“Yeah,” I say, giving her a pointed look, “but at one time, not all that long ago, you weren’t ready for any of that. You were a hump ’em and dump ’em sort of girl.”
“Woman,” she corrects me. “I was still a woman. And, yes, I know that. So, maybe she could change? If you wanted that?” She narrows her eyes. “Do you even want that, Cam? I mean, it sort of seems like you’re hung up on this girl—no, woman, friend.”
“I barely know her! I mean, fuck, I’m not saying let’s send out wedding invites or name our first fucking kid. I’m just venting.”
As we pull in front of her apartment, she raises an eyebrow. “Have you been with anyone else since her?”
“No,” I say. “Why? What does that matter? I’ve been busy.”
“Have you … you know …” She widens her eyes, looking at my crotch area.
“What?” I look down, confused.
“Like … imagined her. And you. Together. Perhaps while showering.”
“Uh … how many times?” I deadpan. Hell, I’ve revisited the memory of tearing her shirt from her hot-as-sin tits countless times.
Pushing the door open, she points at me and clicks her tongue on the roof of her mouth. “You, my friend, have been shot with one of Cupid’s mind-altering arrows.” Reaching over, she pats my shoulder. “Good luck. And remember, Dane tamed me. That makes anything possible.”
As she walks into her apartment, I drag a hand over my face. I’ve been with a lot of women. What makes this Addison chick any different from any of them?
Well, I’ve replayed fucking her at least ten times … that’s one thing that’s different.
3
Addison
“I really wish you would try to talk to the cross-country coach, baby.” My mom pours a cup of coffee for herself. Filling a second cup, she slides it across the counter. “You miss it.”
“Yeah, right. I’d be the laughingstock. I haven’t run cross-country since junior year of high school. There’re some real heavy hitters here.” I pour some milk and a pound of sugar into the coffee cup before holding it to my lips. “I’m not the runner I once was. Besides, where would I ever find the time?”
“We would make it work,” she says confidently. “Running makes you happy. It’s your escape.”
“I don’t need to escape. I just need to graduate college so I can start making money.” I sigh. “And maybe take a nap.”
“Mommy,” Isla says, tugging on my sweatpants, “I wub you.”
Pulling her up onto my lap, I kiss her cheeks. “I love you too, Isla bug.”
She’s the most adorable little turd I ever did see. She’s dramatic and sometimes a little cranky, but I wouldn’t change her for the world.
“I want a Fwozen birfday.” She nods her head, blonde curls falling in her face.
She got my hair, and even though it’s taken me a long time to really appreciate my hair, I’m happy I passed it onto her. One day, she’ll learn to love it.
“Girlfriend, your birthday is months away.” I put my forehead to hers. “What if Bubble Guppies or Minnie Mouse pulls ahead in the lead again?” I scrunch my nose, glancing at my mom. “Or the dreaded Peppa Pig.”
“Yes … she certainly loves Peppa.” Mom sighs. “I’m surprised she didn’t pick Moana.”
“Ooh, Mommy, I also wuv Bluey!” Isla yells, clapping her hands. “But I’m havin’ a Moana birfday. And … and I’m gonna have a bounce house too!”
“Well, that escalated quickly.” I blow out a breath and put my nose to hers. “Let’s first get through Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the other five thousand holidays, and then we’ll talk about your birthday, okay, babe?”
She stares at me, completely unconvinced. Even at three years old, she can have a full conversation with me better than most grown-ass adults. Heck, she’s my best friend.
“Let’s go on a run, Mommy.” She wraps her hands around my neck. “You push me fast in my stroller, and I can take my snacks.” Releasing me, she points to the floor. “And Teddy. He wants to come too.”
My eyes dart down to Teddy, the gray teddy bear on the floor. She’s had him since she was born. He goes where she goes. For a while, I worried what would happen if she ever lost him. So, to be safe, I ordered two extras on eBay.
When it comes to the dating world, this right here is why I don’t pursue anyone. It’s why I basically told Cam Hardy to shut his mouth and get to the sex part of it. I can’t get emotionally attached to anyone. I have baggage. It’s beautiful, hilarious, and adorable. But it’s baggage nonetheless. And most college kids don’t want to hear me talk about my toddler. And since she’s the bomb and the only thing I really want to talk about, that makes it easy to isolate myself from most people aside from my family. Oh, and Tessa. She and I have been best friends since we were in nursery school. And when I got pregnant in high school, she was one of the few friends I had who didn’t look at me differently.
Even when I told her I was transferring to Brooks University, she wanted to transfer too. In a way, I think she always wanted to live across the country, so maybe this was her chance. She got an apartment just off campus and offered to let us live with her, but my parents moved close to campus, too, and living with them made the most sense. My mom works from home and is a huge help with Isla. In fact, I couldn’t do this college thing if it wasn’t for my parents’ support.
It’s no secret it’s no parent’s dream to have their teenage daughter tell them she’s pregnant. They were disappointed. No denying that. A big part of them felt like I’d thrown my entire life away, being so reckless. And angry. Oh, were they angry.
But above all that disappointment and anger was love. And when Isla’s father didn’t step up to the plate, they did. And since the day I told them I was pregnant, their support has never wavered.
Setting her down on her feet, I nod. “Yes, my lady. Let me go get your chariot and take my princess for a royal run.”
As she runs off, her little feet pitter-pattering on the hardwood floor, my heart squeezes in my chest. No matter how exhausted I am, that little turd makes my whole world go round. Without her, I’d be lost. I’ll never understand why her father didn’t want to be in her life, but it’s his loss. She’s amazing. No, she isn’t just amazing. She’s out of this world. And even though she’s half of him and she might question one day what was wrong with her to make him leave the way he did, I’ll love her enough for the both of us. And the thing is, it isn’t hard to do. Because I’m her mom. And I made that perfect, wild angel baby. In fact, loving her is the easiest thing I have ever done.
As we trudge toward her room to get dressed, I hear my mom call behind me, “Think about it at least. The cross-country thing. You deserve to have something for you, Addy.”
“I thought about it, and kindly, the answer is no. And I do have something for me. Her name starts with an I. She wakes up at the asscrack of dawn and makes me watch way more Disney movies than I’d like to watch,” I call back. “Thanks for the coffee!”