Brat (8 page)

Christian frowned, his dark eyebrows furrowing over his electric blue eyes. He stepped closer, lowering his voice so only I could hear. “What happened? He didn’t do anything I need to kick his ass for, did he?”

I couldn’t help but smile at that. Christian was definitely the big brother of our group, always looking out for us girls. God help the guy that screwed one of us over. Before Jenn got with Luke, she was dating this asshole named Dain, who had been playing her and God knows how many other girls. He was an old high school friend of Christian’s, but when he found out Jenn had been hurt by Dain’s betrayal, Christian was livid. Even though Jenn had given him a black eye, Christian hadn’t been satisfied. Jenn had told me Christian had confided that he’d gone back for a piece of Dain himself. Needless to say, the jerk went around sporting a bruised cheek and a busted, swollen lip to match that shiner for a while.

Everyone knows Christian is a player, but the girl who finally captures that guy’s heart is going to be lucky as hell. Christian is a protector, on the field and off, and he is like a lion about the people he loves—ready to chase down and claw anything or anyone that would dare mess with us.

Wrapping my arms around Christian’s waist, I hugged him tight, resting my head on his chest. Surprised, he hugged me back.

Laughing, he patted my shoulder. “What was that for?”

I smiled up at him and stood on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “For being the best big brother I wish I’d had growing up. Chase didn’t do anything bad and he didn’t hurt me, I swear. It just isn’t going to work out. We’re both really focused on our futures right now, and our lives are going in different directions.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I could see that. Unless you decide to start a clothing line using only hemp, you have nothing in common with him at all.”

Just hearing Christian voice it out loud confirmed it. I was absolutely right about me and Chase, and if someone else could see it then I wasn’t crazy. Insane attraction just wasn’t enough to build a relationship on, not when the people involved are still scarred from the past and so different they aren’t even pieces of the same puzzle.

“Well, you don’t have to worry. We’ve come to an understanding of sorts. Everything is cool, don’t worry.”

He pulled away. “All right then, as long as you say it’s cool I won’t kill him.”

“Get out of here you big, dumb jock.”

He wrinkled his nose at me. “Whatever, loser. You going to Luke’s thing tonight?”

“Yeah, I’m going.”

“Okay, I’ll see you later then.”

“Have a good practice!” I called after him as he loped down the stairs.

Chase passed him on the landing, coming up as he was going down. He’d just returned from two back to back classes after a full day of work and he looked exhausted … but still delicious in his khakis, button-up shirt, and tie, a faux leather satchel hanging from one of his large hands. My heart stuttered at the sight of him, my skin growing warm. His steps faltered and his gaze swept over me in that way it always did; a way that left me feeling exposed.

Leaning against the doorframe of his and Christian’s room, he crossed his arms over his chest and studied me. “How are you feeling?”

I shrugged. “Fine, I guess. All the crappy stuff seems to happen in the morning. By noon I tend to feel much better. Got any plans tonight?”

“Yeah, I’m going home for the weekend to give my mom a hand with my brother.”

I should have been relieved that he would be gone, but somehow I felt just the opposite. “Oh,” I said, my eyes lowering to the carpet in the hallway. “That’s great. Well, I guess I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Chloe?”

I stared up to find him standing less than a foot away from me, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he grinned. That smile hit me full force in the gut, throwing me off balance. Luckily, there was a wall behind me and I steadied myself. “Yes?” I breathed, my eyes wide as he leaned close.

He paused just before our lips could touch and smirked. “I’m going to miss you, too,” he said simply before withdrawing, turning back toward his room. It closed behind him and I was left standing in the hallway, gaping like an idiot.

Chapter 5

The weekend passed us by in a surprising blur. Luke and
Wicked City
slayed their first set at Hole in the Wall, earning them new local fans, and—more importantly—beyond a decent first week’s pay. The night was fun enough, even though I couldn’t indulge in my usual slew of martinis and Jell-O shots. Luke’s band was actually pretty good, and Luke himself is a superstar in the making. It was a fun night, and served to take my mind off Chase and next week’s appointment for a few hours. Even Kinsley, who managed to drag herself out of bed after her nap, was in a better mood. Saturday morning and afternoon were spent helping Luke and Jenn unpack the rest of their crap, and finishing up a few homework assignments. And, of course, that night the Longhorns delivered the first of what everyone knew would be a string of victories, murdering North Texas sixty-five to thirty-two.

Sunday was a quiet day, with Christian gone to have his usually weekly dinner with his folks at home, and the rest of us pretty much focused on finishing up our homework. It was like the teachers wanted to establish from the get-go what jerk-offs they could be by piling on as much work as possible in the first week. Okay, we get it, senior year is serious stuff—geez, ease up a bit.

By Monday morning, though, I was back to being a nervous wreck. Chase returned from his visit home Sunday evening, and stopped by my room to let me know he’d be ready to take me to the clinic in the morning.

“Okay, but this time I’m driving,” I said, trying to keep my voice light. “I refuse to be seen riding around in that piece of tin you call a car again.”

Chase merely smiled and shook his head at me. “Sure, have it your way, princess.”

