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Resisting Roots (Lotus House Book 1) Page 23


  “Sorry, darlin’, I’m a one-woman man, and I’m keeping it that way.”

  DawnMarie scoffed, leaned her fake tits against my chest, and licked up the side of my neck. I couldn’t help it. My dick responded, hardening painfully in my jeans.

  She nibbled on my ear. “Betcha I could change that one woman rule to one woman at a time.” She bit down and tugged.

  It felt good, but not as good as the way my girl touched and kissed me there.

  The liquor swirled heavily in my gut as I blinked.

  Just as I was about to tell DawnMarie to take a hike, I turned my head and zeroed in on the most beautiful woman in the world. And then I couldn’t see her anymore because a sticky pair of lips covered mine, and I was being kissed by a woman who tasted like apple beer. I tried to shove her away, but DawnMarie held on tight. Damn, the bitch was strong. I shook my head, but she took that as her opportunity to swing a leg over mine and hop into my lap.

  “I can’t believe you!”

  Genevieve’s words hit my ears right before a deluge of ice-cold beer slithered right over my head and down into the collar of my shirt, my chest, and all over DawnMarie, who jumped off me so quick, I could barely catch the blur of color as she screamed.

  “You lying, cheating piece of work! And here I was worried about you! I waited up all night, needing to talk to you even though I have to teach in the morning. And here you are at a quarter to two with your mouth on this…this…bimbo!”

  “Gumdrop, please. Listen.” My words sounded strange and came out of my mouth like I had to speak around a mouthful of marbles.

  “No, don’t you call me that. I’m nothing to you. Nothing but the woman whose heart you broke. The woman whose life you tore apart. And the woman who’s pregnant with your baby!” Her voice cracked.

  Another cold bucket of liquid sprayed all over me as her words hit their target. Chills rippled up my arms, and my stomach tightened painfully.

  “I’m going to throw up,” I mumbled, not able to move. I couldn’t even form the words to reply to what she said. The beers and tequila I’d pounded back on an empty stomach after working out were vying for attention.

  The last thing I saw was Clay holding up his hands toward my fiery little blond goddess.

  “You don’t understand. DawnMarie was just playing around…”

  Clay tried but failed to get Genevieve to see reason. Probably because he was as drunk as I was, only he’d tossed back a full meal when we arrived, and I’d forgone the meal to shoot the shit with my teammates. Bad decision. Coming here instead of going home to my woman was bad. Fuck. I was fucking everything up.

  “Get your hands off me. And you”—Genevieve pointed at DawnMarie—“can have him!” She sucked in a breath as tears poured down her face, and she turned and stormed out of the bar.

  I tried to go after her, but my shoes were filled with concrete. Every step felt heavier and harder than the next.

  “Genevieve!” I roared as I fell forward, knocking into the table and hitting something hard and wet that smelled like stale beer.

  * * *

  GENEVIEVE

  “Genevieve, I’m coming in!”

  At first, I flinched, thinking it would be Trent banging down my door, but it wasn’t. It was Amber, my best friend in the whole world. Thank God. She entered the room and scrunched up her nose. I sat up and ran my forearm under my nose to wipe up any remaining snot.

  She sat next to me, her face solemn and kind.

  The last time I’d been this far gone into an emotional tailspin was when my parents died. This wasn’t like that, but it was a death. The death of a relationship and a future I’d wanted more than anything. And worse, I had the proof of that potential future nestled safely within my womb.

  I tried to be strong. Tried to look at her like it was just another day, one where I hadn’t spent the evening crying my eyes out so hard my nose burned and my throat was raw, but I couldn’t be that person. Not now. Not with what I knew, and definitely not in front of my best friend.

  My body shook and my lip trembled. The tears raced down my cheeks and coated Trent’s hoodie I’d wrapped myself in last night for my cryfest.

  “Jesus, Viv, what’s wrong? Is it Trent?”

  I choked out a garbled version of yes.

  “Yes, it’s about Trent?”

