry wanted to actually communicate to me. Was he not r
eady to be a dad?

  Text message after text message passed through my phone. I scrolled through all of them, questioning whether Henry and I were going to be able to make it, or if this was the beginning of the end for us.

  ***

  “One forty-two,” the nurse said out loud after I got off the scale. “One-pound gain.”

  “Thank you,” I said tersely, wanting to smack the grin off her face. I snatched my purse from Delaney and followed the nurse into the same exam room I had stormed out of only a few days ago.

  “Miss Bloom, please go ahead and change behind the partition. There is a robe in the back.”

  “I brought mine from the last appointment,” I said, pulling the robe I walked down the streets of New York City in. “Reduce, reuse, recycle . . . right?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” The nurse gave me a very judgmental once-over and then left the room.

  Once the door was shut, Delaney gave me a disgusted look. “Well, she’s kind of a bitch.”

  “Kind of? She’s been judging me since the minute I stepped on that damn scale. She wouldn’t take my word for how much I weighed.”

  “What did you tell her you weighed?”

  “That’s beside the point,” I answered, stepping behind the partition to get changed.

  The room was cold, so taking off my clothes was unpleasant. I shivered when I put the stupid front-opening robe on. The flaps in the front wanted to expose everything, and the sleeves were cut wide enough that side boob was very prevalent.

  Self-conscious, I peeked my head past the partition. “Um, could you not look?”

  Annoyed, Delaney put down the magazine she was thumbing through. “Rosie, I’ve seen your vagina so many times, it’s as if it was my own.”

  “But this is my whole naked body. Plus, I’ve gained some weight.”

  Delaney scoffed. “Weight? Aka, baby. You’ve gained baby. Stop being a weirdo and strut it out here.”

  “I find it disturbing that you want to see my body so badly.”

  She shook her head no. “Yeah, not so much. I’m not really that interested in seeing what kind of private parts you have going on, but I want to have a conversation with you and having it while you hide behind that partition is stupid. Get your ass out here and sit on the damn table.”

  I knew I was seconds away from having Delaney drag me out, and knowing her, she wouldn’t be gentle, so I closed the robe incredibly tightly and shuffled out to the table. Delaney stared at me the entire time.

  “Stop looking at me like that.”

  “Like what?” she smiled.

  “Like you’re waiting for me to trip and fall, only to have one of my breasts land on a stirrup, propped up for everyone to see.”

  “That would be a great day for me and something that would most definitely happen to you. Can’t blame a girl for wishing for the best.”

  “You’re such a good friend,” I mocked. “Wanting to see the worst happen to me, so sweet.”

  “Cool your tits, Sensitive Sally. If this pregnancy is going to be you complaining the entire time, I’m not sure I can be by your side.”

  Her voice had a hint of humor in it, but I still had a sickening feeling in my stomach. If Delaney wasn’t there for me and neither was Henry, then how the hell was I going to do this on my own?

  I looked up at the ceiling, willing the tears to go away. I didn’t want to cry in the doctor’s office; all I needed was for Nurse Scale Nazi to come back in here and judge me more.

  “Why are you crying?” Delaney asked, slightly annoyed.

  “I’m not crying.” I quickly wiped my eyes. “The lights are just bright.”

  Delaney sighed and stood up so she was looking over at me while I lay flat on the table. Her eyes were soft, and she was concerned.

  “Let’s talk about Henry.”

  “There is nothing to talk about.”

  Delaney moved a stray hair behind my ear. “Sweetie, you know I love you, but your stubbornness is so not attractive.”

  “I’m not being stubborn. If he knew I was pregnant, why didn’t he ever confront me about it? Instead, he kept pushing me farther and farther away. I disgust him, Delaney. He wouldn’t touch me, even when I practically threw myself at him. He’s been nice and sweet, but that’s it. I think . . .”

  My lip trembled as I tried to gather my words, to figure out the truth that was sitting on the tip of my tongue.

  “What do you think?” Delaney encouraged.

  “I think he wants to be just friends.”

  Delaney shook her head. “Why would you think that?”

  “Think about it. He doesn’t want to have sex with me, but he still cares about me. He takes care of me like he used to take care of me when we were friends. I don’t think I’m the person he wants anymore, and he’s just trying to figure it all out. He’s trying to figure out a nice way to tell me without breaking me in two.”

