Inflame

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FUCK, I'M gonna be a dad.

The thought goes through my mind, and I keep repeating it to myself as I try to process everything that happened since we left the bar.

I begin to replay the last thirty minutes in my head. When Lucy and I left Chris's show tonight, it suddenly dawned on me that she'd been acting weird all night. I figured she was still recovering from the illness that'd been bugging her over the past week because she hadn’t had anything to drink and she’d been quieter than normal. When we got to the parking lot, I tried to press her up against her car, to move in for a kiss, but she pushed me away.

"Not tonight, Kale," she protested—something she rarely does.

"Come on, Lucy," I coaxed, wrapping my arms around her. "We haven't gotten together since you've been sick. I've missed you."

Even though she and I are just the whole friends-with-benefits thing, I do miss her when she's not around. The truth is, if I were ready to settle down, it'd be with someone like her. But for now, we're both comfortable keeping it casual and fun. At least that’s what I kept telling myself.

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