Rock the City: A Midnight Fate Novel (36 page)

“I woke up and the bed was empty. And I can’t get warm.”

“Come on.”

I take her hand and lead her back to the bedroom where I help her out of her clothes. She shivers and folds her arms across her body for warmth. As much as I want to keep her naked, I grab one of my sweatshirts and slip it over her head. It easily falls to her knees and the sleeves hang past her fingertips, but she smiles once it’s on her. Sniffing the fabric, she says, “It smells like you.”

I rub my hands up and down her arms, hoping she’s already a little warmer. “Better?”

She nods and cuddles against my chest. I hold her as close as I can get her, thanking God she’s still with me. But every time I close my eyes, it’s like I’m watching a movie in fast forward. A million different scenarios about what could have happened to her flash before my eyes, pissing me off all over again.

Even though her neck’s sore, she tilts her head back and looks up at me. “Whatever you’re thinking, Lane, it’s not your fault.”

“Let’s get in bed.”

She follows me but is cautious when she lies down beside me. “Are you mad at me?”

“Mad? Why would I be mad?”

“Something’s wrong. What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing’s wrong, baby. Don’t get me wrong, we still have a lot of shit to figure out, but did you mean what you said about the baby in the trailer?”

She narrows her eyes, no doubt trying to remember everything she said. While it’s harder for her to pinpoint which specific thing I’m talking about, I can still hear her saying the words like it happened two seconds ago instead of two hours ago. “Which part?”

“That you want the baby. Did you mean that?”

She swallows and hesitates long enough that I start to think she was just saying whatever she could so Lemon would put the knife down. But as soon as she looks at me, I see the truth reflecting in her eyes, plain as day.
She wants the baby.

“You heard her, Lane. She can’t be a mother to the baby, and we can’t expect her to love someone else when she doesn’t even love herself. It’s going to take time to get her life back on track, and that baby will need someone’s absolute best long before that.”

I couldn’t agree with her more. It doesn’t change the fact that Lemon’s still the one calling the shots, no matter how much we agree with what she wants. Ultimately, it’s her decision to make—and her prerogative to change her mind ten times before she does. “What if she changes her mind and wants to keep it? Can you handle that?”

“I’d be lying if I said any of this was easy for me, especially since I can’t ever have a baby of my own, but I’d never use her to get what I want. So, if she changes her mind, then we’ll still help her as much as we can or as much as she’ll let us. We’ll be an amazing aunt and uncle and make sure the baby never wants for a single thing—including love.”

“And if she sticks to her story and wants us to, you can handle it?”

She blinks slowly, biting her lip as her chin quivers. “I’d be a mother, Lane.”

Before a single tear falls, I grab her. “You’ll be the best mom, Noelle. Just like all the ones I wished I had. You’ve already been an incredible sister to Lemon without even trying.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“Every damn word, baby.” Her body’s still sore, and her mouth might sting, but I need her. I need to be consumed because tonight, I’m on the verge of falling off the edge of a cliff; the regret that’s building up inside of me is so strong, her body is the only force powerful enough to keep me standing. She’s my relief.

“If we do become parents, I’d never keep Lemon a secret. This baby will know my love
and
hers.”

“I know, baby. I know you mean it.”

“Do you promise you want this to? That you’re not just agreeing to make me happy?”

“Noelle, if I am meant to be a father, I can’t think of a better person to be a dad to than my niece or nephew.”

“Okay.”

“Baby, we don’t have to decide anything tonight one way or the other. All I want to do is cuddle the fuck out of you and get some sleep. After we wake up, we’ll start figuring out the rest.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. Just rest.”

She lays her head down and whispers, “I love you.” Seconds later, she’s snoring softly in my arms, completely exhausted.

“I love you, too.”

Eight weeks later . . .

“Lane, hurry up! Trim the nose hair later.”

He walks out of the bathroom, laughing as usual. “I was brushing my teeth. Are you trying to tell me something?”

“Not at all. Left side.”

He walks over to me with that look in his eyes that tells me I have no right to complain. I suppose I don’t. “You do realize why I was brushing my teeth, right?”

“You’re the one who wanted to save water and shower together. I can’t help you ended up on your knees again.” He sucks on my neck, making my back arch and my boobs press against his chest. I’m so damn easy it’s pathetic.

“You weren’t complaining when you were marking up my back with your nails and rattling off every swear word ever invented.”

I bite his bottom lip, just enough to make him groan, but not hurt him. “What can I say? Your mouth deserves a medal, Lane.”

“Good. Now that you’re nice and relaxed, are you ready for this?”

“I’m ready,” I say with a sigh against his cheek. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to find out if we’re having a little boy or a little girl. It feels wrong to want one gender over the other or to have a preference at all, so I’ve tried not to imagine pink or blue in my arms. I just see a bald-headed baby like that little shit, Caillou, I saw on TV the other day.

He tugs on my arm, laughing when I don’t move. “Come on.”

