Page 14 of Rough Hard Fierce (Chicago Underground 1-3)
“What?” The little crease in the middle of his forehead showed he was as surprised as me.
“There’s something I have to tell you first.” I took a deep breath. “I have a kid. A little girl.”
“Okay.” He drew the word out.
What was the norm in a situation like this? I hadn’t dated, hadn’t thought about it. “Okay good or okay bad?”
“Okay, I already knew that.”
“What? How?”
He shrugged. “Car seat.”
I supposed that made sense. And now that I thought about it, there was baby stuff pretty much all over my apartment. More baby furniture than adult furniture. Only my room was spared, because it was empty but for my bed.
“And you’re…cool with that?” I asked.
He scowled. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
I had my doubts. This whole night seemed like a dream. A strange nightmare-turned-fantasy dream. That guy had been the worst, but then I always expected the worst. What I hadn’t expected, what had never happened before, was being saved. Being protected, carried away by a freaking knight in a white truck.
Suddenly I needed a shower. What had been acceptable earlier tonight—that man’s hands on me—now felt entirely wrong. Their very imprint defiled me, and by extension Colin.
“I need to shower,” I blurted out.
Colin nodded like this pinball of a conversation was completely normal. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”
I wondered if he’d really be there when I got out. Maybe he’d think about my issues or just the fact that I came with a kid and bolt out the door the second the water started. The thoughts churned my stomach, but if he left, it would be for the best. Definitely for him.
The water shocked my system. This is really happening, it berated me, so stop fucking around. And I wanted this, wanted Colin, wanted so many things that I didn’t have a right to. But no matter how little I deserved it, I could never stop hoping.
I threw on my softest T-shirt and sweatpants and shuffled into the living room, afraid of what I would find. What I found was Colin with practically a party platter at the kitchen table.
Deli meat and cheese, grapes, and crackers decorated a couple of plates. I recognized it all from my fridge, taken out of packages and laid out like this was a soiree instead of a crummy apartment in Stone Park.
“Thought you might be hungry,” he said.
My stomach grumbled its agreement. “I have to pick up Bailey first. My daughter.”
“Oh,” he said. “Your car is—”
“She’s just upstairs,” I said. “My friend can take me to get my car tomorrow.”
“I’ll have someone drive it back. Don’t worry.”
And for some reason I didn’t. Worrying was a well-worn shoe for me, but in the surreal dark of this night I accepted his word. I accepted him. He’d have someone drive it back. I shouldn’t worry. I was safe.
Shelly was groggy when she let me in. “How’d it go?” she mumbled.
“Brought a man back.”
Her eyes snapped open, full alert. “What?”
She’d been the one to teach me the rules. And by teach, I meant she’d drilled them into me, her lessons replete with stories of women who hadn’t followed the rules. Even though most everyone at the club held their hookups at their apartments, it wasn’t the safe way to play. And considering I had Bailey and also that my dates tended to be assholes of the first order, I played it safe. Relatively speaking.
“Well, he brought me back, technically. I think I’m going to”—what the hell had we agreed to?—“well, to see him again.”
Shelly inspected me for a long moment as the suspicion faded from her face and a knowing smile bloomed. “You are, huh?”
