He got up from the bed in all his naked glory. Jesus, he had an incredible ass. He bent down and grabbed his pants and started pulling them on. What the fuck was happening here?
“You know, Macie, this hard exterior you put on . . . I’m done with it. You wear it like it’s a second skin. It’s god damn ridiculous. And the even bigger problem is that you have sold this bullshit so many times that even you believe that it’s true.”
“What the fuck does that mean, Dodger?” I sat up in the bed and covered my breasts with my arms.
He was yanking his shirt on haphazardly. He stopped to look at me. “It means, I give up. You have pushed me away so many damn times and then cast your little line to reel me back in, that I can’t even count them anymore. I’m done with it. I’m not biting. I’ve always enjoyed a little bit of the playing hard to get, but this is too much. I’ve loved you, and done everything that I possibly can to prove to you that this,”—he motioned his hand between us—“was it for me. You’re my girl, Mace. What just happened wasn’t some fucking drunk accident. It happened because I wanted it, and you wanted it.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but he hit me with a hard glare.
“No. I’m a grown ass man, and I’m done with the games.” Dodger was almost fully redressed besides the tie that I think he took off in the living room. He moved to stand in front of the door. “I love you. I love everything about you. But I don’t love what you put me through.” His shoulders visibly dropped. “When you’re done denying what I already know, and you’re ready to quit the god damn games, you know where to find me. Until then, I’m fucking over it.”
He grabbed the handle of the door and slammed it shut. What in the ever loving fuck just happened? How did we go from incredible sex, to me being left behind and being scolded? I blinked, staring at the door. Dodger sounded like a scorned woman. Okay sure, I missed him. And yes, I felt every bit of passion that happened tonight. But none of that equated to knowing he was my forever.
Forever . . .
The word rolled through my head. It wasn’t for me. Not right now. If Dodger didn’t like that, well that was just too bad. Sure, I’d thought I could spend forever with him a few times, but no way was I as sure as he was. Settling down wasn’t in the cards now or in the near future. I lived my life for me. I wanted to be free of commitment to him or anyone else.
I got out of bed on shaky legs. My dress was in a pile on the floor and my underwear was halfway under the bed. I quickly put it all on and decided to head back out to the party. My best friend had just gotten married and I needed to make sure that I was there when Keegan and Camden drove away for their honeymoon. Bridesmaid duties were calling me.
Before I left the room, I looked back at the bed I’d just fixed. “Sorry, Dodger. Nothing will make me settle down. Not right now.” And I left.
THIS WAS JUST GREAT. Not only could I not find my other shoe, but I also just stubbed my toe on the edge of my bed. Hopping around like an idiot and cursing every word known to man, I sat down and nearly cried. Resigned, I was going to be late for work. I forgot to wash my favorite scrubs last night, and I’m pretty certain my baby toe now needed to be amputated. Today wasn’t going to be my day, I could already tell. In fact, the last month hasn’t been good for me. I found out something that nearly brought me to my knees. Well, technically it did. On my hands and knees and kept my face in the toilet. Morning sickness was a bitch.
I found out that I was pregnant. Life as I knew it has been hell ever since. This was truly devastating news to me. I was Macie Rosewood. Daughter of Mason Rosewood. My mom was a city council woman, revered and in a place of power. My dad was a retired doctor who sat on the medical board and held a prestigious position. They were very well known around town. Everyone expected me to follow in my dad’s footsteps and be a doctor too, but being an attending physician and making decisions about someone’s life wasn’t something I cared to have resting on my shoulders. It never interested me. I am bossy in my everyday life, but didn’t care to be my own boss. I was good working under someone.
I’ll be the first to tell you that I am slightly self-centered, and vain. Okay, maybe more than slightly, but I knew where my passion lay. I recently graduated from nursing school and helping others is simply put, something I found great enjoyment from. Who would have thought wiping butts and people screaming while they pushed out a human being would be my forte, but it was. And I was damn good at it. Well, there was more to it than that, but at least I was given part of my father’s “care giving” gene. Could be worse I suppose. I could be an interior decorator who gave a rat’s ass about the gazillion shades of red. That’s not to say there certainly isn’t a difference between burgundy, and maroon. Let’s not get crazy, I know the difference. But I certainly wasn’t going to be a mooch living off my daddy’s money the rest of my life. I may be under their roof still, but I can stand on my own two feet. I’m saving up as much of a down payment as I can for a house of my own. Well, that was until this expected news. I now had to wonder if my savings was going to go toward a little rug rat with ten fingers and ten toes.
Yes, I was pregnant. I wasn’t very far along—nine weeks and still in my first trimester. I hadn’t told a soul. Why? Because I had no clue how to even tell the people that needed to know. Actually, it was more like I had no clue what I was even going to do. And if I could manage to keep my face out of the toilet for more than thirty minutes at a time, then maybe I could come up with some sort of game plan.
“Mace, have you seen my Kate Spade bag?” My mom called from the bottom of the stairs, breaking up my negative thoughts.
I sighed. “Try the hall closet by your room.”
“Thanks.”
I closed my eyes tight, trying to refocus my attention. I needed to finish getting ready for work before I was later than I already was. Standing up, I finished slipping on my shoes, and combed through my long brunette hair with my fingers. Bothering with a brush was futile. This mop was going to end up in a messy bun by the time I started work anyway. Grabbing my keys and tote that held a pair of clothes and a couple snacks to help settle my stomach, I rushed downstairs and out the front door before either of my parents could see me. No reason for them to wonder why I looked so flushed.
Starting my Beemer, I sank back into my seat and let the hum of the engine soothe my aching stomach. Let’s get this twelve-hour shift started.