Wish Come True (The Blogger Diaries Trilogy Book 3) (11 page)

BOOK: Wish Come True (The Blogger Diaries Trilogy Book 3)
2.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“I remember it being that way too when we finally got Jason. We tried so long to get pregnant, and then when we adopted him, everyone was so thrilled to have another baby in the family that they were always fighting over who got to hold him,” she replies, stretching her arm behind me to tug on Jason’s ear.
 

He swats at her hand playfully, growling, “Stop that,” when she pulls a few more times.
 

I glance at the time on the grandfather clock against the far wall, seeing it’s 4:30 p.m. I should probably feed Josalyn again before we leave in about an hour.
 
I don’t want to wait until we get to my brother’s, because I don’t want her to be fussy on the drive back. She’ll more than likely fall asleep after I feed her, since she hasn’t taken a nap since we got to Friendswood.
 

“Can I use your room to nurse Josalyn?” I ask Jason quietly. I don’t want anyone to feel awkward by breastfeeding her in the living room.
 

“You don’t have to hide, babe,” Jason tells me, but seeing the uncomfortable look on my face, he nods. “Of course you can use my room, but I’m coming with you. You’re not leaving my side the whole time you’re here. I don’t care what you say.”

“What if I have to pee?” I joke, standing from the couch and grasping Josalyn under her arms when Mrs. Robichaux lifts her up to me.
 

“I’ll be there to squirt soap into your hands, like one of those bathroom attendants at the bar,” he asserts, making me snort.
 

“That’s not creepy at all,” I say sarcastically, but I can’t help the smile pulling at my lips that he wants to spend every minute he can with me, because I feel the same way. It’s how I always felt when I lived in Texas too. It’s why I never thought twice about the long drive every day to come see him. It was worth every second of the stressful route, every cent I scraped together for gas, and every hour of sleep I lost going home at such a late—or technically early—hour before having to make it to school shortly thereafter. I would do it all again in a heartbeat, even knowing how things ended up, because this moment makes it all worthwhile.
 

“Do you want to sit on the bed or the couch?” Jason asks as we enter his bedroom.
 

“I’ll take the couch,” I reply. The armrest looks plush and comfy. It’ll be nice to rest my elbow on while she nurses. Plus, a part of me wants to save his bed for just us, to keep it for more intimate and fun activities.
 

“Do you need anything?” he asks, seeming a little lost as he turns around in circles, not knowing where to look.
 

“Could you hand me the baby blanket out of her car seat?” I can’t help the smile tugging at my lips as I sit down on the far end of the couch, next to his closet. He looks adorable as his slight awkwardness turns into relief, having been given a task. Sitting Josalyn on my lap, I unbutton the four buttons of my thermal Henley and then reach through the open neckline to pull my sports bra’s elastic above my right breast, keeping myself still completely covered with the fabric of my shirt. When he hands me the blanket, I lie Josalyn back into the crook of my elbow, cover us up with the soft cotton material, and then using my left hand, I move my shirt out of the way, feeling my girl immediately latch on, never exposing even an inch of skin. We might have had a rough start with the whole breastfeeding thing, but we have it down to an unconscious science now.
 

I scoot my butt down a little on the black leather cushion and get comfortable, knowing I’ll be here for the next twenty minutes, and then glance up at Jason, who is still standing next to me, a confused look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” I ask him, glancing down to make sure she hasn’t pulled the blanket out of the way. The little turd has done it before, so I hope she spares me the embarrassment this time. I know I shouldn’t feel any type of shame for feeding my daughter, and I really don’t. But I’m the girl who used to dress out for gym in school in the girls’ bathroom because I was too shy to do it in the locker room. I can count on one hand how many people have actually seen my boobs, even though my sexual partner count is a couple hands higher than that. It’s the part of my body I will probably always be self-conscious about, no matter how cool it is I’ve been able to keep a baby alive with them for nearly nine months. Super useful as they are, I’ll never be happy with the way they look, so covered they will stay. Jason’s the only person who even remotely made me feel comfortable with my small breasts, so I want him to continue to see them as a sensual part of my body, not as a functional one.
 

I’m still draped with the baby blanket, so I look back up to him with a questioning expression.
 

“That’s it?” He tilts his head to the side, lowering his brow.

“What do you mean?”
 

