Say You Want Me(2)

by Corinne Michaels

Me: Nope. I’m trying out this whole celibacy thing.

Presley: That’s comical. Looks like Wyatt ruined you, huh?

Me: He wishes! It was good but not great.

I’m so full of shit. It wasn’t just good. No, it was the absolute, hands down, most un-freaking-believable sex I’d ever had. The kind that ruined me for all eternity. Where any man who even comes near me won’t hold a candle to the things that man did to my body. He played me as if I were his personal instrument. Every touch, every kiss, every swipe of his glorious tongue was done just to please me. I don’t know how I managed to walk out of there. He rocked my world and then was gone before I woke.

Not all of us have these epic love stories like Presley does. She fell in love with Zachary Hennington when she was still in the womb, I swear. They were kids, figured out they were each other’s lobsters, got engaged before college, and then broke up when Zach got a chance to play pro baseball. He took a contract and left Pres without a backward glance. That was when she met my brother. Todd loved her the minute he laid eyes on her. I threatened to disown him if he thought about it. I was not about to lose my best friend because my brother somehow screwed up. Regardless of my threats, which I thought were very convincing, they ended up married with twins.

Then Todd destroyed everything.

I still haven’t forgiven him for committing suicide, and I hate myself for that, but now I have a void in my heart that won’t ever be fixed because of what he did. He was my best friend and he took himself away without any answers.

My phone buzzes after a few minutes.

Presley: Sorry, I had to help Zach. I love you, Ang. You’re going to be fine. I’ll be waiting for your call.

Me: Love you more. I’ll call with the fated news.

Presley: Dramatic.

I giggle as I hear a knock on the door.

“All right, Angie. I ran a quick test to check your iron, which is a little low, but easily fixable. Your sugar levels are fine, and we’ll send the rest of your blood work out. However, that’s not what has you as sick as you’ve been.” He looks up, and I freeze.

Tears form as I know the news he’s about to deliver. “You found something in my blood or is there something else?” The muscles in my body clench as I try to smother the fear that’s choking me. “Something abnormal?”

The doctor steps forward with a warm smile on his face. “Relax, Angie.”

“Please,” I plead. “Please just say it!”

“You’re pregnant.”

My jaw gapes as I try to reconcile the words he spoke. “What?”

“You’re pregnant,” he repeats.


No, no, no. Nope. I refuse. I can’t be pregnant. I’ve only had sex with one person in the last six months. Jesus Christ.

I shake my head back and forth trying to unhear the words. “I had my period!” I finally shriek. “Last month! I can’t be pregnant. I haven’t had sex with anyone in months! The test is confused. You’re confused.”

If there’s anyone in this world that shouldn’t be allowed to have kids—it’s me. I’ve killed plants, countless goldfish, my cat ran away, and I have never had that internal clock ticking thing.

The doctor places his hand on my arm. “It’s not abnormal to have a period or two. But I checked it twice. You are pregnant. Congratulations.”

The doctor pats my leg and leaves the room. Oh my God.

I don’t even know what to think. I can’t be pregnant. I mean, I guess I am, but this is not okay. Not even a little bit.

I’m not supposed to be in my mid-thirties and pregnant. This isn’t part of the plan.

Presley: Don’t forget to call me when you know something.

I glance at my phone and try to figure out what to say. I guess this would be better in person, plus I need to tell Wyatt. Fuck my life. With shaky fingers, I send out a text.

Me: Looks like I’m coming to Bell Buckle. Might want to make up the bed in your spare room.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE CAPTAIN has turned on the fasten seat belt sign. We are now crossing a zone of turbulence. Please return to your seat and keep your seat belt fastened.”

I cinch the belt so hard that I’m positive I’m going to pass out, then I loosen it as I worry it might hurt the baby. I hate flying. I hate being suspended in the air when, clearly, that is not how humans are meant to be. I’m in a tube of death.

Calm down, Angie. You can do this. It’s no scarier than finding out you were pregnant forty-eight hours ago.

“You okay, darlin’?” A nice man with a large cowboy hat resting on his knee asks.

I nod because I can’t find my voice. My throat is dry and I’m pretty sure my face must resemble Casper’s.

“You don’t look okay.” His drawl becomes deeper with concern. “You ain’t gonna pass out on me, are you?”

“No.” I give him a tight-lipped smile. “I have a lot on my mind.”

Understatement of the year. After leaving the doctor’s office, I took three home pregnancy tests because I truly thought the doctor was wrong. He wasn’t. So, I preceded to eat a gallon of Breyers ice cream. This at least explains the other week when I burst into tears while I was watching Something About Mary, though. I couldn’t figure out what had me so upset, but there I was . . . bawling. No wonder, I’m a hormonal lunatic.

I’ve never been more freaked out than I am now. I’m not sure how the hell I’m going to do this. Any of it. First, I have to tell Wyatt, which is the point of this trip. Do I blurt it out? Do I get him a hat that reads: Daddy across the front? Maybe I should say, “Hey, partner . . . we’re gonna have a kid and we’re both almost forty, so get your walker ready for the high school graduation.” Not that he talks like that, but whatever. I don’t know how he’ll react, but the truth of the matter is—we’re having a baby, which makes me want to cry.

Then I have to figure out how I’m going to be a single mom. I’ve never been more grateful for Erin right now. As soon as I told her about the baby, she immediately told me to take a few days off, and handle coming to Tennessee. Maybe it won’t be so bad.

“I understand that,” the very handsome stranger says. “Are you visiting family?”

“Yes. I’m going to see my sister and my nephews.” And the father of my kid. “They live in a tiny town somewhere in Tennessee,” I explain.