LUKA (The Rhythm Series, Book 2) (20 page)

“That’s what she tells me.”

“How does that work? You date her but screw guys?”

I threw him an angry look and he held up his hands, taking a pace back.

“I’m not trying to be a dickhead.”

“It’s . . . complicated.”

He gave a dry laugh. “You should have stuck to dudes, mate. Much easier.”

I had to smile at the irony.

I texted Sarah that I was on my way, giving her a chance to tell me not to bother, but she didn’t.

She was waiting for me on the couch. I knew she’d been crying because her eyes were red, but she seemed calm now.

“I talked to Mum,” she began before I sat down. “I know she can be . . . but she didn’t mean it. She’s sorry you were upset.”

I doubt that
. But I kept the thought to myself.

“We need to talk about how this is going to work,” I said carefully.

She sighed and looked down. “I know. I haven’t been very fair to you. I haven’t even thought how you must be feeling, what with breaking up with that guy, and me dumping all this on you.” Then she reached out to hold my hand. “But you’re my friend, Luka. You can tell me anything.”

I cleared my throat.

“It was a shock, about the baby.”

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s not . . . I keep thinking what will he or she be like. Do you think they’ll be a dancer?”

She laughed happily. “Good odds, I’d say. But maybe she’ll get brains like her Uncle Seth. Or maybe she’ll debate like a barrister, like her grandmother.”

I withheld a wince. Twice.

“It could be a boy and play soccer.”

“Ooh, home games at Tottenham Hotspur—not hating that!”

I smiled.

“But I’ve been thinking about us, as well.”

She frowned, her eyes darting around anxiously. “Okay?”

“Maybe I could . . . take you on a date? See how it goes?”

Her smile returned. “That would be great! We did kinda just skip to the getting shitfaced and having sex bit.”

“I’ll find somewhere else to live, too.”

Her smile fell immediately. “Why?”

I ran my hands through my hair, feeling the gluey tug of gel that I hadn’t washed out.

“It would be easier.”

“Easier how exactly? Bloody hell, Luka, we’re going to be parents in six months. We should be
sharing
this.”

“We will.”
Somehow
. “But I think we should take things slowly.”

“Slowly?” She pulled herself off the couch, staring at me. “If that’s what you need, Luka. But you don’t have to move out. Take the couch. It doesn’t bother me.”

That could have gone better.

She turned around suddenly.

“Why don’t you call me ‘booch-ka’ anymore?”

I frowned. “I do.”

“No, you don’t. Not since the first day I was back from Australia.”

Was she right? I wasn’t sure.

She gave me a penetrating look, then went to bed. The silence was a relief.

WE WERE TRYING.
We were both trying. Sarah was trying not to push, although I knew she felt anxious about where things were going and what would happen when the baby was born. I was trying not to fuck up again.

For the last month, we’d gone on some dates, talked, found the rhythm of being friends again.

She wasn’t happy that I’d be away next year touring with
Slave
, but she was fair enough to know that’s how I earned my living. If she hadn’t gotten knocked up, she’d have been with me. It bugged her, I knew that much. We talked about her joining me on the tour when the baby was a bit older.

And we still hadn’t slept together, although she wanted to. I felt like I’d be cheating on Seth, even though I hadn’t seen him and he hadn’t replied to the couple of texts I’d sent. I knew Sarah talked to him, but she didn’t suspect anything. I still wanted to tell her, but the further away it was, the less point there seemed to be.

Today, I was playing the role of adoring boyfriend to a group of Sarah’s friends from high school while she enjoyed every second of it.

I wish it didn’t feel like acting all of the time. I
wanted
it to be real.

Sometimes it felt like it could work. Like when I went with her to doctor appointments, and we looked at baby clothes together. I couldn’t believe how small some of those things were—they were seriously cute.

Sarah was petite, but I’m kind of big for a dancer. The doctor didn’t want to guess on which way things would go, but I could see her looking at me and then frowning at Sarah’s small frame. Sarah pretended she wasn’t fazed, and made a joke about shitting a watermelon, but I could see that she was bothered.

One of her biggest problems was that she was bored. Like me, she was used to working all the time, or taking dance workshops and going to auditions. She still did a couple of easy classes a week, but it left her with a lot of free time on her hands.

I’d encouraged her to catch up with some of her old friends, and she’d gone overboard on planning this party, that was a cross between an English afternoon tea and a baby shower.

My role was to smile and make the drinks. I think it was mostly about Sarah wanting her friends to know that she wasn’t just knocked up and on her own. I could understand that, but it was all fake. We were friends, sort of. We weren’t in a relationship exactly—not the kind she wanted, anyway.

I really needed to get my shit together and decide what I was going to do. I wasn’t being fair on either of us. But her due date crept closer, and I was no nearer to knowing what the fuck I was going to do. I guess you could say I was winging it.