I follow Lane, and with each step I take, I’m reminded it’s another closer to becoming a mother. For years, I thought this dream was gone, but ever since Lemon signed the papers to allow us to be present for all her medical appointments, this journey has been real. So real I catch myself pinching my arms to make sure I’m really awake.

Lane links our fingers as the elevator doors open and close. “You look pretty today. I like this color yellow on you.”

I smile because he’s being extra sweet when in reality I’m laughing on the inside. “Just don’t crash the car. All my nice underwear’s in the wash. I’d die if they had to cut this pair off me.”

“I love the way you get extra inappropriate when you’re nervous.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tell him as he leads us toward the parking garage. I’m a damn mess today. I thought riding his face in the shower for fifteen minutes would calm me down, but now every time I look at him all I picture is his head between my thighs.

That mouth.

That tongue.

I have to stop.
Think about vaginas and babies.

I concentrate so hard, we both end up being pretty quiet for most of the drive. When I do glance at him from behind my sunglasses, the worry line between his brows gives him away. “What’s wrong, Lane?”

I wait for him to tell me he’s having second thoughts or, worst-case scenario, that something’s wrong with Lemon or the baby, but he doesn’t say those things. He doesn’t say anything at all.

Finally, as we’re pulling into a parking spot, he shuts the car off and walks around to my side of the car. Like a gentleman, he opens my door and helps me out. Before he can get away from me, I tug on his hand and stop him. “What is it?”

He rolls his eyes and says, “I’m not trying to start an argument or anything, but can you let Lemon pee in the little plastic cup by herself this time?”

“My peeing bothers you enough to silence you for
five
miles?”

“Noelle, I really don’t want to go in there with you upset. This is supposed to be a happy day for us. I even wore yellow so you wouldn’t accuse me of pulling for a little boy.”

Laughing, I tell him, “I’m not mad at you. I’m just sorry I embarrass you so much when I was only trying to be Lemon’s moral support. It’s not easy to hover and pee, you know.”

“I didn’t say it was, especially when you have a belly sticking out. It’s just that the nurses wouldn’t think you’re so crazy if you could pee in the toilet like a normal human being.”

“Since when do you care what people think about me? I thought you loved me because I’m me.”

“Since you became mine, Noelle. I want them to see how amazing you are—and for them to see what I see when I look at you. Your quirks and rough edges are fun, but there’s so much more to you than your wild sense of humor.”

I lean in and give him a kiss. “You, my friend, just earned yourself a blowie.”

He tips his head back and mumbles, “Jesus, Noelle.”

“Come on, lover. We have a little one to see.” When he doesn’t budge, I tell him, “I won’t pee in the cup.”

“Thank you.”

“I wouldn’t want my big, bad rock star to get embarrassed.”

“Noelle,” he warns, the way I love so much. It usually ends up with me bent over and him slapping my ass.

“As soon as we get home,” I say in a rush before pulling him inside the lobby.

“What?” he whispers, but I can’t even look at him right now. Not when I want him to touch me.

Thankfully, the nurse is waiting for us and takes us right to Lemon’s room, where she’s already lying down on the exam table for her ultrasound. We’ve been in this office plenty of times, but never for something as exciting as this.

I grab Lemon’s hand, squeezing it. “You okay?” I ask her.

It was her choice whether we found out the sex of the baby or not. It wasn’t something I was going to push for or even ask for, given the circumstances; as far as I’m concerned, we’re along for the ride and she’s the one running the show and calling the shots. When she told me she thought it would make our lives easier if we knew whether we were having a boy or girl, I was completely blown away that she would do something like this for us. But like I’ve been discovering, Lemon’s just as amazing as her big brother.

“I’m good.” She pulls her shirt up and I smile at her growing belly. Her therapists are making sure she’s taking her vitamins and eating a balanced diet. I’m the one making sure she’s getting all her cravings. If the girl wants a taco with a side of pickle juice, or French fries dipped in a chocolate milkshake, I’m going to make it happen for her.

Glancing up at Lane, his eyes are glued to the monitor and his hands are around my waist, fingers splayed over my stomach. A couple months ago, I would have struggled through this moment. I would have been feeling guilty that I couldn’t give Lane a child of his own, and sad that I’d never get to experience a baby growing inside my own stomach. But after realizing we were okay, I knew I was feeling sorry for myself and not what I’d lost out on. As soon as I let go of my anger about a life I couldn’t change, this pregnancy has been so much fun.

“Can you tell what it is?” Lane asks when the technician pauses a little longer on a specific spot.

She enlarges the area and, with the keyboard on her machine, she types, ‘Daddy’s Little Princess.’

I’m pretty sure Lane melts into the carpet, even though he’s going to be outnumbered and so screwed. “A little girl.”

Lemon has tears running down her cheeks and I quickly grab a tissue off the counter and hand it to her. “I’m proud of you, Lemon.”