  I could barely breathe, so I just nodded and let the tears fall. My nose ran, and I sopped up the tears and snot once again as I tried to suck in air. Sorrow and anger were two walls crumbling in on me as I tried to take a breath.

  “Oh, no, did he break up with you?”

  I shook my head and cried harder, the sobs turning into full-body heaves. I pulled my legs up to my chest and hugged them, planting my head on my knees where I’d have a cubbyhole to hide in.

  Amber petted my head, running her fingers through the dingy strands of my hair. “Did you break up with him?” Her tone was soft and lilting—the most comforting voice in all the world now that my mother was gone.

  I nodded. “Yeah.” I coughed and cried some more, planting my head down and letting it all out.

  For a few minutes, she let me cry, continuing to comfort me and whisper soft words of encouragement. Eventually, she needed more information.

  “Okay. So then, why are you like this?” Slowly she lifted a hand and covered her mouth. “Oh, no!”

  My bottom lip puffed out almost as if programmed. I nodded.

  “He cheated?” she gasped.

  I nodded again. My lip trembled, and I swallowed profusely, trying not to lose it, the “it” being my mind and my meager lunch from yesterday. As it was, my stomach churned and revolted against the lack of food.

  “That low-down dirty dog! I can’t believe he did that. I’m sorry. Thank God you found out now, only a few months in, and not a year down the road. Or worse, after you married and had kids with the loser.” She shook her head and frowned.

  I didn’t respond. Couldn’t. Just stared at her sweet face, her long brown hair and kind green eyes.

  A knowing glint hit her eyes and she tilted her head. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  Licking my lips, I sat up and pushed my dirty hair out of my eyes. “I found out yesterday that…” I couldn’t even form the words. God, this was harder than I thought it would be.

  Amber grabbed both of my hands and held them between us. “Anything. You know you can tell me anything. We’ve been best friends our whole lives. No matter what. Promise.” She leaned down and kissed the top of both of my hands. “Now tell me. You’re scaring the bejeezus out of me.”

  I inhaled deep, two full breaths, and then ripped off the Band-Aid. “Amber, I’m pregnant.”

  “Oh, that’s not so bad…see… You’ll bounce back. Wait…what?” She crushed my hands in a fierce grip.

  “You’re hurting me!” I yanked my hands back.

  Emotions surged over Amber’s face like a tsunami wave crashing against a barren shore. Shock. Happiness. Confusion. Fear. And then…anger. She stood, put her hands on her hips, and started pacing. “That low-down, rotten, dirty, filthy mongrel! I cannot believe this. He got you pregnant and then cheated! What a jerk. Well, you know what?” She turned around, hands on her hips in a girl-next-door version of the Wonder Woman stance. “You’re going to take his booty to the cleaners. You said he’s über rich right?”

  “Yeah, but…”

  She shook her head and sliced the air with her hand. “I’m so tired of men taking advantage of kind women. If we have to, we’ll get a paternity test. Show them exactly who fathered this angel baby. My God…” She ran her hands through her hair. “This is crazy. Are you okay? What did the doctor say?”

  I shrugged. “I’m fine. The baby is six weeks and four days…well, five days now. The heartbeat looked good. Was really fast.” I swallowed. “Would you like to see?” I wanted to show someone the little peanut inside of me.

  “Heck, yeah, I want to see. I’ve got best auntie status no matter w
hat. And just think, down the road, I’ll be able to take care of the little guy or girl.” She smiled.

  I pulled her into my arms. “Thank you. Thank you for loving me. For not judging me.” I sniffed. I didn’t want the tears to come back again.

  Amber held me tight. “Honey, I’d never judge you. Just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean I judge those who choose to have sex. And I definitely don’t judge you for getting pregnant. Things happen in the spur of the moment. I get that. I’m just worried about you.”

  I let out the breath I was holding. “I’m worried about me, too. This is a huge wrench in the five-year plan. And I’d just gotten back into the swing of things with the house, bills, and my coursework I’m supposed to start next month. I can’t do that now. Using his money…ugh.”

