Gentleman Nine(54)



“I wish I could do something to help.”

“You already are…just by being here for me.”

Really wanting to sleep with him tonight, I said, “I feel kind of weird making you sleep on the couch.”

“It’s fine.”

“Would you want to sleep with me in my bed?”

A smile slowly spread across his face. He arched his brow. “Do you even have to ask?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure if we were still playing by the rules.”

“My mother is living with us, and there’s a small chance you could be pregnant with my child. I’d say the rules went out the window a long time ago.”

Maybe that should have made me want to cry, but I couldn’t help but laugh.

He followed close behind me as we made our way to my bedroom.

In bed later that night, he spoke against my back. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Yeah?”

Channing pulled me closer. “The thought that you could be pregnant with my baby turns me on.”

“Really?”

“Don’t get me wrong…I know it would be a nightmare for us right now, but…the idea that I could’ve knocked you up definitely makes me a little crazy…in a good way.”

“What would we do, though, honestly…if I was?”

“We’d figure it out.”

“You wouldn’t be upset?”

“Upset is not the right word. Scared, yeah. But upset? No. Maybe because it’s you.” He paused then squeezed me from behind. “You make me happy, Amber.”

His words left me speechless. The idea that he would actually accept the possibility of my being pregnant with his child was not something that I’d considered.

Turning around and touching my forehead to his, I said, “You make me happy, too.”

I truly was—for the first time in a long time.





CHAPTER NINETEEN




* * *



RORY




Boris stocked his shelves ever so slowly while I sat with my feet kicked up on a chair. His hand trembled as he placed a can of Campbell’s Cream of Mushroom soup inside the grainy wooden cabinet of his dated kitchen. With a porcelain sink, Formica countertops, and linoleum floors, Boris’s kitchen had a 1950’s vibe going on. I felt like I was in a time warp.

I’d go food shopping for my elderly neighbor once a week after work. He’d pay me back by pouring me the best glass of Cognac. And I’d get fucked-up. Best part of the week if you asked me.

“One of these nights, Rory, you’re gonna get drunk as a skunk and finally tell me what happened.”

I let out a single laugh. “I know not what you speak of, Boris.”

“Did she die?”

“Who?” I pretended to not know whom he was referring to.

“The pretty girl in the photo on your phone. The one with the smile that lights up her whole face. The one I’ve never seen around here because she’s either dead or long gone.”

I never had the heart to change the screensaver of Amber on my phone. It was my favorite picture of her. She’d been sitting in a pile of dried leaves and laughing. It literally made my heart hurt to look at it, but at the same time I just couldn’t get rid of it.

Although I’d never pointed out the photo to Boris specifically, he’d apparently noticed it.

I’d danced around opening up to the old man for a long time now. But tonight was different. Tonight was Amber’s and my anniversary. Well, what would have been our anniversary—the first one since the break-up. We always used to make a big deal about our anniversaries. This one was supposed to be epic, because I’d planned to propose to her tonight.

I just didn’t feel like I could hold it in anymore. I needed to tell someone what had happened. Boris was safe. Who the fuck was he gonna tell my story to? The mailman? Boris didn’t leave the freaking house.

Fuck it.

“Her name is Amber.” I could hardly believe those words had exited my mouth. Just saying her name was painful.

“Amber! Amber. I like it.” He lifted his glass. “Like the color of this here magic juice.”

“Damn straight. Amber…just like the Cognac.”

He sat down. “Tell me about her.”

Where to begin.

Where to begin.

“Well, I’m pretty sure I’ve loved her for as long as I’ve known her. But we were together for over nine years.”

“Nine years. Wow.”

“Yeah. And she loved me with every ounce of her soul.”

“Why did she leave?”

“She didn’t.”

“She died?”

“No. I broke up with her…broke her heart…shattered it.”

“You…broke up with her? Why would you do that?”

“Because I love her more than anything in the world.”

“I may need more alcohol because this isn’t making any sense, son.”

“Trust me, we definitely need more alcohol if I’m gonna tell you the rest of this.”

Boris poured me more Cognac. “Okay, so tell me why a guy who’s hopelessly in love with a girl breaks her heart. How does that happen?”

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