Desperate for her to understand, I pulled up her T-shirt and kissed along her stomach, stating, “And it’s not going anywhere. Promise me. I have real strong feelings about this, Mol. Don’t destroy our God-given angel.” Her silence almost killed me, but I had to make her understand how much this meant to me.
“Promise me I have a say in this. Don’t have an abortion, please.” She couldn’t. God, I couldn’t see her go through that.
I waited, barely breathing, pressing my forehead to her flat stomach until she whispered, “I promise.”
Relief like nothing I’d felt before settled in my bones, and I moved back to take the lips of my girl… the mother of my child.
As soon as our mouths meshed together, the same need that I always felt around my girl shot through my veins like a drug. Ridding Molly of her jeans, I freed myself and in seconds, plunged into her wet warmth.
Wrapping her legs around my waist, Molly moaned into my ear, clawing at my back and murmuring my name.
“I love you, Mol,” I said against her lips.
Tears slipped from her eyes as I pushed into her slowly; she studied my face as I took her, unhurried and slow.
We came together, holding hands, and I swear something within me changed right then. I realized I didn’t need the controlling f**king all the time with Mol; it could be different… I trusted her enough to relinquish my controlling tendencies.
“That’s the softest you’ve ever made love to me. It felt so different,” Molly whispered into my hair falling over her face. Pulling back, our foreheads touched and she smiled. “I loved it.”
“You’re carrying precious cargo now, baby. I need to be more careful with you… with you both.”
A wave of happiness seemed to settle over us both and I sloped to the side, pulling my girl to face me, her eyes bigger than normal behind thick brown frames. I’d been so worried before I hadn’t even noticed that her contacts were gone.
“You look like my old Mol with these glasses and your hair like that. The girl I looked at months ago, on her hands and knees, cussing in that f**kin’ hot accent in humanities block, wearing neon-orange shoes, and I knew, without a shadow of doubt, that she would one day be mine.”
“One day,” Mol teased with a smile, referring to my tattoo.
Swallowing, I confided, “I always wondered if one day I’d have a family, if I’d ever be happy enough with someone… with myself, to have a child.” It was true, but with Molly by my side, the thought didn’t scare me quite so much.
Reaching out and gripping my hand, panic set in Molly’s eyes and she admitted, “Romeo, I don’t think I can be a mother. We haven’t had normal families. We have no idea how to be in a normal family! How the hell can we bring up a child? We’re far too young. What do we have to offer a baby?”
“Something we never had.” Her eyes were as wide as saucers. “Listen to me. Together we can do it. Together we can do anything. We can be good parents.”
“But your football…”
“So what? I’ll get drafted in April and you’ll come with me, with our son or daughter. You can still do your PhD and achieve your dreams. We can have it all. Just please… don’t destroy our child, our first child.” I knew we could make it work if she would only let me try.
“Rome—” She sighed, defeated.
Shaking my head, I covered her mouth with my finger. “I could’ve been destroyed, but my birth mother didn’t. She had me.” I took her hand and laid it against my chest, right above my pounding heart. “I’m here because she chose me, even if she didn’t actually want me. Yeah, my family did a real number, but I got through it and it led me to you, my smart English girl—the girl that saved me. The girl who showed me how to love.”
Her frown line softened and she said, sadly, “Your parents will think I’ve done it on purpose to trap you.”
My parents.
Shit. Just the mention of them had my protective instincts roaring into the stratosphere. “I don’t give a f**k what they’ll think. In fact, I’ve no intention of ever telling them. I was serious when we left their house that night. I’m done with them. You’re my life now; you’re my everything. You and our baby.”
She simply nodded, but I couldn’t get the worry of my parents out of my head. I hadn’t heard from them for months. We’d broken all ties, but if they found out about Molly being pregnant, I didn’t know what they would do. If they would do anything. Maybe they wouldn’t; maybe they really were through with me…
We couldn’t hide it. Hell, Shelly lived in this sorority house. It was rare that they were ever around one another, but they did bump into each other now and again, and when Mol was heavily pregnant, it was going to be kind of hard to ignore a huge belly. And that bitch would go straight and tell my folks. I had no doubt about that.
I knew one thing, and that was that those sadistic f**kers wouldn’t get within a mile of my child; they would never get a chance to sink in their claws. A fleeting thought suddenly made me stiffen.
Mol looked up and narrowed her eyes. “What? What is it?”
Breathing deep, I asked, “What if I turn out like my folks? What if I’m ingrained to be a horrible father? You can’t fight genes, Mol. What if I’m like my daddy? What if I let our child down?”
Pressing a kiss to my lips, Molly pulled back, reassuring me. “You’ll be perfect.”
“But you don’t know that, do you?” I argued, my stomach churning, a sickening fear taking root.
Taking my hand and laying it flat to her stomach, she said softly, “I have also seen children successfully surmounting the effects of an evil inheritance. That is due to purity being an inherent attribute of the soul.”
“Who said that?” I asked, the sincere sentiment from Molly’s lips meaning everything to me. She had complete and utter faith in me and anything I did.
“Gandhi,” she announced and breaking a grin, play punched my shoulder. “And you call yourself a philosopher!”
“Em, no, smartass. I take philosophy as a minor. I’m a business major… and a damn good one too.”
“Whatever, not everyone can be as spectacular as me!” she quipped and then burst into fits of giggles.
“Maybe not, and you’ll be a hell of a spectacular momma too.”