Page 43 of Expecting an Argument
I rolled my eyes. “I’m clearly not trying hard enough.”
“I remember sitting behind you in English class junior year,” he said. “You used to go off about all the macabre shit that some dead poet wrote about and gave everyone the creeps. I was only annoyed, but I never wanted to move because you smelled good.”
“Glad to know you’re still a douche—wait, what did you just say?”
I turned to him, but he responded with only a shrug. “Whatever soap you used back then…I don’t know, it was really strong.”
“My Island Passion body wash?” I asked. “I got it from thedollar store.”
“I always thought it smelled like summertime,” he said. “Sometimes I would lean forward to flick you on the head so you would shut the hell up, but then I would smell that fruity, tropical scent and just…”
Slowly, Beau’s hand that rested on the console rippled into a fist, as if he were grabbing an imaginary ponytail.
Heat flooded my cheeks in an instant. I squeezed my legs together, as if to trap the tension that had suddenly built there. I stared at the approaching city skyline, but I couldn’t stop the rush of mental images of his fist in my hair, of me taking his cock into the back of my throat, and of him gasping and pleading for mercy as I sucked his soul out.
Oh, no. Oh, no no nono.
I took a gulp of my icy water to try to douse the dirty thoughts out of existence, but my growing libido was becoming a powerful itch I had to scratch. Scientifically, it made no sense that I was so horny when I was already pregnant, but I couldn’t keep ignoring the problem.
Thank God I had my vibrators back in my room.
After a silence that was so tense Beau had turned the radio back on, we had finally made it to the appointment. The babies were fine. I was gaining weight at a good rate. Dr. Ornelas even praised me for keeping up with my water intake.
And as soon I was back behind the locked door of my bedroom, I took care of my urges—over and over.
Though the thought of Beau and his big hands and his little whimpers kept creeping into my fantasies, I refused to cross the hall and knock on his bedroom door.
But one night…the temptation to break down the “we’re only co-parents” wall called to me. Instead of giving in and risking losing myself in his sheets, I pulled out my phone and did a deep dive of Beau’s socials.
And I found Katie.
He hadn’t deleted any of their photos from college, not even their engagement shoot.
And just as I suspected, Katie was an Ashley. She was thin and perky with a pearly white smile and long blonde hair downto her waist. Her ruffled floral dresses mad her lookperfectlydelicate. She probably came from a good family that went to Europe at least once and wanted to be a veterinarian when she grew up. And the way Beau looked at her in each and every photo…
I slammed my phone onto my nightstand and rolled over in bed.
Katie was his type. I was the high school rival he wanted tomess with.
Beau was not my boyfriend. He was not my lover. I would not fall into the trap of believing we were anything more than temporary roommates.
Even when he had texted me to meet him in the garage to get the onion fried burgers I had been craving, I had refused to consider it a date. He was doing the bare minimum to provide for the woman he knocked up, nothing more.
Beau’s giant truck had finally come back from the shop and was waiting for me in the garage, so I mentally prepared myself for the struggle of climbing in. Before I could even grab the door handle, Beau ordered me to stop and back up.
Reluctantly, I did as he asked, even though my growling belly was making me homicidal.
The truck’s engine started with a roar, as expected, but then the truck slowly lowered closer to the ground and a step on the passenger side unfolded—a step just for me.
Beau rolled down the window of the passenger door and gave me a soft smile. “OK, now get in.”
I returned with a little smile of my own, just to be grateful, and put my foot on that first step.
Just because he could be nice sometimes didnotmake him my boyfriend. Beau had wanted a Katie and got stuck with an Olivia. He could live in my fantasies when I had to take care of my pregnancy libido, but I wouldn’t let him in anywhere else.
I couldn’t risk it.
The pregnancy had taken up so much of Olivia’s energy that she could only do one activity per day. On the morning of January 9th, she decided her activity was…going to the dollar store.