“I usually do,” I’d countered before closing the door and retreating to my bed in an attempt at getting a good night’s sleep. These days, it seemed I could never get enough sleep. No matter how many hours I managed to get, I always woke up tired and nauseous. Not that I held anything against the baby, but I was already so over this pregnancy thing.

The drive to the clinic was quiet and strained, the only break in the silence Chase’s fingers drumming the armrest. As quickly as the weekend had gone by, Monday morning seemed to creep past second by slow second. The fun of the weekend was forgotten, and the heavy task at hand was all that mattered now.

After a twenty minute wait, we were ushered into an exam room, larger than the last one we’d been in. This one had a big table with shining stirrups sticking up out of it, and a rolling piece of machinery pushed up to its side. The plump, smiling nurse was back, and—thank God—she was wearing baby blue scrubs today. It was a big improvement over that hideous salmon pink.

“You can step behind that curtain there and get undressed,” she said, the smile never leaving her face. What the hell was wrong with this chick? Did performing abortions give her the warm fuzzies? Because I can tell you, the prospect of having to get one certainly didn’t give me a case of the smile and giggles. “Take off everything from the waist down and put on the gown.”

“Whoa there,” I said, catching her arm before she could leave the room. “The waist down? Is there some reason I have to take my pants off for an ultrasound?”

The nurse gave me a patronizing look that clearly said, ‘oh, you poor, stupid girl’. “Honey, when you’re so early on in your pregnancy, we have to do a transvaginal ultrasound to get a clear picture.”

My mouth dropped as I snuck a timid glance back at the hulking ultrasound machine hanging out near the exam table. Hanging on the side of the machine, on a plastic hook, was the world’s scariest looking dildo with what I assumed was a camera on the tip.

“Transvaginal?” I repeated, turning back to the nurse. “As in … that thing is going up in my love pocket?”

The nurse gave me another smile, this one sympathetic. “Don’t worry, most women say it doesn’t feel any different going in than a penis.”

“Yeah, those girls must be screwing the Terminator,” Chase muttered from his corner of the room. When the nurse turned her wide, shocked eyes on him, he flushed, embarrassed. “Sorry, but that thing is scary-looking.”

The fake smile finally melting from her face, the nurse sighed. “She’ll survive. Please, Ms. Sanders, change so the doctor can perform the exam.”

Accepting the pink—why am I not surprised?—gown, I stepped behind the curtain and started unbuckling my belt. “No peeking,” I warned Chase.

“Yeah, because this situation has got me all hot and bothered. Hey, why don’t you stick a leg out from behind there like a burlesque show? Jesus, Chloe!”

“It was a joke,” I grumbled as I wiggled out of my jeans and panties. “Just trying to lighten the mood.”

“Sorry,” he grumbled, and I pictured him running his hands through his luscious curls. “Just a little tense out here. Not that I have as much reason to be as you.”

“Don’t worry about me,” I told him, emerging from behind the curtain in the gown. “I’ll be fine. Tie this in the back for me?” I asked, turning around. I’d managed to tie the bottom part covering my ass, but couldn’t reach the one at my neck and my back was exposed to the cold air of the room. I pulled my hair over my shoulder and Chase stood, coming up behind me to tie the strings. His fingers lingered on my neck, massaging gently.

“How do you do that?” he asked, his voice a low whisper.

“What, pretend that things don’t get to me?” I shrugged and turned to face him. “It takes practice, but you get the hang of it after a while. Eventually, it gets easy to pretend nothing fazes you.”

His hand came up to my face, his thumb stroking my jaw. I fought the urge to lean in to that touch, to sink into him and cry my eyes out. “People who appear that way on the outside are usually the ones hurting the most.”

“Yeah,” I scoffed, “you would know.”

Chase nodded slowly, his hand falling away from my face. “Yeah, I do. That’s how I know when you’re doing it.”

Until he’d reappeared in my life, I’d had no idea just how much Chase understood that. I’d known all about the girl who’d stomped on his besotted little heart, but I never knew about the death of his father, or the struggles his mother endured trying to provide while caring for a special needs child. It made my little problems seem so trivial. Poor little rich girl’s parents don’t pay attention to her, and her rich, stuck-up boyfriend used to slap her around. Big freakin’ whoop.

Only, now, with this decision the field might just be even. This was proving to be one of the most difficult of my life, and I knew the repercussions of it had only just begun.

“You can stop pretending,” he added solemnly. “I can tell you’re not having an easy time with this. There’s no one here but us, you can stop with the act.”

Nodding silently, I lowered my eyes. His hand on my face was reassuring and tender, and his lips on my forehead chaste but firm. I swayed into him a bit, drawn to the comfort he offered.

A knock on the door interrupted the moment, and Chase turned to answer it as I climbed onto the table. The nurse entered, followed by the doctor, who began working to prepare the machine while the nurse helped me into the stirrups, draping me with a blanket made out of what had to be the thinnest paper on the planet.

I laid back on the table and turned to Chase. “Just because you’ve seen my girly bits doesn’t mean I want you witnessing this. Stay behind my knees, mister.”

