Make Music With Me by Kristine Allen

Author:Kristine Allen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Straight Wicked Series, Book One
Publisher: Kristine Allen
Published: 2018-07-18T16:00:00+00:00

“Race For the Sun”—3 Doors Down

“Sweetheart, please, you know we didn’t mean for any of this to hurt you. We’d been planning on telling you, it just never seemed like the right time. So have you found another job yet? Because if you haven’t, John needs you. He’s been overwhelmed and lost without you there. I wish you’d reconsider your resignation.” God, my mom wouldn’t let up about this.

I’d turned in my resignation after that day in my mom’s condo. It didn’t feel right, working for John knowing he was my father and had kept that from me my whole life. Maybe my childhood was excusable, but after my dad died? He should have told me. They should have told me. If nothing else, they should have at the very least told me when they had begun their relationship.

It’s not like I would have thought less of them or even been surprised. I mean, it would have made sense to anyone. They had been close for over twenty years. They spent a lot of time together and had a lot in common. After the day I liked to call my “second birthday,” I hadn’t talked to my mom for over three weeks. I’d been so angry and felt so betrayed.

“Mom, we’ve been over this.” It had been a rash decision, and one I regretted making, but I was being stubborn and didn’t want to admit it. The problem with that was, I was quickly burning up my savings as I sat around without a job. Unfortunately, I hadn’t come across any in my searches that came close to the challenge or pay of working for John.

And the last interview I went on? The guy stared at my ever-growing tits the entire time. Seriously, I don’t think he knew I even had eyes. I mean, yeah, my boobs have gotten huge in the past month, but damn.

“Yes, we have. We also discussed you telling that boy about the baby. Have you done that yet?”

Dropping my head to the table, I banged it on the surface a few times.

“Oh my God, Mom, he’s not a boy. And no, I haven’t. I haven’t found the right way to tell him. I just need a little more time.” Even to myself, my words sounded hollow. Weak. The side of my face pressed to the cold tabletop and I closed my eyes.

“Poppy, there isn’t going to be a right time, and you’re running out of it. It’s already been two months since you told us. Well, since you passed out and we found out at the hospital. So you’re what? Over five months now? Six? Baby, think about this. If you don’t tell him, how are you any different than John and I were? You can’t keep this from him, and the longer you wait, the harder it will be. Trust me on this. Learn from our mistakes. Don’t keep a father from his baby or that precious baby from its father.”

Jesus, I hated when my mom was right.

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