  Delaney thought about it for a second and took my hand in hers. “I can’t imagine that happening. I know he’s been weird lately but breaking up with you? That doesn’t seem like him.”

  I turned my head to the side, away from Delaney’s sorrowful eyes. I stared at a picture of a uterus on the wall and tried to erase the images of Henry breaking up with me. I couldn’t even fathom the kind of pain I would experience from such a loss. I wondered if getting involved with him in the first place was a good idea. Would he be supportive of this pregnancy? From the way he’d been so standoffish lately, I doubted he wanted to be a part of it. If anything, he would feel obligated to lend a hand because that’s who he was. He was a good guy.

  But would I be stuck at home most nights, taking care of the baby, while he was off at the bars looking for women like he used to?

  Why did he know and not tell me?

  That was the question that kept running though my head. Why wouldn’t he say anything? Was he hoping I just “took care of it?”

  No, never. I shook my head to myself.

  In the faint distance, I heard Delaney say something to me, but I didn’t listen; I tuned her out completely as I shut my eyes and tried to clear my mind of all negative thoughts. This was supposed to be a happy time in my life, but for the life of me, I couldn’t smile.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Bro-mander in Chief

  HENRY

  “You look good in this office,” Freddy said, observing my new space. “Do you know how you’re going to decorate it? This is an important decision. You could go classic with woods and simple textiles, or you can go baller status like Eric and have glass everywhere. Dude must have stock in Windex because that place is spotless.”

  I stared out the window while Freddy blabbed on about decorating. The man was infuriating most of the time, when he wasn’t confusing the hell out of me.

  “You could have a lovely settee over here with a matching ottoman for those days you just want to kick your feet up with your laptop. I think a Persian rug, a mini fridge for your sparkling water, and an espresso machine off to the side are musts. You could do some lovely hosting in here.”

  “What are you doing in here?” I asked Freddy, irritated more than I wished I was.

  I got up this morning, tired as fuck, and felt empty. It was the first night Rosie and I had spent apart from each other since we’d been together. I didn’t like waking up to her side of the bed being cold and untouched. I didn’t enjoy taking a shower this morning without her cute singing filling the small bathroom. I also didn’t like eating breakfast by myself, watching Sir Licks-a-Lot make out with himself. I came into work early, trying to get my mind off Rosie, but Freddy chose to invade my space and talk to me about interior design. I didn’t care about my damn office. I cared about Rosie and what was going on with her.

  Freddy sat in a chair across from my desk and set his hands in his lap. “I feel like you’re mad at me, Bro-mato.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose, telling myself not to take out my frustrations on Freddy. He was just trying to be excited for
me.

  “Rough night,” was all I said.

  Freddy nodded and then looked at my office door. His hands twisted, and it looked like he wanted to say something to me.

  “What’s going on? You look all jittery.”

  “Uh, can I speak man to man with you?”

  “Sure?” I asked in a question, more than a statement. What the hell was Freddy about to tell me?

  Silently, he got out of his chair, shut my office door, and then sat back down. He rubbed his palms on his khaki pants, looking nervous as hell.

  “I don’t really know how to say this.”

  “Just say it,” I answered, annoyed.

  He nodded and took a deep breath. “After the party on Saturday, Tasha came home with me.”

  “Okay. Good for you, man.”

  “I know I broke guy code and everything, since she was your girlfriend.”

  I held up my hand and stopped him. “Freddy, I could care less if you and Tasha hooked up. She means nothing to me. I honestly don’t give two shits who she dates.”

  “Well, that’s the thing, we didn’t hook up.”

  Shit.

  I tried not to roll my eyes. I didn’t want to hear about how Tasha was still hung up on me or what kind of evil plan she conspired to get back at me. I wasn’t in the mood. All I wanted was to talk to Derk and then get to Rosie as soon as possible.

  “Okay, well maybe next time.” I tried to brush him off by unpacking pictures of Rosie from one of the boxes I used to pack up my cube.

  “I don’t think there will be a next time. She didn’t seem to appreciate what happened.”

  I quirked an eyebrow at Freddy. “What happened?”

  His hands continued to twist in his lap, sweat formed on his brow, and I would bet one hundred dollars if I lifted his arm there would be a pool of sweat formed on his light blue button-up shirt.

  “I couldn’t get it up.”

  I stilled. Not really what I was expecting to hear, and something I definitely didn’t want to talk about with Freddy. I barely knew what his favorite coffee was; I didn’t want to hear about his bedroom problems.