Chase took his place at my shoulder, his eyes fixed on the ugly pink wall. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, a tiny smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Doctor Simmons sat on a little rolling stool and situated himself right between my parted, elevated legs. Thank God I showered this morning or this could have been really embarrassing.

“Okay, Miss Sanders,” he said in that calm and soothing tone I suspected he used on all patients. I have to lubricate the transducer in order to make this easier on you. Sorry, but it’s a bit cold.”

My eyes widened as he rolled what looked like a gel-filled condom over the thing he’d called a transducer—but I was now dubbing ‘alien penis’—before lubing it up with a clear gel. I gasped as the doctor inserted it, mostly from the cold, but that sensation faded quickly. The doctor focused his attention on the monitor, while I fixated on the wall, trying not to think about the
thing
pressing against my bladder with infuriating accuracy that made me want to clench my knees to keep from peeing myself.

“Now, Ms. Sanders,” he said. “As I informed you last week, you are not obligated to view the ultrasound images, though the vaginal transducer will pick up the baby’s heartbeat and make it audible. I am also obligated by law to describe the condition of the fetus to you.”

I nodded, keeping my eyes on the wall. “Okay, I’m ready,” I said, two seconds away from screaming at the guy to get it over with already.

A bit more probing, and the doctor stopped moving the intrusive thing around, which helped ease the tension in my bladder a bit. I bit back an annoyed rant and continued staring at the ugly walls.

“Sir, would you like to see?” the doctor asked.

To my dismay, Chase actually agreed. “Sure,” he said.

“Very well, just give me a moment to take some measurements.”

After about ten minutes of poking around the doctor finally spoke again. “Looks like we were spot on with the gestational age. You’re about ten and a half weeks along. Sir, if you look there, you can see the fetus.”

Silence filled the room as Chase leaned against the side of the table, staring at the monitor. My eyes flitted up to him, finding his face tight and pinched.

“What is it?” I asked, panic striking. “What’s wrong?”

Chase shook his head. “Nothing’s wrong.”

Suddenly, a weird sound filled the room, taking me by surprise. It was unlike anything I’d ever heard, like a cross between a chugging and a whooshing. “What is that?” I asked, fighting against the urge to look at the monitor. Seeing would only make it harder. “What’s that noise?”

“That would be the heartbeat,” Chase said, his voice a near whisper. His eyes were wide, his voice filled with the same wonder I was feeling as I caught hold of the sound and clung to it.

“It’s so fast,” I murmured. Chase glanced down at me, and I could see it in his eyes … the same thing that was happening to me in that moment. He cared about this baby.

“That’s normal,” he said, his hand taking one of mine. “Fetuses have rapid heartbeats.”

“One hundred sixty beats per minute,” Doctor Simmons confirmed. “Well within the normal range.”

I swallowed past the rapidly growing lump in my throat and tears sprang to my eyes. Chase had been right. This ultrasound had only made me feel more awful about the decision I had made. I didn’t think I was going to be able to hold it together much longer.

“How does it look?” I asked, my voice raspy as I fought to hold back the tears.

“Everything looks normal here,” the doctor replied. “Length of about eight and a half millimeters, normal for the gestational age.”

“I want to see.”

The words were out before I could think. Earlier, I’d been determined not to look, to refuse to let some government law written to pressure women out of their decisions change my mind. Yet that whooshing sound couldn’t be ignored, and the little picture on that monitor was real.

Chase frowned, staring down at me. “Are you sure?” he asked. “You don’t have to.”

I nodded, a lone tear finally escaping and rolling down my cheek. “I know,” I told him, “but I want to.”

One of his hands came to rest on top of my head, his fingers stroking my hair. “Well, all you have to do is turn your head.”

I knew that, but I still needed that prodding from him to do it. I turned my head and looked, prepared to be confronted with a tiny being with ten fingers and ten toes that would cause me to fall into a fit of tears over the tiny life we were throwing away.

I found myself surprisingly underwhelmed.

The monitor was in black and white, and all I could make out was a gaping black blob in a sea of gray, with a smaller gray blob at the center.

“Um, okay, can someone tell me what I’m looking at here?”

Chase and the doctor exchanged nervous laughter and the nurse tittered. So I’ve never had an ultrasound … never been knocked up before.

The doctor jiggled the little mouse beside his monitor, pointing with the arrow to the different areas. “Well, this is your uterus,” he said, tracing the outline of my baby oven, “and this is the sac the fetus is growing in. And this is the fetus.”

I frowned, inclining my head a bit. “That? That’s not a baby, that’s a blob!”

Chase let out a laugh and I speared him with a glare. He choked on it and straightened his face. “Sorry,” he said. “Okay, let me explain it to you. You see the top of the blob there, the round part?”

I squinted and tilted my head. “Yeah, I see that.”

“Okay, that’s the head.”

I frowned. “Kid’s got a lumpy head already. Must get it from your side of the family.”

He snorted sarcastically. “It’s only ten weeks old. I have a spectacular head. Anyway, you see those little projections coming off the blob? There are four of them.”

I gasped, finally making it all out. “Those are arms and legs!” I exclaimed, now mesmerized by the little blip on the screen. “I think I see fingers and toes, too!”