Proving Paul's Promise(11)

I knock on Paul’s door, and he calls out, “What?”

I open the door a crack. “What the f*ck is it with you and that greeting?” I say.

“Did you want a soliloquy?” he asks. He’s lying back on his bed tossing a ball toward the ceiling.

“I want you to come back out and hang with me and the guys.”

“No.”

That’s all I get? “Why not?”

“Why should I?”

“Why shouldn’t you?”

“I don’t particularly care to watch you with your boyfriends.” He keeps tossing the ball.

“They’re not my boyfriends, dumbass,” I say. I shove his legs over and sit down on the edge of his bed. “If you’d come out here and spend some time with them, you’d see that.”

He sits up and moves to the other side of the bed. “I can’t believe you brought them to my f*cking house.”

“Would you zip your f*cking mouth before you dig yourself a bigger hole?”

“It’s my house. I can dig around in it as much as I want.”

He sounds like a two-year-old, and it makes me laugh. Then I snort.

“Which one is your baby’s father?” he asks quietly. He stops tossing the ball.

I shrug. “It could be either one of them.”

He tenses. I can see it in the lines of his body. He’s solid as a rock, all of a sudden. “I don’t like that. Not at all.”

“You don’t understand. If you’d come out there, you’d get it.”

Suddenly, he hooks an arm around me and drags me to lie on top of him. I rest on my elbows on his chest. “I don’t like the idea of you f*cking them.”

“I didn’t f*ck them,” I say. I move like I’m going to get up.

“I’m jealous as hell, Friday, and I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit. So, go and play house with them. Leave me out of it.”

“They’re gay,” I blurt out. I really wanted him to come to the knowledge by himself so he would understand.

“What?”

“They’re a couple. I’m their surrogate.” I lift my fist and knock playfully on his forehead. “Earth to Paul,” I say. “Are you still in there?”

“They’re a couple?” he asks quietly.

“Yes.”

His arms tighten around me, and then he flips us over until he’s hovering over me. He brushes my hair back from my face. Then he does something I never would have expected. He chuckles. It’s a deep belly laugh, and he buries his face in my neck, his body rocking, he’s laughing so hard.

“They’re married,” I say. “And they wanted a baby.” I point down toward my belly. “I wasn’t using my uterus for anything, so I told them they could borrow it.” I lay my palm on the side of his face and bring his blue eyes to meet mine. “Now can you stop being so jealous and come and have dinner with us?”

“You never slept with them?” he asks. His eyes search my face, like he’s looking for the meaning of life.

I shake my head. “I don’t think they’re into vaginas,” I say. “And I kind of have a vagina.”

He grows hard against my belly, his breath blowing hot across my lips. “I kind of like that you have a vagina,” he says. He laughs again, and his nose sweeps back and forth against mine.

“Well, it’s been so long since it’s seen any action that it might be broken.”

“I’ll fix it,” he says quietly. He’s so f*cking intense that I can barely think.

“And there might be a baby in there.”

“When will you know?”

“Nine more days.”

“And if you are?”

“They’re going to be happiest men on the face of the planet.”

“How do you feel about it?” He’s so quiet and direct that it’s almost unsettling.

“It’s like having an empty apartment in the city. Someone should get some use out of it.” I try to laugh, but he’s not laughing with me.

“Do you want kids?” he asks. “Your own some day?”

“No.” I don’t need to think about it; I already know the answer. I do not and will never, ever want kids.

“So, I suppose I should let you up to go meet the men who got you pregnant.” He laughs. “That sounds so wrong.” He kisses my cheek. “All I want to do is kiss you, though,” he says quietly.

“What’s stopping you?”

“There’s beer and pizza,” he says as he lifts himself off me and holds out a hand. I let him pull me up, and I adjust my dress where he messed it up. He motions for me to precede him out the door, but at the last minute, he tugs my elbow and draws me back. “Friday,” he says.

“What?” I ask, breathless with how close he is to me.

“I…ah…I don’t know what to do with all these brand-new feelings for you,” he says quietly.

“Okay,” I breathe in response.

“They scare the shit out of me, but they make me feel hopeful, too.”

“Why me?” I ask.

“Because you’re you,” he says, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.