Page 12 of One Baby Daddy
“I’m a nurse. It’s a challenging job, and the hours are brutal. I work in a hospital so I see a lot of things that weigh heavily on me.”
He’s silent for a second before saying, “I can’t imagine. The medical field is a tough one.”
“It is. For the longest time I thought I was going to be a teacher, but somewhere along the way, I switched, deciding to be a nurse. Kind of wish I was grading spelling tests right about now.”
Chuckling, he says, “More than assisting with removing forks from eyes and resetting broken legs?”
“Pretty much.” I smile softly, studying him. He’s engaged, interested with the way his body language points toward me, the lean in of his shoulders, the way his eyes are so intent on mine. He’s different from other men I’ve talked to. Genuine. Real. I like that. And even though Racer can be one of the craziest people I know—regularly—he’s also one of the most decent. It doesn’t surprise me this man, who expressedinstantconcern for Racer’s well-being, has been a friend for years. How he noticed straight away things weren’t all sunshine and roses in Racer’s world. That sort of friend is rare, and I think I’ve discovered a rare gem.
“What’s going on over here?” Racer asks, stumbling into our little conversation. “What did I tell you, man? She’s off limits. Right, Addie Girl?”
“I think you’ve hit your beer and sugar intake for the night.” I pat his rock-hard stomach. How he’s able to maintain his physique when downing a box of Little Debbie snacks a day is beyond me. He’s one of those annoying people.
“Are you and Aaron in cahoots? He said the same thing.” Racer sits behind me and places his chin on my shoulder, wrapping his arms around my waist.
Drunk Racer is turning into touchy-feely Racer. Happens every time.
I pat his arms and say, “Yes, we’re in cahoots.”
Striking a glance at Hayden, I notice his eyes fixed on Racer’s arms intimately wrapped around me. He stiffly smiles and shakes his bottle and says, “I’m going to get a refill.”
When he steps away, I elbow Racer in the gut.
“What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you being so possessive over me right now?”
“Possessive? I’m not being possessive.”
“Racer, you’re practically peeing a circle around me, warding off any guy who comes within ten feet of me.”
“I’m not peeing a circle, but I can if you want me to. Just let me drink one more beer—”
“You’re done with drinking beer tonight.” I shake him off me. “Seriously, what’s going on?”
His eyes are glassed over but I can still see a little bit of common sense floating around in that fogged-up head of his.
“I don’t want you getting hurt, that’s all.”
“Well, I’m a big girl, Racer, and I can take care of myself.”
“Then how come you let Logan hurt you?”
I let out a heavy sigh and sit on the log next to Racer.
“Logan was a mistake, and I got over that quickly. We’re friends now. That’s it. Crossing that line with him was stupid.”
“Yeah, he sure as hell let you know his opinion on the matter. Who was the one there for you? Whose shoulder did you cry on? Mine, which now gives me the right to be super protective over you, because I don’t ever want to see you that upset again, especially over a guy.”
There is a time in everyone’s life where they look back at a decision they made and think, yeah, I probably shouldn’t have done that. Logan was my bad decision.
We were the three musketeers; Emma, Logan, and me. We somehow survived nursing school together and found jobs right out of college. When Emma started becoming serious with Tucker, we saw less of her and more of each other. Dinners led to late nights, which led to a stupid, yet passionate night.
Want to talk about the most awkward morning after ever? It was . . . torture. We sat there, sheets up around our chests, staring at the wall in front of us, wondering what we did, and when Logan’s first words were, “That was a mistake,” it was hard not to take it personally. That’s when I went to Racer and cried it out. I guess you could call that mistake number two, because after a few good cries, we fooled around a little.
I know, I know.
Why is this girl a hussy?That’s what you’re thinking, right? And to tell you the truth, I don’t know why; it’s in my blood I guess. I like comfort and seek it from the wrong people. A therapist could have a field day with me.
And now Racer is super protective. And no, we don’t like each other like that. We both came to the mutual agreement that we’re better off as friends.
