0215543001348293036 vaughn piper oshea m.j.

BOOK: 0215543001348293036 vaughn piper oshea m.j.
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Copyright

Published by

Dreamspinner Press

382 NE 191st Street #88329

Miami, FL 33179-3899, USA

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

One Small Thing

Copyright © 2012 by Piper Vaughn and M.J. O’Shea Cover Art by L.C. Chase
http://www.lcchase.com

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 382 NE 191st Street #88329, Miami, FL 33179-3899, USA

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

ISBN: 978-1-61372-496-5

Printed in the United States of America

First Edition

May 2012

eBook edition available

eBook ISBN: 978-1-61372-497-2

To Xara X. Xanakas.

You are amazing, funny, talented, and always willing to lend an ear or a shoulder to cry on. We love you. It’s our honor to know you and call you a friend.

Thank you to all of our test readers, inside the AWA and out.

You helped us make this story better.

one small thing

Prologue

Rue

I WAS having a pretty fabulous night, if I do say so myself. My eyeliner was on just right, my hair spiked and swooping to perfection in all the right places, and I’d managed to walk that flirty fashion line between slightly slutty and downright whorish that somehow ended up with the boys drooling and me getting amazing tips. Like I said, a pretty fabulous night indeed.

“Rue, when are you gonna let me fuck you?”

I chuckled.
Oh, Devon.
“You know the answer is never.” I laughed again but made sure he could tell I meant it. “Oh, the irony, huh?” Two tops did not a happy bed make. Plus, guys always seemed to want more after the first time. Another night in the sack, a movie, dinner, a relationship….

Relationships and me were bad luck all around, and Devon was my friend. Yes. Better to keep things that way.

“Get back to work, Dev, or I’m going to end up stealing all your tips. You know my ass looks better in these hot pants than your skinny little nothin’ much.”

Devon grabbed his crotch and made a rude gesture with his other hand. I had to laugh. Working with him was always a good time.

I was on the second level of the Tom Tom Club, tending bar next to the dance floor where the boys’ shirts seemed to disappear like bad

[1]

Piper Vaughn & M.J. O’Shea

dreams as the night wore on—nothing I’d ever complain about, mind you. I’d see pairs of them walking out to the balcony for smokes and then some and smile… a bit enviously. I’d fucked more than a few of those boys in my day. Ah, memories. Sometimes I really wished I wasn’t working. And then another of those nice tips would come in and I’d wink and remember why I was really there. To save enough cash to finish school and get the hell out of Dodge… er, Delaware. The California sunshine was calling my name.

Wait for me, WeHo, I’m on my way!
It was the thought that got me through most days.

“RUE?”

I froze.

Damn. Double damn.

I felt the presence of a person before I turned around. Britney was playing, and I’d been shaking my butt and taking a gulp of my water, relieved to have a moment’s break in the middle of a long, sweaty night, when I felt her.

Natalie.

How did I know it would be her before I turned around? I guess

’cause my mistakes always seem to come back to haunt me in some fashion. If only I’d had a clue, I might have hidden before she saw me.

I think that would’ve been my worst mistake yet.

“Rue?” Her voice was the same the second time she said my name. Oh, sigh. I hadn’t been hallucinating after all.
Please tell me she
hasn’t somehow missed the glaringly obvious fact that I’m, like, super
gay, and, while alcohol may have changed that for one god-awful half
hour of my life, it sure as hell isn’t going to happen again!

I turned, ready to cringe.

“Hi, Natalie.” I tried to smile. It kinda failed. I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut and pretend she was George Cloon—ewww, was her eye

[2]

one small thing

makeup really that bad when I decided she’d be my girl-periment?

You’d think even a super-sloshed me would have better taste than that!

“Rue, we’ve gotta talk.”

Great. When does that sentence ever end with something you wanna hear? Answer—uh,
never
.

“What is it? It’s been like—”

“Three months. Almost to the day.”

I chuckled, all of a sudden nervous. When women started counting days….
Ooch, aye.
Obsession City.

“So, what’s up?” I took a hopefully casual swig of my water.

“I’m pregnant.” And promptly spit it all over the bar.
Say what?