  Lying back down on the bed, I rubbed at my stomach. The tension in my limbs made my entire body feel like a bundle of exposed nerve endings. Everything hurt.

  Amber lay down beside me. “I promise to be there for you and the little one,” she said and crossed her heart.

  The tears came back with a vengeance and slipped down my cheeks. “I promise to let you be there, and to ask for help when I need it.” I crossed my own heart.

  “I love you, Vivvie. You’re the sister I never had.”

  “You’re the sister from a different mister, Amber.”

  She snorted and giggled. Lying there with my best friend, I accepted that this was part of my fate, part of God’s plan. Why he had to be so cruel, I didn’t know. At least, through all of it, I had the love of my sister and brother and my best friend. I had thought at one point that Trent and his family would be part of that, and I guessed they would be eventually, only in a different capacity.

  I rubbed my belly, settling the ache deep inside that stemmed more from the fissure in my heart than from the little life growing inside me.

  Chapter Twenty

  When your root chakra is open and balanced properly, you will feel secure in your world. Average daily tasks will seem effortless, and you will go about your day fully at peace. You should have no doubt or concerns about your place in the world. You will feel protected in your relationships and secure in your finances, career, and future.

  * * *

  TRENT

  “Wake up, you sorry piece of shit!” came a booming voice directly over my face. Raindrops sprinkled against my skin, droplets pooling at the corner of each eye.

  Was I outside?

  I blinked a few times, attempting to open my eyes. The room was so bright, as if a flashlight shining were directly into my eyes. Shading the light with my hand, I tried to sit up. The room spun, and my head ached like I’d been in a fight and lost. Big time.

  “Dude, get up. It’s three in the afternoon. Someone has some serious groveling to do.”

  I recognized that voice.

  “Clay?” My voice sounded thin and hoarse, like my vocal cords had been put through a meat grinder.

  “Yeah, man, get up.” The bed shook around me. “Jesus, you are a lightweight!”

  He continued to move the bed, and if he kept it up, I’d hurl all over him. Serve him right for waking my ass up when I felt like garbage.

  “Dude, fuck off! I need sleep. Shit, where’s Genevieve? My gumdrop will make it all better,” I mumbled, turned over, and rubbed my face into a pillow that smelled of Tide, not like lemon body wash. If I could have coordinated my brain cells enough to move the muscles in my face, I’d have pouted. “Have my girl make me something to soak up the shit rolling in my stomach, will ya?”

  No answer came.

  “Where is she anyway?” I opened an eye and glanced at the room.

  Clay’s face appeared sideways and level with the bed. “She’s not here. You’re at your apartment. We cabbed it here and crashed on the couch. Don’t you remember anything about last night?”

  The act of thinking made my head pound like a drum in a marching band. Flashes of the night before started to stream into my conscious state.

  DawnMarie leaning her fake tits into my chest and licking up the side of my neck.

  Genevieve screaming.

  I can’t believe you.

  You lying, cheating piece of work!

  Liquid pouring over my head.

  I’m nothing to you. Nothing but the woman whose heart you broke.

  Pregnant with your baby.

  The world spinning and going black.

  “Shit, Clay. I am so screwed.” I rubbed a hand over my face, desperately trying to clear the fog.

  Clay sat down on the bed and clapped me on the shoulder. “Yes. Yes, you are. Shall we go grovel?”

  “Fuck, yeah.” I rubbed my fists into my eye sockets and down my face again, the night’s scruff prickling against my palm. A foul odor reached my nostrils as I lifted my arm. Turning my head, I sniffed my underarm and got a rank whiff of beer and tequila. “First, I need to shower.”

  * * *

  “Open up! I know you’re in there,” I hollered at the heavy wooden door to Genevieve’s Berkeley home.

  Finally, the door opened, and I was face-to-face with a tall brunette. Pretty, but plain, nothing like my blond fireball.

  “Didn’t you get the hint after the first twenty knocks that your presence is unwanted?” She blinked and smiled snidely.

  “No. I need to talk to Genevieve.”

