Page 21 of Pregnant By the Playboy

I know I’m likable. Entertaining. The kind of guy people enjoy having around. But lovable? I’m still not sure about that. I fear I’m all flash and no substance, a bit of a mess. If someone really gets to know me, will they want what they see?

“And you don’t love me,” she says. “We’ve spent all of one weekend together.”

“Some people fall in love at first sight.”

“You fell in love when I walked up to you and shoved my tongue down your throat?”

I pretend to think about this as I look Marissa up and down. Today, she’s wearing jeans and a pink sweater—nothing as glamorous as the night I met her, but she’s a beautiful woman, even if she seems a little annoyed with me.

“That’s lust,” she says.

“I know. I don’t love you,” I admit, “but I think I’ll come to love you. I mean, we have great chemistry, and that weekend we spent together was the best time I’d had in months.” I used to be pretty doubtful about my ability to love, but that’s changed in recent months, even if I have doubts that someone could feel that way about me.

Her face softens. “It was pretty great. And now we have to deal with the consequences.”

“We used a condom every time, didn’t we?” I ask, but I’m pretty sure of the answer. I’m always careful about condoms.

“Yeah. Have you ever gotten anyone pregnant before?”

“Not that I know of.” This birth control failure is a first for me.

She looks down. “I got pregnant in undergrad. I terminated it right away. There was no way I was prepared to be a parent.”

I still. “Are you thinking of terminating this one? You said you’re keeping it.”

It’s her choice, of course, but I’ve already become attached to the idea.

“I wasn’t completely sure I would if you weren’t onboard, but I’m definitely keeping it now. I’ve always wanted a child, and I’m at a good place in my life.”

“But you’re not in a good place to get married.”

“To someone I don’t love? Hell no. That’s not an option for me, ever.” She pauses. “I figure I’ll have custody, and you can visit once or twice a week. When the child gets a little older, you can have one weeknight and one or two weekends a month.”

“I want to be more involved.”

“Sure. And you’ll tell your family? You won’t keep this a secret from them?”

“Of course not.”

“I didn’t have any extended family in Canada. I want that for my child.”

“Absolutely.”

She smiles faintly. “I thought you’d want to be a little involved, but not a lot. I figured it wouldn’t fit with your lifestyle.”

“I’m not attached to my lifestyle.”

She shakes her head, not believing me, I expect. “I’m glad you want to be an important part of the child’s life, but I still don’t think you actually want to get married—not that I’d say yes anyway. You’re just overwhelmed by the news and don’t know what to make of it. Besides, you’re not the kind of guy I’d even date.”

I’m not surprised, but it still stings a little. “Why not?”

“Because you’re...you. You’ve always got a different woman in your bed. You’re known for partying all night and jetting off to glamorous locations and doing who knows what kind of drugs.”

“That part is mostly exaggeration.” There was a point when I tried a lot of things, but now, I’m pretty tame.

Which is probably still wild from Marissa’s point of view. The night at Brian’s was an anomaly for her, whereas it was just business as usual for me.

But I’m kind of tired of that life, and I’ve been wanting something to do with myself.