Straight Up Love (The Boys of Jackson Harbor #2)(30)

Wincing, he pulls a tap and pours himself a beer. I’m pretty sure the only time we’ve talked about this without Jake reaching for a drink was the morning at his apartment, and I’m starting to think he might have done so then too if it hadn’t been before noon. He looks horrified—like, truly horrified to be having this conversation—so I snap my mouth shut. I’ve been thinking about this so much that it poured out of me. I can’t tell Ellie because I know she’s not a fan of my plan anyway. But Jake’s a dude. He doesn’t want to hear about irregular periods and ovulation testers.

“I’m sorry,” I moan. “You were just being polite, and I responded with total diarrhea of the mouth. I’m becoming one of those women who overshares everything. I’m just trying to plan it all out before I get started, but I can’t plan like other women, and that’s frustrating.”

“Yeah.” He clears his throat and stares into his beer. “It’s too bad you can’t just have a guy you sleep with regularly, so you don’t have to worry about conserving the precious sperm for fertile moments.”

I grunt. “If I had a guy I slept with regularly, I wouldn’t be in this position, would I?”

He takes a long drink from his beer and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I guess not.”

“Am I being an entitled brat? I just want a baby. I’ve worked really hard to set my life up so I’d be in a good position for a family. I have summers off, and I’ve worked two jobs so I could pay off my little house and have a good nest egg. I don’t drive a fancy car or go on elaborate vacations. I make good decisions because—” I snap my mouth shut and shake my head. “I am. I’m being an entitled brat. I think that just because I want something, I should have it and I should have it now. But it’s gonna be fine.”

Jake rubs the back of his neck and stares at me. “Fuck,” he mutters. Then he grabs my arm and pulls me through the swinging door into the kitchen. “On your birthday, were you serious when you asked me to help you?”

“I mean, drunk serious, but yeah.” I make a face. Did I ever properly apologize for putting him in that position? I am the worst. “Jake, I’m sorry about that. No one should ever ask something that big from a friend.”

He taps his fingers to his lips and studies me. “You know you’re never going to get knocked up on your own if you’re this stressed about it.”

I wince. Harrison used to say that.

“Stop putting so much pressure on making this happen.”

“You try to control everything. It’s no wonder your body won’t accept a baby.”

“Can’t you meditate or something?”

I lift my chin. “You might be right, but that’s not a very nice thing to say.”

“Shit. I mean . . .” Reaching out, he tucks my hair behind my ear, then he puts a hand on the wall on either side of my head and leans in. And I mean he leans in. His heat is close, his eyes are on me, and his forehead is nearly touching mine.

A shower of flurries goes through my belly and up my arms, and long-ignored lust for my best friend wakes up and stretches her arms.

Down, girl. This is Jake. Not some hot stud preparing to take you home.

“Let me help you,” he says. “I want to help you.”

I drop my gaze to his mouth. It’s so close to mine and making me feel things I’m not allowed to feel. “Are you offering me unlimited sperm until I’m knocked up?” I’m trying to be funny and force a laugh, but laughter fails me when he’s this close and my heart is hammering.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “I guess you could put it that way.”

“How would that even work? Would you just hand over a fresh cup of the goods every couple of days?” My second attempt at a giggle sounds maniacal, but my body is a flurry of excitement—because, yes, I have my reservations about doing this with a friend, but that doesn’t change that he’s offering me my dream. I want to wrap my arms around him and squeeze him hard. Instead, I study him and unsuccessfully try to read his thoughts. More than once in the last week, I’ve looked at potential sperm donors and thought about that awkward morning at Jake’s apartment. He never said no, did he? He had misunderstood my request, and then I shut it down as a bad idea before he could answer. “You’d really do this for me, Jake?”

“You’re my best friend. I’d do anything for you.”

My chest is warm. “I’m not sure I deserve that.”

“But I’m not jacking off into a cup.”

I frown. “Now I’m confused.”

His smile is soft, and his eyes sweep over my face. “I’ll help you have a baby, but we’re gonna do it the old-fashioned way so you can relax about it.” He shakes his head. “None of this ‘am I ovulating, am I not’ nonsense. Just you and me and old-fashioned baby-making until you have a little one growing in your belly.”

I blink at him. I think I know what he’s getting at, but considering the subject matter, I think it’s best if I get some confirmation. “I’m sorry. What exactly do you mean by old-fashioned baby-making?”

He straightens, putting some space between us. My heartbeat steadies, and I can breathe easier . . . yet I miss his heat.