  The brunette shook her head. “So you’re the two-timing baseball-playing rich guy who got my best friend pregnant and cheated on her at the first opportunity. Yeah, she’s got absolutely nothing to say to you. Take a hike.”

  I groaned and shuffled my feet, itching to bust through the door. My gumdrop was hurting and in that house, and I needed to fix it.

  “But I need to talk to her. And I didn’t cheat!”

  She jerked her head back. “Really? Kissing some bimbo and allowing her to grind all up on your junk while sitting in your lap, in a public place, while your pregnant girlfriend frets at home waiting to tell you she’s having your baby may not be considered cheating to you”—she pointed an accusing finger—“but to the rest of the world, I assure you, it’s cheating. Now”—this time, she waved at me in dismissal—“carry on with your day. We’ll have our lawyers get in touch with you about child support and the like when the time is right.”

  “Child support? Fuck that!” I growled through clenched teeth, anger spiking fiery hot down my spine.

  “Oh, you’re not gonna pay? We’ll see about that.” Her innocence seemed to slip right off her face as quickly as I could snap my finger. “Paternity tests will prove…”

  “I’m not denying the baby is mine!” I snarled. “I’m denying that she’ll need an attorney. I’m going to be there, right next to her for every second of this pregnancy, and lying in her bed.” I pointed up at the top floor of the house.

  The woman in the doorway huffed and put a hand to her chest. “You’re delusional if you think you’re going to get her to see you as anything other than a lying cheater.” Her words held such disdain they almost burned the edges of my skin.

  I groaned and took a harsh breath. “Look, lady…”

  “Amber.” Bitter contempt filled every letter of her name when she spoke.

  “Amber, right. The best friend. Yeah, she told me about you. I’d looked forward to meeting you, but we always missed each other, you being away at your internship and all the last couple months. Anyway, I need to talk to her. There are things I need to say.”

  Amber smiled a placating smile that didn’t show her teeth—a gesture someone gave a person who was spoiling his day with a load of bullshit. And I was that guy. The guy who’d earned that gesture. Fuck. There was no way I was going to get through to her best friend. I’d have to try something else.

  “Afraid that’s not going to happen any time soon. Genevieve needs some time. She’s got a lot on her plate, as you know, and this new development? Well, that’s going to take some getting used to. I suggest you give it a bit. Wait for her to contact you.”
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  “Yeah, okay. Fine. Just tell her I stopped by and to call me.” I gave her the most pleading puppy-dog look in my arsenal.

  * * *

  Two weeks went by. Two long, fucking weeks of absolutely no contact with Genevieve. I’d called, texted, stopped by every day. The yoga studio wouldn’t even allow me to enter past the main door. This angelic woman around my mother’s age named Crystal came out after I’d yelled the house down. Yogis didn’t like people raising their voices and screeching in their lobby when people were trying to find their Zen spot. Crystal, who apparently owned the joint, offered me a full refund. Turned out that when a person screwed over one of their own, they did not react kindly to that and made it clear I was not welcome in their establishment at that time.

  Out of ideas, I went to her house and sat on her stoop. Two hours passed before the Mustang pulled up and into the drive. I rushed over to the garage and waited as Rowan came out.

  The second he saw me, he scowled. That was not a good sign.

  “What do you want, Trent?” He tried to pass by me quickly, a backpack slung over his shoulder.

  “I need to talk to your sister, man.”

  He made a noise between a scoff and a gag. “For what reason? To make her cry some more? Because that’s all she does. That and vomit. Whatever you did to her broke her heart. Usually, when a guy breaks a girl’s heart and still wants her back, it’s because he cheated. Is that what happened?” His eyes were hard.

  “It wasn’t like that…”

  He pushed past me, shaking his head. “I used to think you were the best thing that ever happened to us. The great Trent Fox.” He held his hands out wide. “Best hitter in all of baseball. Now you’re just a prick who ruined my sister. Leave us alone. And better yet”—he walked back over to me and slammed a set of keys into my hand—“take the car on your way out. I don’t want anything from someone who’d hurt my sister just to get in her panties. I hope the next woman you bed gives you an STD.”