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It’s definitely more money than I’ve ever spent on a girl before, but I couldn’t resist.
I slide an arm under her neck, and even in slumber she turns into me, her legs twining with mine. We sleep wrapped up in each other. Two halves of a bigger, better whole.
HOW DID I MISS THIS LINE???
Once I have her tucked in, I leave to get a washcloth and another glass of water.
Im sick rn and this isn’t fair 😭
as I lay the washcloth across her forehead.
“You do whatever you need to,” I whisper into her hair. “I’ve got you.”
Tucker holds me tighter. I burrow against him until there’s nowhere left to go. His strong, solid body is the anchor I need right now. It allows me to cry and curse and rail at the world, because I know Tuck is here, listening to me and steadying me and reminding me to breathe.
“I’m here for as long as you need me, baby.”
“Dean’s Sabrina?” My Sabrina.
I swear, John Tucker has the kind of patience I can only dream of having.
“Not as pretty as you.”
“Our childhoods were so different,” I find myself saying. “And yet we both grew up to be awesome people.”
His jaw drops. “Oh no, darlin’, say it ain’t so. You were into boy bands?” “So into them it’s not even funny. Nana took me to an *NSYNC concert when I was twelve. I swear I had my first orgasm that night.”
I do. Tucker has been very good to me, and that’s part of the problem. If I keep this baby, I’m impacting his life in a thousand different ways—and not all of them are good.
I tuck a protective hand over my still-flat stomach. A smarter girl would get the procedure done, but I’m not that smart girl. Not today. Today, I’m keeping it.
Tucker strolls out with Garrett Graham. They’re both gorgeous, but Tucker is the one who commands my attention.
He shaved his beard. I don’t know how I feel about that—I liked the beard—but
He’s wearing his hockey jacket and a tight, long-sleeve knit shirt with one corner tucked into the side of his jeans. A pair of sunglasses is perched on the top of his auburn head,
“She’s going to suck your soul out. Stay away from her.” Tucker’s lips curve up. He’s either replying that he can handle me or likes the way I suck or maybe even,
“Got a moment?” “For you, always.”
I’ve been AWOL for weeks and he still finds a way to look at me like I’m the only girl in his orbit. I don’t fucking deserve him.
“I need some food before we continue this conversation.
Me any and everytime a human tries to talk to me
If I had to choose the father of my child, I couldn’t have done better than John Tucker. He’s gorgeous, tall, athletically gifted, and smart. But most of all, he’s decent. No matter what happens in the future, he’ll never turn away from his kid. He’ll never make him or her feel unwanted. He’ll never threaten his or her life in any way. No matter what happens—even if I screw up, and I know I will—Tucker will be there to clean up my mess.
I keep having to remind myself of that. I can’t rely on him too heavily or ask too much from him, because he’d give me everything without complaint. But I’m not a taker and I’m not a user. It would be so easy to fall in love with Tucker and allow him to take care of everything. It would be easy. But not fair.
But how can I be with him knowing that I’m the one who turned his whole world upside down? The weight of guilt would crush me more than the weight of loneliness.
“I’ve never had a boyfriend. I only know how to hook up and how to screw up.”
Ik how to screw things up too. Same bestie
“You’re not alone,” he says, fierce and low. “And you’re not dragging anyone down. I’m here with you, Sabrina. Every step of the way.”
“Us having a baby is weird.” “Nope. Don’t think that’s weird either. You’re young—and super fertile, apparently—and I can’t keep my hands off of you.”
“Wait—Tucker’s the dad, right?” “Of course Tucker is the dad,
“The mother of my child,”
She’s driven, yeah, but she’s not cold or judgmental. She’s got the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. She’s…pretty fucking amazing.”
I wish Sabrina could see herself through my eyes. She thinks she’s dragging me down into the gutter with her, but she’s wrong. She’s giving me the one thing I’ve always wanted—a family. Sure, it’s happening earlier than I planned, but life doesn’t always follow a schedule.
“Do I get to be the godfather?” “Fuck that!” Logan objects. “He’s picking me. Obvs.” “Bullshit. I’m clearly the better choice.” “You’re clearly the bigger egomaniac, that’s what you are.”
Just because I’m a basket case doesn’t mean I should freak anyone else out.
I’m the one who likes to be in control. If I know the sex of the baby, I can plan for it. Buy cute little girlie stuff or cute little boy stuff. Come up with names. Tucker is a go-with-the-flow guy. He thinks we should just buy yellow clothes and be done with it.
I want to slide my hand inside his pants, grip his cock, and stroke him off until he comes all over my hand. Did I mention I’m horny as fuck?
Even the accidental brush of my own hand against my boobs gets me hot and bothered.
Me on my period :
Every time I see Tucker, I want to rip his clothes off. And he knows it.
Same
“You ready to be more than friends yet?” he murmurs. I glare at him. “I’m telling you I’m nervous and you’re thinking about sex?” “No, you’re thinking about sex.” He grins. “Your eyes are begging me to fuck you.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have let you watch The Hills Have Eyes last night.” “There was nothing else on,” I protest. And I didn’t want you to leave.
I’m so pathetic.
Same
“How about this? We’ll rock, paper, scissors for it.” Yeah, we’re going to make great parents, all right.
We count in unison. On three, we reveal our hands. He did paper. I did rock.
“Sorry, baby, but you lose.”
“Rock weighs down the paper so it can’t fly away. It traps it.”
Girl math
“Don’t worry. This won’t take long. Soon you’ll be able to pee to your heart’s content.” “Awesome. Living the dream.”
“Daddy here is being stubborn,”
“Nuh-uh. Mommy is the stubborn one who doesn’t like surprises.”
This guy refuses to let me open doors. It’s like he doesn’t understand that I have hands.
If Tucker buys a laser hair-removal salon, maybe he’d offer me the services for free.
Girl math
I’m afraid of tipping over doing my one-legged, flamingo grooming dance in the shower.
