Cherrie Lynn - Take Me On

“It’s fine with them if we want to be together,” she said. “But you won’t be moving in with me. I move you in, I’m on my own. Which basically means I’ll have to quit med school and go back to nursing.”

Sighing, he rolled to his stomach, staring sightlessly at the pattern on his drapes. What could he say? He thought of the powerful couple he’d met at the hospital yesterday, and he’d known the very thing that was probably going through her dad’s mind. Looked as if he’d been exactly right.

“You’re not doing that,” he said firmly. Gabby giving up her dreams was unthinkable.

“I mean, it’s not like you and I had even talked about moving in together or anything.”

“Right.” But he’d had hope; it stood to reason that they would eventually, if this thing progressed. He damn sure wouldn’t mind waking up to her every morning. But he couldn’t give her a decent place on what he earned. He’d had roommates back when he lived in Dallas, and they’d still struggled.

“It just sucks that it was laid out there to me like that. My mom…she’s never been that way to me before. It’s always been Brian who got the whole finger-in-the-face thing.”

He thought of his own mom, and the shambles that were left of that relationship. If he could fix it, he would. Gabriella had never had to go it alone, not like him. Hell, she never would. She had beauty and brains to get her by. He’d only had brawn and street smarts. They’d gotten him through some rough shit. She was from an entirely different world altogether, though, and he never, never wanted her to get any taste of his. She couldn’t piss her parents off so severely that they disowned her. She needed them.

She needed them a fuck of a lot more than she needed him. What the hell could he do for her? He damn sure couldn’t earn enough to support them and a baby and put her through medical school.

“I don’t know what to do,” she said miserably.

He stroked her smooth, naked back while she held the sheet to her chest and gazed at him with such forlorn sorrow in her eyes that he almost couldn’t take it.

And worse than any of it, maybe, was his own humiliation. That he wasn’t good enough. It was fucking Earl all over again, telling him he was a worthless piece of shit who would never amount to anything. Hearing it from him, though, Ian could’ve laughed it off—look who was talking, after all. King of the worthless pieces of shit.

Hearing the equivalent from Gabriella’s parents… It cut. It cut him deep as fuck.

So the bastard had been right after all, hadn’t he? Ian had a beautiful woman who wanted to be with him, who wanted to have a child with him, and he couldn’t be what she needed. He would never be the fucking doctor who could give her the dream wedding and everything she wanted. He could almost hear his asshole stepfather laughing at him from beyond the grave.

“I don’t know either,” he said distantly. Raw emotion churned in his gut, old wounds breaking open and oozing. The last thing he wanted was for her to witness it. “But…maybe you should go home tonight. Not because I want you to, baby, but…” He trailed off and sighed as her eyes widened.

“You’re serious? You’re giving in to their bullshit?”

“What else do you want me to say, Gabby? You said yourself you don’t know what to do. I don’t know what the fuck to do, either.”

He expected an explosion. He didn’t get one. Gabby’s shoulders rose with her deep inhale. She looked straight ahead for a moment in a sort of stunned daze, then stood.

Ian grappled for something to say while she dressed. Something to make her feel better, something to soften the blow of the words he’d just uttered. But he’d only be kidding himself, wouldn’t he? He had nothing left.

And it was the best thing for her, for his baby, to maintain their attachment to a rich, powerful family. If he would in any way jeopardize that by his mere presence, then he had to step away.

As the door closed behind her and despair ate a hole in his chest, he didn’t know if he could.

September

Even under the roof of the parking garage, it was hotter than the ninth circle of hell. September in Texas was little better than August, heat-wise—hell, she couldn’t hope for much relief until at least late October. If then. And they were breaking high-temperature records. Gabriella felt as if she were walking uphill through sludge—the journey from her last lecture to her car should’ve been a breeze, but for some reason today, she feared she might collapse before she made it. If it was this bad now, what would it be like when she was eight months along? Nine?

She was absolutely fucking exhausted, and she had a night of reading about the various ailments of the liver ahead of her. Joy, joy. She was being punished for something, she just knew it.

Digging her silenced phone from her bag, she cursed herself again for being such an idiot. Hoping for something, anything, from Ian. Saying he’d changed his mind. That he didn’t give a shit about anything but her. And then…what?

And then she’d have to give up everything she was working toward if she wanted to be with him.

Damn him. It wasn’t as if there weren’t other options. She’d asked if he would be willing to move back, find his own place, get his old job back if he had to, just to be close to her.

“Well, babe, I always had to have roommates before to make it there. I don’t want to do that again.”

But he could stay with her a lot of the time, she’d suggested.

“You don’t need to be worried about someone finding out I’m staying there.”

Her family wasn’t going to stake out her place, for God’s sake. They weren’t the Andrewses. Besides, they were three fucking hours away. So she’d asked when he thought he could come see her.

“It’s been like unbelievably busy. I’ll ask Brian when he can spare me.”

Did he really think she couldn’t check up on that? Brian had told her it hadn’t been any worse than usual; Ian could take off any time he asked.

So it was pretty much official, wasn’t it? She was pregnant and alone. Even her friends here had somewhat drawn away…maybe that was only her imagination, but it sure felt like it. She couldn’t meet them for drinks—well, she could, but what was the point?—and she was sick of calling one of them up only to hear about what they all did the night before. Even Tina, one of her bridesmaids, her refuge when the shit had hit the fan, suddenly seemed too busy to have any time for her. Maybe she was tired of having such a needy friend.

That was fine. Gabby would make it just fine by herself.

As she passed car after car and finally spotted her own, she was even more certain that some transgression in a past life had come back to bite her on the ass. A man leaned casually against the driver’s side door, his attention currently focused down on his cell phone.

Dr. Mark Easton. Former fiancé, almost-husband.

He looked as handsome and cool as ever, as if sweating was too undignified for him. His khakis were perfectly pressed along with his dark blue shirt and tie. He always styled his dark blond hair back in a way that made him look as if he’d stepped off his boat after a day of sailing—effortless and windblown. It was beginning to thin the slightest bit on top, a fact Gabby knew unnerved him but didn’t take away whatsoever from his striking good looks.

Her first impulse was to flee. Hide out and watch until he grew tired of waiting and left. Her second was to hit her panic button and watch him lose that carefully cultivated cool when the blaring horn scared the shit out of him. No sense in the first, though—he would only come back again, and besides, she was melting. She needed to sit, and she needed her car’s air conditioner. She was prepared to go through him, if need be, to attain those things.