“That’s nice, sweetie. Are you still with the papa?”
Please,
please, please say yes.

“Standing with him right now, in fact.”

Not what I meant by yes.

I gripped the edge of the counter. Black spots exploded in my eyes. I waved to get Devon’s attention.

“Devon, I gotta take a break.” It came out sounding, if possible, even worse than I was feeling. I could taste the bile in the back of my throat.

“Are you okay, honey?” Devon raised one manicured hot pink eyebrow until it nearly touched the edge of his equally hot pink hairline. He rubbed my back with a cool, slender hand. I flinched, then felt bad for doing it. Devon was just trying to help.

“I’m not sure. I’ll be back.”

“Take your time, baby cakes. I’ll be here.” He reached over and squeezed my shoulder. I gave him a weak smile before I ducked under the side gate of the bar and gestured for my (no effing way could it be really happening)… baby mama?

Oh, whoever’s up there in the stars, save me now!

[3]

Piper Vaughn & M.J. O’Shea

“THAT’S. Not. Possible,” I hissed when I’d managed to get Natalie to a remote corner of the fuck-ony—I mean balcony. I heard a moan nearby and the faint slapping of skin. Sounded like guys fucking (as usual), but maybe it was something else… like the sound of my whole world exploding into little pieces all around me.

“It is possible. It happened. The baby is yours.”

“You’re sure?”

Her eyebrows snapped together. “What the fuck, Rue?”

“Just checkin’.”

“No, I’m not a big whore, and yes, I know it’s yours. It’s not like I had a lineup that month. You wanna test?”

“Okay, okay. You don’t have to get all hissy. What do you want me to do?”

She shrugged. “I’m just telling you in case you
do
want to do something. I don’t wanna abort it, but I’m sure as fuck not keeping it. I am
not
mommy material.”

Do something? What did she want me to d—

Oh. My. God. Does she think
I’m
mommy material?

“I can’t have a child, Nat! I’m… well… I’m….”

“The most maternal person I’ve ever met. You take care of that clueless friend of yours all the time.”

“Dusty?” He
was
kinda clueless, but at least he had opposable thumbs. Did babies have opposable thumbs yet? I could feel myself spinning out into that freak-out mode where I thought about every stupid little thing other than the fact that….
Oh my God, I’m a father.

Or would be in six short months.

The music pounded along from inside the club, thumping happily over the newest Latin dance craze, but I felt like I was imploding, exploding, spiraling out of any sort of control. Usually my grip on

[4]

one small thing

control was pretty slippery anyway. Seemed like I had finally lost it completely.

I tried to smile again, but it fell flat. “So what are you going to do if you don’t want to keep it?”

Natalie shrugged again. I wanted to scream at her.
How can you
be so calm?

“Guess if you don’t want it, then I’ll give it up for adoption.” The idea shot me right in the gut. Another unwanted child in the world. I’d been unwanted—my parents kept me, but I’d been unwanted all the same. I’d always thought they used my gayness as an excuse to do something they’d wanted to do my whole life. I hadn’t talked to them since I was sixteen. I didn’t want that for my baby.
My baby
living stuck in the system with someone else, not knowing his or her father. Me.
I
was its father. Her father. His father. Me.
Oh my God.

“I’ll take it.”
Did I just say that out loud?
My ugly childhood and newly emerged need to care for my own had come charging from somewhere unknown. Too damn bad if I wasn’t ready.

“You want the baby?” Natalie looked more shocked than I was.

“Um…,” was all I could say. Did I really mean it? I did. Oh my God, I meant it. I knew what being abandoned felt like, and I would never do that to a child of mine, no matter how unexpected it was. “I want the baby.” My mouth went completely dry.

Sweet Jesus, what did I just do?

I WAS walking home that night—fast since it was late, and I didn’t really want to run into a herd of drunken frat boys spilling out of Scratch’s or Hooligans. Straight boys weren’t usually my friends (unless they wanted me to fuck them hard and then pretend it never happened), and that super flirtatious outfit, ever so perfect for earning tips at the Tom Tom? Yeah, it would also be perfect for attracting a frat-boy ass kicking. Random fairy bashing was the last thing I needed on a night like I’d just had.

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