The Randy Romance Novelist(83)

“Okay.” I paused for a second, not wanting to get all girly on Derk, but nervous about my future. “Do you think Rosie and I are done? She left me, Derk.”

“That she did,” Derk confirmed. “But Rosie is also dramatic, and I think she wants a dramatic response. Think big, think books. From knowing her, I will tell you this right now, you will always be chasing after the happily ever after with her.”

Didn’t I f*cking know it.





Chapter Eighteen


Fraggle Rock



ROSIE




The harmonious sounds of Delaney making friends with her toilet echoed through the room as the sun shined down upon me. Delaney’s couch was less than comfortable and definitely didn’t have the best smell either, which I tried not to let myself wonder what the smell was from. I missed the warmth of Henry’s arms, the comfort of our bed, and the silence of an early morning.

Delaney’s retching wasn’t doing it for me. It wasn’t doing it for me so much that I started to get the sweats myself, and before I knew it, I was trotting over to the kitchen trash can, expunging all the wiener bites I had last night.

Wasn’t morning sickness supposed to happen within the first few weeks of being pregnant? I had no clue how far along I was, but if I had to guess, it would be three months and I was cruising right along into my second trimester. I was too overwhelmed at the doctor’s office to even think about asking how far along I was or what I needed to be doing to take care of the baby.

I couldn’t deny this forever, though, so I made a mental note to call the doctor this week, apologize for sticking his head between my legs, and try to figure all this baby stuff out.

Just thinking about the baby made my mind wander. Was I going to be doing this alone? Last night wasn’t as successful as I thought it was going to be. I wasn’t sexy; I knew I wasn’t. I didn’t have a passionate desire for Henry to sniff my underwear . . . I was just trying to see if we could spice things up. Then once he denied the sniffing, I wondered if there was something so wrong with me that he didn’t want to bring my panties to his nose. If he asked me to sniff his boxers . . .

Nope.

My head went back into the trash can and I dry-heaved a couple of times before my stomach settled.

I couldn’t blame the man. Fabric crotches should be kept to one’s self, not shared with significant others, no matter how erotic it looked.

Still . . . he didn’t want me. But why?

He told me he loved me, he held me at his boss’s party, he made sweet gestures like my maid-of-honor penis. Why was he pulling away?

OH.

MY.

GOD!

“Delaney!” I shouted like a crazed woman, running through their apartment and straight into the bathroom, where Delaney was resting her cheek against the seat of the toilet, one of her boobs hanging out of her camisole and a pair of Derk’s whitie tighties being the only cover-up for her bottom half.

“Oh, dear,” I said, stopping in place from the sight in front of me.

“Fraggle Rock,” she mumbled, spitting into the toilet and running her finger along the edge.

Her makeup was smeared, her hair was greasy from a mixture of vomit, sweat, and last night’s activities, and I was pretty sure if you tapped her like a maple tree, you could serve up a keg of vodka for a frat party.

Cautiously, I knelt down beside her, tucked her boob in her shirt for her, and patted her forehead with a washcloth that was on the sink.

“Why are you mumbling about a live-action puppet show?”

“It was such a simple time,” she answered, her voice rough, like an eighty-year-old who’s given way too many blow jobs.

“I don’t quite understand, but I’m just going to nod my head.”

She blew a long breath of air out of her lips, foaming saliva and bubbles, not a very attractive picture for her at the time.

“Remember being a kid, when alcohol didn’t exist?”

“Alcohol existed when we were children. We weren’t raised during prohibition.”

“That’s not what I meant,” she sighed, pulling her body away from the toilet and leaning against the wall of the bathroom. “When we were young, alcohol wasn’t on our radar. We didn’t care about consuming it. We cared about Fraggle Rock and the Fraggles and the Doozers and what colored jellies we were going to wear.”

“Pink with glitter, always,” I reminisced.

“Purple with glitter. Remember how they used to stick to your feet when you walked, especially on a hot day? Such impractical footwear.”

“But stylish,” I pointed out.

“Nonetheless, they were simpler times. Times I can remember. Last night, I don’t even know what happened. Flashes of pink cocks and pubic hairs is all that crosses my brain. Did I act like Oprah handing out cock rings last night?”

“That would be an accurate statement.”

Delaney barely nodded, not wanting to shake too much. “Then you did your job, maid of honor. You brought out the inner Oprah in me. I couldn’t be more proud.”

“That’s an odd thing to say, but you’re welcome,” I laughed.

Delaney tilted her head to the side, taking in my outfit. “Why are you here right now?”

“Henry and I got in a fight last night. He wouldn’t sniff my underwear.”