Ash tried to help. When we spoke on the phone, he kept asking me what I wanted to do and even offered to move the tour date back so I could spend more time with Sarah right after the birth. I wasn’t sure I wanted him to mess up everyone else’s schedule, but he said he’d talk to Selma, the dance company’s producer/manager, and see what they could work out.

Through all the confusion, it helped to have a friend like him. But he couldn’t make the decisions for me. God, I was such a pussy.

I was handing out margaritas to Sarah’s friends before I left for work.

“So you met in Chicago?” asked a loud girl whose name I’d forgotten the second after she’d been introduced to me. “Was it love at first sight? Your eyes met across a crowded room?”

Sarah laughed.

“Something like that. When I met him, I immediately thought, ‘Wow! Let me take off your shirt and lose the jeans while you’re at it’.”

She turned to her friends, oblivious to my irritation as I stalked into the bedroom to grab my coat and gym bag. I’d only stayed because she wanted me to meet her friends. I was suddenly very glad I had to be at the theater.

“I kinda seduced him. I was totally off my face, puking my guts up because I couldn’t get Luka to shag me.” She giggled. “But he was my white knight, taking me back to his hotel because I was too drunk to tell the taxi driver my address. Or at least, that’s what he thought. I knew it was my last chance. So I waited until he was asleep, then, um, got him excited, if you know what I mean. After that, it was game over. I wasn’t expecting to get pregnant—that was just a bonus. Totally worth it though,” and she stroked her growing belly.

“You know how stupid men get when they’re faced with a pair of boobs,” she said as her voice dropped to a whisper and she giggled again. “Mine were small and perky, but that’s one thing I’ll say for being the size of a water buffalo, my boobs are huge now.” She smiled smugly at her friends. “It only took one quick flash to put Luka in the mood.”

I frowned as she finished her story, meeting her eyes, as she gave me an embarrassed smile. Had she wanted me to hear all of that? I had no idea why she was lying about our non-existent sex life, unless it was to provoke me?

Part of me wanted to pull her aside and yell at her, but it wasn’t like I hadn’t fucked her when she gave me the opportunity that first time.

But it put me in a bad mood as I headed out. They were still laughing and drinking when I left, the music cranked up loud enough to annoy the neighbors. I was glad to be out of there.

I began to feel like I didn’t know Sarah as well as I’d thought. When she was with her friends, it was like she was acting in a movie of her own life, editing the scenes the way she thought they should happen.

I knew that she felt really insecure about everything that was happening. A large part of that was down to me, refusing to commit to a relationship, but still living in her apartment.

I shook my head. It really wasn’t fair to either of us.

So what the fuck was I going to do?

I gave myself until the end of the month to make a decision one way or the other. I grimaced at the thought. Maybe I was as bad as Sarah, living in a dream world and hoping that if I ignored it, the obvious problems would go away.

“Oi, Luka!”

I was halfway through finishing my makeup when Ben yelled at me.

“What?”

“I asked if I could borrow your hair gel—I’m out.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“You’re a bit distracted, mate. Anything wrong?”

“Just got a lot of crazy stuff going on,” I sighed.

“Woman trouble?” he said. “I’m the master of that shit. Is your baby-mama giving you a hard time, or are you just not getting any?”

I laughed and shook my head.

“You can talk to me,” he said seriously. “I’m guessing the news that you’re going to be a dad was a surprise.”

“You could say that, yeah.”

“And your woman is giving you a hard time.”

“Yes, no, maybe. Shit, it’s kind of fucked up.”

“Things were pretty serious with that bloke you were seeing, weren’t they?”

I glanced up at him, wary now.

“Maybe.”

“It’s not fucking brain surgery, Luka. It’s not like I’m walking around with ‘Mr. Sensitive’ tattooed on my arse, but anyone could see that you were happy with him. Now . . . you just seem miserable all the time.”

“No, I . . .”

“Just ‘cause you knocked up this bird, it doesn’t mean you have to marry her because that’s what
she
wants. That’s all I’m saying. Women have babies all the time.”

And he slapped me on the shoulder.

Yeah, that little pep talk helped.

But I wondered . . . was doing the right thing wrong for everyone?

I hated hospitals. They always made me feel sick. And British hospitals were even worse, stuffy and overheated, in ugly concrete buildings.

Sarah was gripping my hand tightly as the technician smeared a clear gel over her stomach. I was surprised to see how round she’d become in the weeks since she’d been back in London.

As of last night, we’d progressed to sharing a bed, but only because she said she’d had a nightmare and that she’d sleep better if I was there. We hadn’t had sex, even though I knew Sarah wanted to. I’d been delaying, making excuses, because it just felt wrong. God, I was pathetic.

It wasn’t fair to Sarah or me. But I couldn’t be the asshole who left her to bring up my child by herself. Why couldn’t we be a couple? Sarah was a great girl, when hormones weren’t making her a raving psycho. We’d been friends for nearly two years. I loved her. As a friend. Why couldn’t I make it more? What was wrong with me?

Seth.