Page 25 of Finding Fate
She puts her hands on her hips as I shove my long legs into my underwear, and then stand to jerk them in place. “How many phones are you going to break over me?”
I smirk, remembering the time some little fifteen-year-old twerp from her school thought it was romantic to ask her out on her Facebook timeline, and not the go out on a date with me asking out, but the will you be my girlfriend so we can hang out at our parents’ house together. What a douche. We were ‘friends’ so it came across my feed. All her little friends kept commenting on it, spreading it around to more people, all while I couldn’t say shit to the little prick that she wasmygirlfriend because parents frown upon their thirteen-year-old daughters being fucked just right by seventeen-year-old boys. I was already pissed off I couldn’t ask her to prom when I saw it, because she wasn’t allowed to ‘date’ yet. Breaking the phone so I’d quit seeing it every damn time I pulled up Facebook seemed like the best option at the time. Deleting the app probably would have been the most reasonable option. I’m never reasonable where Gabby is concerned, though.
I grab the front of my shirt she’s wearing and pull her closer. “As many as necessary until the world knows you’re mine and stops trying to piss me off. It works. It got you to delete that damn post back then and it proved a point last night. It was time to switch to a nationwide company anyway. I’ve been here since May. Having a local carrier and living in another state is worthless. When I’m here I’m on Wi-Fi because my data sucks.”
“Still doesn’t mean you have to waste resources. I’ve had one of those pay as you go phones since I graduated and gave my dad back all his crap he bought. When it ran out I usually waited a couple of months before buying more minutes.”
Gabby goes radio silent for months at a time.
Konnor’s comment in the multipurpose center makes sense now. “You sure as hell are not getting one of those. You can get on my plan where I pay the bill so I know that prick that created such an amazing creature can’t take it and I can track your ass any damn time I want to.”
She grins at me. “Oh, we’re moving up to joint phone service providers and location tracking now? Must be gettin’ serious.” Her eyes dance with mischief. “You gonna read my texts too?”
I fight the smile and fail. “Damn right I am. It’s been serious since the night you first rode shotgun in my truck and then gave me your virginity in the backseat on a late-night backroad.”
She kisses me. “That it has, baby. I’m going to shower if you want to go out.” She turns to walk off.
I grab her hand. “Wait, I’ll come too. It’ll save time.” Her face gives off a hint of pink when she looks at me. “What?”
“Do you remember the first time you took me to your parents’ camp on the river for the weekend so we could be together out in the open? You took me out on the jet ski and we rode all the way to the coastline out in the gulf to see the casinos. We were going to ride to Ship Island but it started pouring down rain, so we went back. Took us about fifteen to twenty minutes to get back, the hard rain stinging as it hit our skin, and by the time we pulled up to your dock we were freezing. You turned on the outdoor shower to warm us up under the hot water instead of tracking water in the house where it would have been colder under the air conditioner. I was wearing a white tee shirt over my bikini. One thing led to another and before long we were naked with only three wooden panels to hide us from anyone that decided to pull up in the carport under the house.”
My breathing is ragged and my heart is beating fast. Images of her leaned back against the wood, soaking wet, her thigh in my hand and lifted to my waist while I thrust in and out of her plays in my mind like a home movie. “The first time we had sex without a condom.”
She smiles, her cheeks flushed. “And?”
Her hands were wrapped around my waist and her head was tipped back. She was breathing heavy. Her blonde hair was sticking to her neck and cheeks, but even with water pouring between us she made sure to kiss me the whole time. That was our thing. Always kissing like we were starving for each other. But then she looked up at me from beneath her long, wet, full, dark-blonde lashes, her dark eyes so clear, and it was that moment I knew she was the girl I was going to marry. My eyes gloss over. I blink fast to clear it. “That was the day I first told you I love you.”
“And you never took it back.”
That damn tear falls anyway. I grab her and pull her against me, hugging her tight. “I’m sorry I gave up,” I tell her, kissing her. “I should have been there the day you turned eighteen. I never stopped loving you.”
She kisses me back, her tears mixing with mine, our emotions pouring out heavily. “I’m sorry I never called. I thought I was protecting you. Everything I’ve ever done was to protect you. My heart was aching and I missed you. I didn’t know how to be happy without you. Promise me you won’t leave me.”
I look down at her, wiping her face. “Why would I leave you? I just got you back.”
“I have to tell you something.”
Her heart is pounding against my chest. “What? Is there a dick somewhere you forgot to tell me about?”
She starts crying harder. “Just promise me we’ll get through this, Maddox.”
What the hell? My nerves are trying to coil. “What is it, Gabby? Just tell me, damn.”
“We have a son.”
“What?” My hands drop from her body and I step back. A wave of nausea rolls in my stomach. I’m breathing so hard I feel like I’m going to pass out.
She runs to her bags in the corner of the room she’s yet to unpack, digs something out, and then brings it back to me, handing over a photo face down. “I got pregnant the day you left, when we met up before you left out to say goodbye. We had sex in the back of your truck just like the first time, remember? Only you didn’t pull out. We have a son. His name is Madden Leroy, after you. I had him when I was fifteen.”
I flip the photo over and sink to my bed, my eyes falling on a baby that looks fucking familiar, only the photo isn’t as aged as the ones in my mom’s photo album. “Jesus Christ,” I whisper, already covering my face to hide my tears. My body is shaking. A bad feeling is sitting at the pit of my stomach. She didn’t hand me a photo of a kid. She handed me a photo of a baby. “Where is he?”
“Maddox,” she whispers, crying harder with every word. “I swear I tried. I begged. I screamed. I did it to protect you. You have to believe me.”
I can barely breathe. “Where the fuck is our son, Gabby?”
“Don’t scream at me!”
I feel like I’m losing my goddamn mind. My whole body is laced in panic. Anxiety is weaved tight through every muscle. “Where?”