asks.
My cock jerks at the word come . Yes, he’s jonesing to come. No, no, no. “Why?” I inquire.
“To talk.”
Oh yeah. Talk. Does motorboating count as a form of communication? My lips move during it, and sounds are definitely made.
“Okay,” I agree, telling myself I will go and talk without laying a finger on her. My cock disapproves. She’s fucking some other asshole, I remind him. He bets he can fuck her better.
“See you then,” she says before turning on her heel and sauntering out the door. A lot of eyes follow her, making me want to grab a club and play pop-a-motherfucker, pounding in the skulls of these dickheads. That woman really is turning me into a caveman.
…
I may or may not have cut my workout short, so I could get a shower and head straight to Abby’s. The absence of an orange mustang in the parking lot has me feeling a little better about the chance that Luke, the jackass, isn’t hanging around tonight.
Climbing the steps to the second story, I knock on her apartment door and wait. My hair is still damp when I run my fingers through it as I fidget.
“Hey,” Abby says when she opens the door, still wearing the same dress. Not sure if that’s a good thing or bad. Good because…damn. Bad because that fucking dress makes it really hard to concentrate.
“So where’s your boy toy?” I ask as I step into the apartment.
She smiles. “He’ll be over later.”
Lesson: Don’t ask questions you don’t want to hear the answers to.
Cracking my knuckles, I try to move things along. “What did you want to talk about?”
Following her to the white leather sofa, I sit next to her but with plenty of room between us.
“The baby,” she starts. “I’m having it, end of discussion.”
“Yeah, I got that,” I mutter. After thinking about it for three days, I know where she’s coming from. I wish I could change her mind, but Abby’s stubborn and wants to have this baby more than anything. It’s the worst possible decision anyone could make, so I have to respect her a little for not taking what seems like the easiest way out. But that also means that I need to let her know she can count on me, no matter what happens. She needs to hear what I want, now that I’ve had time to figure out exactly what that is.
“I may not be father material now,” I admit. “But I promise you that I’m gonna try and do better, for her. I want to either help you raise this baby or do it myself.”
Abby’s jaw drops open a few seconds before she recovers and shakes her head. “I don’t think you realize how hard it will be to raise a baby on your own. They don’t sleep much. They eat all the time and poop a lot.”
“It must not be that bad if everyone does it,” I point out. “And my schedule is flexible.”
“Who will watch her while you’re at the gym?” she asks.
“That’s what daycares and babysitters are for. Plenty of parents drop their kids off and go to work. Besides, my work day is only four or five hours.”
“A girl is gonna need a mother figure to help raise her.”
“Don’t you have a sister who can help me? And how do you know I won’t eventually settle down? Have a girlfriend? Get married?” I ask.
Abby’s jaw clenches, and she grabs her belly when she looks away. Huh. So she doesn’t like thinking about me with someone else.
“What if she’s a shitty mother?” Ah, so that’s what this is about.
“You think I have bad taste in women?” I remark, pointing out how hypocritical that was.
“She could be a real gold digger, out for your money, and not give a shit about you or the baby.”
“Really?” I ask. “Do I look that stupid? My money is on lockdown. I don’t even know how much I have. No one actually knows how well I get paid for fights.”
“They will if you get better.” She makes a valid point.
“I won’t let a gold digger screw me over.”
“Will you just consider that Linc and Claire might be the best option for providing her
My cock jerks at the word come . Yes, he’s jonesing to come. No, no, no. “Why?” I inquire.
“To talk.”
Oh yeah. Talk. Does motorboating count as a form of communication? My lips move during it, and sounds are definitely made.
“Okay,” I agree, telling myself I will go and talk without laying a finger on her. My cock disapproves. She’s fucking some other asshole, I remind him. He bets he can fuck her better.
“See you then,” she says before turning on her heel and sauntering out the door. A lot of eyes follow her, making me want to grab a club and play pop-a-motherfucker, pounding in the skulls of these dickheads. That woman really is turning me into a caveman.
…
I may or may not have cut my workout short, so I could get a shower and head straight to Abby’s. The absence of an orange mustang in the parking lot has me feeling a little better about the chance that Luke, the jackass, isn’t hanging around tonight.
Climbing the steps to the second story, I knock on her apartment door and wait. My hair is still damp when I run my fingers through it as I fidget.
“Hey,” Abby says when she opens the door, still wearing the same dress. Not sure if that’s a good thing or bad. Good because…damn. Bad because that fucking dress makes it really hard to concentrate.
“So where’s your boy toy?” I ask as I step into the apartment.
She smiles. “He’ll be over later.”
Lesson: Don’t ask questions you don’t want to hear the answers to.
Cracking my knuckles, I try to move things along. “What did you want to talk about?”
Following her to the white leather sofa, I sit next to her but with plenty of room between us.
“The baby,” she starts. “I’m having it, end of discussion.”
“Yeah, I got that,” I mutter. After thinking about it for three days, I know where she’s coming from. I wish I could change her mind, but Abby’s stubborn and wants to have this baby more than anything. It’s the worst possible decision anyone could make, so I have to respect her a little for not taking what seems like the easiest way out. But that also means that I need to let her know she can count on me, no matter what happens. She needs to hear what I want, now that I’ve had time to figure out exactly what that is.
“I may not be father material now,” I admit. “But I promise you that I’m gonna try and do better, for her. I want to either help you raise this baby or do it myself.”
Abby’s jaw drops open a few seconds before she recovers and shakes her head. “I don’t think you realize how hard it will be to raise a baby on your own. They don’t sleep much. They eat all the time and poop a lot.”
“It must not be that bad if everyone does it,” I point out. “And my schedule is flexible.”
“Who will watch her while you’re at the gym?” she asks.
“That’s what daycares and babysitters are for. Plenty of parents drop their kids off and go to work. Besides, my work day is only four or five hours.”
“A girl is gonna need a mother figure to help raise her.”
“Don’t you have a sister who can help me? And how do you know I won’t eventually settle down? Have a girlfriend? Get married?” I ask.
Abby’s jaw clenches, and she grabs her belly when she looks away. Huh. So she doesn’t like thinking about me with someone else.
“What if she’s a shitty mother?” Ah, so that’s what this is about.
“You think I have bad taste in women?” I remark, pointing out how hypocritical that was.
“She could be a real gold digger, out for your money, and not give a shit about you or the baby.”
“Really?” I ask. “Do I look that stupid? My money is on lockdown. I don’t even know how much I have. No one actually knows how well I get paid for fights.”
“They will if you get better.” She makes a valid point.
“I won’t let a gold digger screw me over.”
“Will you just consider that Linc and Claire might be the best option for providing her
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