“Like, I expected the set up and stuff to be a lot more difficult and to at least catch a glimpse of a titty. That took like two seconds, and you can’t see a thing. What’s the big deal?” he asks.

I force myself to stifle the laugh wanting to burst out of me. I don’t want to startle Josalyn and make her unlatch. “Sorry to disappoint. It just makes some people uncomfortable being around it, so I spare everyone the awkwardness and do it privately. Even when they can’t see anything, just knowing it’s happening can freak people out.” I shrug my left shoulder, since she’s cradled in my right arm.
 

“Fuck those people. Let anybody say anything to you about it while I’m around,” he grumbles, making me grin.
 

“That’s exactly why I do it in private, so I don’t ever have to worry about that. Plus, there’s the added benefit of getting some quiet time. If I get overwhelmed and just want to be alone, then all I have to say is I gotta go feed the baby. Boom, instant scapegoat. Sure, I’m not really alone,” I pat Josalyn’s diaper-covered bottom, “but it’s close enough.”

“You okay with me sitting beside you, or should I get on the bed?” he asks cautiously.
 

“Of course you can sit next to me, silly,” I giggle.
 

“Good.” He sits as close to me as possible without actually sitting on my lap, sliding his arm behind my lower back and using his strong hand to cup my right hip and pull me against him once again. He uses the remote to turn on TruTV, and we spend the next fifteen minutes laughing at
The World’s Dumbest Criminals
. It takes me a while to realize Josalyn has stopped suckling, enjoying the relaxed easiness of being snuggled up to Jason and doing something so domestic as watching TV while feeding the baby. But when I do, and I pull my sports bra back down beneath my shirt and remove the blanket, I see Josalyn has gone into a milk coma, breathing deeply, her mouth wide open, milk dribbling out of the corner of her lips.
 

I giggle, pulling Jason’s attention from the show, and when he sees what I’m softly laughing at, he leans closer to look down into her sleeping face. “She looks shwasted,” he whispers, making me cover my mouth with my palm so I don’t wake her up. My body shakes with my laughter, but I manage to keep from making a sound. “Do you want to lay her down?” he asks quietly.

I nod, and he takes my left hand and pulls me up from the couch. I lay her in the middle of his bed on her side, and then smile at Jason’s fascinated face when I slide one of his pillows under his fitted sheet, creating a makeshift bumper so she doesn’t roll off.
 

“You seriously know all sorts of tricks, huh?” He sounds proud as he pulls me down onto his lap on the couch.
 

“You learn things to make life a little easier after you have a baby. But then there’s all sorts of shit you think you need before you have them, and then never end up using it too, though. Like a baby bathtub? I got one for my baby shower, and ended up only using it once. It’s much easier, and a lot less painful for your back, just to bathe them in the kitchen sink.”

He threads his fingers into my hair and pulls me down for a kiss, and as if we do it every day, he turns our bodies and stretches out, and we finish watching the rest of the show.
 

When it’s over, Josalyn is still sleeping deeply, so I set up the baby monitor I had stuffed into her diaper bag before I left Tony’s, taking the white handheld device with us as we go into the kitchen, where his mom is fixing dinner. Glancing out the window, I see it’s already starting to get dark, but I just can’t bring myself to leave yet. I might as well wait until it’s late enough so not that many cars will be on the road. Plus, I can always drive in the far right lane; that way, the headlights coming from the opposite direction won’t mess with me so much.
 

“You better get t’goin’, honey. It’s almost full dark already,” Mrs. Robichaux says as she opens a can of corn and pours it into a pot on the stove.
 

“Josalyn is taking a nap right now. I think I’ll be fine as long as I wait until rush hour is over. With the concrete wall between north and southbound, headlights shouldn’t bother me too badly,” I reply.

“Well, call your momma and let her know, since she’s probably expecting you to be home soon.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I smile at Jason, seeing him roll his eyes. I use the phone on the kitchen counter to call her quickly, telling her I’ll be home later than expected. After repeatedly assuring her I’ll be fine in the dark, I finally have to cut her off, telling her dinner is ready and I have to go. I swear to God she makes me feel twelve, when I’m a twenty-three year old woman with a child of my own. But at the same time, I wouldn’t have her any other way. She’s the best mother anyone could ever ask for.
 

“Are you guys hungry?” his mom asks.

