I lounge around, hinting at more sex later. Goliath might be a jerk with commitment issues, but that doesn’t mean he’ll throw a naked chick out of his trailer. More than once, anyway.
On my first attempt to lengthen our booty calls, I bring his favorite double-sized chicken fried steak sandwiches and keep them stashed in my giant satchel. Their aroma fills the trailer while I enjoy the body of the man that I desperately want to want me. By the time he’s satisfied and relaxed, I have his stomach growling.
The week after Halloween, I stop hiding the food in my bag. By Thanksgiving, he tells me not to bring anything because he has shit at his place.
Yeah, we’re totally dating!
Three times a week, I arrive at his trailer and pretend we’re building something between us. Goliath was the one who decided I should come on specific days because he’s busy or some shit. I’d be here every day if he let me.
But he doesn’t want that. He needs his space. When I see him at the Saloon, he barely acknowledges me unless I speak directly to him.
This arrangement isn’t enough, and it’s temporary, but I refuse to show any common sense. Cherishing the crumbs that he offers pushes me forward, even knowing how things will end.
For now, he doesn’t fuck anyone else. I’d know if he did. Shasta is a gossipy town, especially within the club circle. There is no way he sticks his dick in a sweet butt without that information getting back to me. He knows that too. I pretend he doesn’t want to be with anyone else and would turn down those chicks even if I said I didn’t mind. Denial is a helluva drug.
Today, Goliath texts to say he doesn’t have anything to eat at his place. If I want food, I need to bring some.
I show up with French onion meatball sandwiches. Thinking back to the beginning of these booty calls, I was nervous about his temper and mine. I hadn’t felt pregnant back then, but I sure as fuck do now.
Bloated and easily thrown into tears, I’m more connected to the pregnancy. It’s still early, though. I’m not even sure what’ll happen between Goliath and me after the holidays, let alone by late spring when our kid is born.
Resting on my side in bed as our bodies enjoy the relaxation that comes from a good fuck, I study Goliath staring upward. He visited his mother yesterday. I don’t know why he still does that. My mom claimed Goliath is a man of habit. Dad then pointed out how she’s only guessing since they don’t know him at all. My father’s hints about wanting to spend time with Goliath aren’t subtle. I try to explain how my relationship involves only booty calls. Dad knows I’m full of shit. Everyone does. Probably even Goliath.
“Your brother texted earlier and told me to come to your house tomorrow for a barbecue,” Goliath mutters, sounding irritated. “I checked with Utah. He ain’t going. Chase isn’t either. Hugh is, but he’s always at your house. Why do I have to go?”
“Why are you asking me and not my brother?”
“You’re the one naked in my bed.”
“True,” I say and roll onto my back. “My dad told Shane to include you more.”
“How come?”
Frowning at him, I ask, “Dude, do you just forget how you knocked me up?”
“Yomp. I do, actually,” he says, smiling at the ceiling. “You don’t look pregnant.”
“I’m getting chunky.”
“Where?” he asks, rolling over and feeling up my coconut for some reason.
“Well, not there.”
Goliath smirks at my tone. “I don’t want to get ambushed at your house.”
“Like physically ambushed?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why would Shane ambush you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Max is a great cook, and Shane is good on the grill. It’ll be fun. No one cares if you talk or goof around. You can just stand in the corner and eat the food and then leave.”
“Well, I guess I don’t have a choice.”
Fighting a pout, I push away his hands. “I’ll tell him that you don’t want to be there, and he’ll let you back out,” I offer, knowing I’m the real reason Shane invited him. My brother wants me to be happy, and he thinks this is helping. Goliath, though, isn’t playing hard to get. He just doesn’t want to be caught.
“Why do you look upset?”
“I’m hormonal.”
Goliath frowns at me while I look at the ceiling and try to imagine our future. How can I co-parent with someone who only wants