the only form of communication he really knows.”
“They’ll come around,” he says against my ear. “If not, you know you tried, and that they’ll always regret it.”
I nod my agreement.
“When’s your next doctor’s appointment?”
“Two weeks from tomorrow at eleven. Another ultrasound,” I answer while reaching down to stroke his cock through his thin shorts to make him stop talking about all this depressing shit. I feel his breath rush out of his lungs before he groans. Tonight won’t be his lucky night, but I’ll still make him feel good. It’s the least I can do after he took a punch to the face because of me and helped me keep my mind off the future for a few hours.
Chapter Seven
Senn
Over the past several days, I’ve kept myself too busy to think about anything to do with Abby or being fatherhoodwinked. That’s a word, right? If not, it should be added to Urban Dictionary with my picture next to it. Fatherhoodwinked: adjective - To be told of an impending paternity, begin to get comfortable with it, only to have it yanked right the fuck out from underneath you.
With angry rap music blaring in my ears, I’ve been spending my days grappling with Nate and giving Mace beatings while taking whatever he dishes out to help him prepare for his very first IFC fight. The kid is getting better. A lot better based on how fast he won last night’s fight.
From his sullen, doomsday expression, it’s obvious now that we’re flying back from Vegas that he has a chip on his shoulder. If I had to guess, I would say his chip is named Hailey. After Abby pointed it out, I’m not sure how I didn’t notice that the two of them were together sooner. Now, I can’t say I was all that surprised to hear Mace and Hailey got hitched, or that Mace has already screwed up and is in the dog house.
Sitting next to me in first class thanks to his new IFC contract, his knee hasn’t stopped bouncing and he hasn’t quit spinning the white gold wedding band around his finger since we boarded.
“You’re not gonna try and jump out without a parachute, are you?” I ask him, only partially teasing.
“If we go near New York, it’s a definite possibility,” he replies, deadpan. “We’re cool, right?” he asks, turning slightly in his seat to face me.
“Yeah, we’re cool,” I assure him. Who am I to call foul for someone breaking the bro code? “As long as you don’t ever hurt Hailey again like you did when you made out with the ring girl,” I add.
“Never,” he says. “Never intentionally.”
“You two okay now?” I ask.
“Not even close,” he scoffs, shaking his head. “But I’m not giving up on her. What about you and your baby daddy issues?”
“Abby doesn’t want me in my daughter’s life,” I confess the shitty truth because I need to get it out of my system and I can’t tell my best friend. Linc is perfect daddy material in Abby’s eyes while I’m nothing but gutter trash.
Mace actually smiles for the first time all day. “You’re having a little girl?” he asks, apparently missing the first part of my admission.
“Yeah, pretty sure. Not that I’ll ever see her,” I answer, running my fingers through my hair to tug on a chunk in frustration. God, the shaggy locks are getting long. Maybe it’s time for a cut. For a change. Although, I’m pretty sure it’s gonna take more than a haircut to make Abby see that I can give up women and be a decent father.
“Why won’t you see her?” Mace asks.
I slouch a little lower into my seat, feeling the embarrassment of the past few years living as a don’t-give-a-shit-playboy catching up with me. “I guess she thinks I’ll be a shitty father.”
“I didn’t think you wanted to be a father,” he replies, not trying to be an asshole, I don’t think, just being honest based on the conversation we had the day Abby told me the news by phone.
“I didn’t,” I admit since it’s true. Then I try to figure out the point where
“They’ll come around,” he says against my ear. “If not, you know you tried, and that they’ll always regret it.”
I nod my agreement.
“When’s your next doctor’s appointment?”
“Two weeks from tomorrow at eleven. Another ultrasound,” I answer while reaching down to stroke his cock through his thin shorts to make him stop talking about all this depressing shit. I feel his breath rush out of his lungs before he groans. Tonight won’t be his lucky night, but I’ll still make him feel good. It’s the least I can do after he took a punch to the face because of me and helped me keep my mind off the future for a few hours.
Chapter Seven
Senn
Over the past several days, I’ve kept myself too busy to think about anything to do with Abby or being fatherhoodwinked. That’s a word, right? If not, it should be added to Urban Dictionary with my picture next to it. Fatherhoodwinked: adjective - To be told of an impending paternity, begin to get comfortable with it, only to have it yanked right the fuck out from underneath you.
With angry rap music blaring in my ears, I’ve been spending my days grappling with Nate and giving Mace beatings while taking whatever he dishes out to help him prepare for his very first IFC fight. The kid is getting better. A lot better based on how fast he won last night’s fight.
From his sullen, doomsday expression, it’s obvious now that we’re flying back from Vegas that he has a chip on his shoulder. If I had to guess, I would say his chip is named Hailey. After Abby pointed it out, I’m not sure how I didn’t notice that the two of them were together sooner. Now, I can’t say I was all that surprised to hear Mace and Hailey got hitched, or that Mace has already screwed up and is in the dog house.
Sitting next to me in first class thanks to his new IFC contract, his knee hasn’t stopped bouncing and he hasn’t quit spinning the white gold wedding band around his finger since we boarded.
“You’re not gonna try and jump out without a parachute, are you?” I ask him, only partially teasing.
“If we go near New York, it’s a definite possibility,” he replies, deadpan. “We’re cool, right?” he asks, turning slightly in his seat to face me.
“Yeah, we’re cool,” I assure him. Who am I to call foul for someone breaking the bro code? “As long as you don’t ever hurt Hailey again like you did when you made out with the ring girl,” I add.
“Never,” he says. “Never intentionally.”
“You two okay now?” I ask.
“Not even close,” he scoffs, shaking his head. “But I’m not giving up on her. What about you and your baby daddy issues?”
“Abby doesn’t want me in my daughter’s life,” I confess the shitty truth because I need to get it out of my system and I can’t tell my best friend. Linc is perfect daddy material in Abby’s eyes while I’m nothing but gutter trash.
Mace actually smiles for the first time all day. “You’re having a little girl?” he asks, apparently missing the first part of my admission.
“Yeah, pretty sure. Not that I’ll ever see her,” I answer, running my fingers through my hair to tug on a chunk in frustration. God, the shaggy locks are getting long. Maybe it’s time for a cut. For a change. Although, I’m pretty sure it’s gonna take more than a haircut to make Abby see that I can give up women and be a decent father.
“Why won’t you see her?” Mace asks.
I slouch a little lower into my seat, feeling the embarrassment of the past few years living as a don’t-give-a-shit-playboy catching up with me. “I guess she thinks I’ll be a shitty father.”
“I didn’t think you wanted to be a father,” he replies, not trying to be an asshole, I don’t think, just being honest based on the conversation we had the day Abby told me the news by phone.
“I didn’t,” I admit since it’s true. Then I try to figure out the point where
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