“I’m still pretty full from lunch, and then we had the big pretzel at the mall. Thanks, though, Mrs. Robichaux.”

“Oh, stop it with all that Mrs. Robichaux nonsense. Call me either Barbara or Mom. I’ve known you too damn long for you to be so formal,” she reprimands, making me grin up at Jason again, who leans down to kiss my cheek before moving to the refrigerator in the utility room.

“You want something to drink, babe?” he asks, bending down to grab himself a Coke from the bottom shelf.
 

I peek around him to see what they have and ask him for one of the Gatorades in the door. I haven’t had a soda since before I found out I was pregnant. The carbonation gives me heartburn just thinking about it now.
   

We sit down at the kitchen table to sip on our drinks, and when Barbara is finished stirring each of the three pots heating on the stove, she comes to sit with us, wiping her hands on a dishtowel.
 

“So, little lady, imagine my surprise when my womanizing son here told me he had asked you to be his girlfriend,” she exhorts, making me choke on my Gatorade. My eyes cut between her and Jason then back again, not knowing how to reply. “I remember y’all being very close, the best of friends, but never once did I ever catch wind of you having feelings for each other. Did you date when you lived here?”

“Mom, we’ve been over th—” Jason gripes, but his mom cuts him off.

“I know your side of the story, but now I want to hear hers.”

I swallow, feeling a little panicky, because I’m not positive what Jason has told her about our past. I shoot him an anxious look, but all he does is shrug. What the hell does that mean?

“We didn’t
date
, exactly. Um… we, uh… I had a huge crush on him, and he was my best friend, and we… um—”

“Y’all were friends with benefits,” she supplies, and I feel my face grow extremely hot.
 

I clear my throat and shift in my seat. “I would have given anything to be his girlfriend, but he never asked, so I took what I could get, yes,” I confirm.
 

“When you first started coming over, weren’t you dating Gavin?” she inquires.

“I went on a couple of dates with him, but I wouldn’t say we were dating. We weren’t an exclusive couple or anything. And to be perfectly honest, I only talked to him for as long as I did so I could hang out with Jason,” I confess. “But then Gavin pulled that crap, telling me I wasn’t allowed to come see y’all.”

“Oh, I remember that now. Is that why you and Gavin stopped talking for a little bit after she moved back to North Carolina?” she asks Jason.
 

“Partly,” he replies. “I was hung up on her, and it felt really strange, for the both of us, for me to be down in the dumps over a girl he had gone out with, so we kind of stopped hanging out for a while.”

My head snaps up in his direction. This is all news to me.
 

Barbara catches my surprise and confirms, “Oh, yeah, honey. He was miserable to be around when you left. I thought he was just sad to have his friend move away, or that maybe he and Gavin had a fight or something, but it makes much more sense now, knowing it was because the girl he was in love with had moved home. We could barely stand to be around him. Worried us for a little while, going out and drinking all the time. And then he met that awful girl—”

“Mom,” Jason growls, interrupting her.
 

“What awful girl?” It slips out without my permission. I don’t really want to know anything that went on during the time we weren’t together. Even though I was married to someone else, I don’t want to think about Jason being with other people.
 

“Don’t worry about it, babe. None of that matters now,” he says, reaching beneath the table and squeezing my knee.
 

I change the subject. “Do you have a piece of paper I can use? I have something to show you. I don’t think even Jason has figured it out yet.” I give him a nervous smile as Barbara grabs a pad of paper and a pen from the kitchen counter. I take the pen and write out Josalyn’s name in all caps, and underneath it the same way, I write out Jason’s. I set the pen down and turn the pad towards them, holding my breath while they read what I wrote.
 

His mom slides her glasses onto her nose from where they dangled on a chain around her neck, taking the edge of the pad in her hand to tilt it at a better angle. I don’t even have to look at Jason to know he’s staring at me. I can feel the heat of his gaze boring into me, making my neck grow hot and tingly. He finally spotted it.
 

Other books

Lost by Chris Jordan
Love Inspired May 2015 #2 by Missy Tippens, Jean C. Gordon, Patricia Johns
The Real Mason by Devlin, Julia
Hef's Little Black Book by Hugh M. Hefner
Coldwater Revival: A Novel by Nancy Jo Jenkins
Zeina by Nawal el Saadawi