Dash lets out a burst of laughter. “I know. I’ve been thinking about it since I heard Carla’s expecting. This isn’t something I decided overnight.”
“Why haven’t you told me before?” I ask as I take a seat on the couch.
“Because I knew you’d react this way.”
Of course. I mean… fuck.
Dash sits down next to me, and for a moment, we stare at each other. I can see she’s made up her mind, which only increases the panic I’m already feeling. “A fucking sperm bank, Dash?” I shake my head. “Fuck, this is the last thing I expected from you.”
“You know I’ve always wanted children,” she justifies her actions.
Christ, not like this.
“Yeah, but from a damn sperm bank?” I repeat. “It’s…” I struggle to find the words, “It’s so cold… clinical.”
“I don’t care about the process, Christopher. I just want a baby.”
“You’re only twenty-five,” I try to talk some sense into her. “Wait a couple of years.”
“Why are you fighting this?” she asks.
Because it’s a baby. With some stranger.
And what the fuck about me?
First, our studies kept us busy, then work.
Fuck, I thought I had more time.
Shaking my head, I take a couple of seconds to gather my thoughts. “I just don’t want you doing something you’ll regret. What if you have a baby, and then Mr. Right comes along?” I try to play for time, so I can figure out the best way to address the possibility of a relationship between us.
Dash just shrugs. “If that happens, he’ll be fine with it, seeing as he’ll be Mr. Right. Not that he exists.” She leans back and lets out a deep breath. “Besides, I can live without getting married. I have you and my family. The only thing missing from my life is a child. I really want to be a mom.”
I turn my head to look at her. “You really want this?”
Dash nods as she reaches for my hand. Linking our fingers, she says, “It will mean the world to me to have your support.”
I pull her closer so I can put my arm around her shoulders. Pressing a kiss to her hair, I murmur, “If it’s so important to you, then I’ll be there every step of the way.”
But there’s no goddamn way I’m letting her go to a fucking sperm bank. Over my dead body.
My mind begins to race. Just thinking about Dash having some strange guy’s kid… no, she deserves so much more than that. She deserves everything, the whole package. Marriage. A family. The whole fairytale.
And I want to give it to her.
I have to approach this right. One fuck up and it might ruin everything we have.
Chapter 3
DASH
It took me three weeks to find an assistant and then I had to train him. With Cody handling the PA side of things, I can focus on the contracts.
It also means Christopher and I finally have some spare time, and we’re able to resume our weekly dinners.
Christopher is out on my patio, grilling two steaks while I put the finishing touches on the cobb salad. When I’m done, I pour us each a glass of red wine.
When Christopher brings in the meat, I plate our food. I’ve connected my phone with the TV so we can look at some donor profiles while we eat. Taking a seat on the couch, I click on the first one. “Donor number one.”
Race: Caucasian
Ancestry: German
Blood Group: B+
Height: 6.4"
Hair Color: Blonde
Eye Color: Green
Qualifications: BA/Political Science
Occupation: Police Officer
“Seriously?” Christopher mutters, and then he reads over the information. “No.”
“What’s wrong with this one?”
Christopher’s eyes slant my way. “You’re both blonde with green eyes. Your kid will end up looking like a vampire.”
I blink for a couple of seconds. “Seriously? That’s the freaking point. My baby will look like me.”
“No, Dash,” he mutters before cutting into his steak.
I scroll down, then mumble, “Donor number two.”
Race: Multi
Ancestry: French–Norwegian–Scottish–African(Congolese)
Blood Group: O+
Height: 6.2"
Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Brown
Qualifications: Ph.D.
Occupation: Student
Christopher glances over the details then shakes his head.
My eyebrows raise while I wait for him to swallow the bite he took, then he states, “He’s a student, which probably means his balls haven’t dropped.”
Letting out a chuckle, I say, “He has a Ph.D., which means he’s definitely older than twenty-two.”
He shakes his head firmly. “Hell no.”
Rolling my eyes, I scroll to the next one.
Race: Caucasian
Ancestry: Irish-German
Blood Group: A-
Height: 5.11"
Hair Color: Red Wavy
Eye Color: Hazel
Qualifications: BS/Business Administration
Occupation: Server
Christopher lets out a sigh. “Probably has a qualification in bullshit. No.”
Turning off the TV, I look at my unreasonable best friend. “You’re going to have a problem no matter who I show you.” Tilting my head, I ask, “Seeing as no sperm is good enough for my eggs, what do you expect me to do then? I kinda need sperm to make this happen.”
He turns his attention back to his food, which makes me take a bite of my own steak.
Only when we’re done with our meals and I’ve placed the plates and cutlery in the dishwasher does Christopher say, “There’s another option.”
After I’ve filled our wine glasses, I sit down again, then ask, “Like? Adoption?” I shake my head. “I want to experience being pregnant.”
“I wasn’t referring to adopting,” he says.
When our eyes meet, and I see the serious look, I ask, “What other options are left?”
“Using the sperm of someone you know.”
My eyebrows pop up, then I begin to chuckle. “Yeah, I don’t think so. There’s no way I’m asking one of our friends. I don’t want any of our family and friends knowing about this until I’m pregnant. They’ll probably try to talk me out of it.”
Christopher shakes his head, then he asks, “You do realize I’m a man, right?”
My spine instantly straightens, and I stare at Christopher as what he says sinks in. “You’re willing to be the sperm donor? Really?”
Holy shit. That would be perfect. There’s no one I trust more.
Christopher shrugs. “I’d rather be the father than some stranger we know absolutely nothing about. You having a child affects me as well. Instead of being the uncle, who has to be the father anyway, seeing as a donor won’t be a part of the kid's life, it might as well be my sperm.”
I keep staring at Christopher. “Are you sure? It’s a big responsibility.”
Christopher takes a deep breath. “I’ve thought about it since you told me what your plans were last month.”
“What if you meet someone a year from now? I don’t think there’s a woman on this planet who will be okay with the fact that we have a child together. It’s already hard dating because we’re friends,” I remind him of our biggest problem.