Chapter 5: Nice Guys Give The World's Worst Proposals

So here's the famous Maybe-Baby fight. Hmmmm...it's not quite like Mac told it to Kat and Tamara in the hot tub. At least, not as seen through Adam's eyes....

Adam

Mac has rolled over in her sleep and has practically crawled on top of me. Despite my sleepless night and my nerves, I feel instantly better when she wraps her arms around me and presses her flesh to mine. Her strawberry blonde curls are strewn across my chest, tickling me. She's drooling on me. She's making me hot. I don't mind. I let her sleep.

Because I'm not ready for what happens when she wakes up. I know what's coming.

Except I'm wrong. She wakes with a sigh, her fingers curling against my chest as she yawns and tenses. She raises her head, rests her chin on my chest and gives me the calm killer gaze.

"Something's different," she says quietly.

My heart thuds twice as hard, like Bodie's bass drum. The hand I have against her back flattens, and I hold her tight against me.

"Wh—what? Different...how?" I stammer.

She keeps watching me. "I dunno. This just...feels different."

"Mac—I have to tell you something."

She rolls her eyes, but she grins. She sits up, completely comfortable in her nudity. I get distracted for a second by her beauty—ok, by her tits, but they are beautiful—but then I meet her eyes again.

"Adam, if you're going to profess your feelings again, can it wait until after coffee?"

I raise up in the bed, so I can see her face better. She's still grinning. What  the fuck has gotten into her? The Mac I know would normally be irritated to wake up and find that she had latched onto me like a sloth in her sleep. And now, she's joking around about the things I tried to say to her last night—emotions that would normally have her baring her teeth and growling?

"I don't think so," I say. Any minute she's going to figure out on her own that the condom broke. I mean...she's gonna go pee and...you know. It will be obvious. Unprotected sex is messy.

She tilts her head and crosses her arms. What the fuck—still grinning? "Okay, fine. Just say it. I know you're dying to. Lay it on me, preacher."

I just stare at her. What is she talking about? What is she thinking I'm going to say?

Oh shit. I get it.

"I...I love you?"

Even to myself, I sound like a douche. Her grin melts, her eyes narrow, her face flushes in anger.

I grab both of her hands, to keep her from flouncing off the bad. "No, no, no," I say quickly. "I do. Mac," I let her hands go, and I slide mine into her hair. "Mac, I love you. I love you like the sun and the ocean and the sound of us making music. I love you. You're my warmth and my source and my backbeat." It's not like I haven't practiced, how I would tell her.

Her flashing eyes go round, and the angry flush drains away. She swallows. "Okay," she whispers. "That really wasn't as bad as I thought it would be." She chews on her thumbnail as she looks over my shoulder. "You know Adam, you should write some lyrics sometime. That was pretty good, actually."

I take her hand away from her mouth and kiss it. Shit, what the fuck am I supposed to say now? Yeah, I love you, Sweetheart. But maybe we made a baby last night. Here, take this pill to fix it and let's go get some breakfast.

"I don't suppose you feel the same?" I ask casually.

Her eyes stay on the wall. "I...I want this. Me and you. I want to try. I mean, obviously we need to keep it on the down-low. It's just too much pressure, otherwise. But I would really like it...like it used to be. You know, back in college. Not the last two times..."

I nod. "Yeah. It was good. Really good."

Now she looks at me. "And you know what the best part was?"

I close one eye and squint at her. "I know what you think the best part was."

She nods eagerly and climbs on my lap. "Morning sex."

She's looking down at my dick. It's only semi-hard, which is not a state she would normally expect, with it being morning and her being naked and all. Mac gives me a quizzical look but then it slides wicked. She takes me in hand. "Need a little help there, Adam?"

I still her hand. "In a minute. But there's something else I need to say."

She sighs, but she removes her hand and puts her arms around my neck, propping her elbows on my shoulders as she runs her hand through my hair. She looks patient and...sweet. "Okay. Shoot."

I put my hands on her thighs, squeezing slightly. "Last night...uhhhm...we had a slip-up, Shortcake. The condom broke."

Mac's delicate features are expressionless, but the pink flush is creeping her bare chest. "And you finished?" she whispers in shock.

"I couldn't help it. It happened while I was coming. I swear."

It surprises me, how swift the tears well up in her eyes. Wow, I did not expect that. "Mac—"

She closes her eyes. She shakes her head. She puts a hand on my lips to stop me from talking. I sit there beneath her, waiting, letting her get control of herself. After a minute she opens her eyes and she's got her killer face on. "Ok. I guess that happens sometimes. It's never happened to me before."

"Me either," I say.

Suddenly, she scrambles off me and roots around in the bed clothes. She finds the condom wrapper and examines it. "Where the hell did you get this?"

"From your bag."

"From the outside compartment?"

"No, in the bottom of the main compartment."

"This isn't...mine...not the ones I get, I mean. I don't know where it came from. Goddammit Adam, it's expired. You didn't think to check the fucking expiration date? I knew it felt stiff, hard to put on you. I thought I was just...drunk."

"It was your condom, and you opened it," I remind her. I take the wrapper from her and crumble it up. "Look...this isn't a blame situation. Please don't, Sweetheart. There's no reason for us to be angry with each other."

She nods stiffly and rises from the bed and stalks to the bathroom. The door is not quite a slam, but more like a firm shutting. Shutting me out.

When she returns a few minutes later, she's robed and I've taken the opportunity to put on my pants.

Her eyes go immediately to the emergency birth control on the nightstand. "What the fuck are you doing with that?" she snaps. "You took it from my stuff?"

"Well, I saw you had it, when I was looking for the condom, last night." I pick up the box and the glass, and I offer them to her. "This is nothing...I mean...Mac, things are good between us, today. This doesn't have to change any of that."

Her head moves in a jerky bob. She takes the package. Her hands are shaking as she fumbles to open it. "I knew...as soon as I woke up," she mumbles. "I knew something was different. I felt...I feel...not alone."

The way she mutters that, it breaks my heart. She's not alone. She's never been alone, not since the night we met.

I take the box from her. I open the end, to pull out the bubble pack with the pill, and then for some reason I can't explain, I stuff it the back pocket of my jeans. "Let's talk about this a minute, ok? Let's talk and let me hang onto this while you think about things, ok?"

"What? Give me that, Adam," she say.

"I will, of course I will, but let me just say what I want to say, ok?"

The tears are welling up in her eyes again. "Don't," she croaks.

"Just listen to me a minute, okay? Look I know it's a serious thing, that there's a good chance you could be...I mean I know the timing was right. Or bad, I guess...depending on your perspective."

"How the hell do you know that?" she snaps, dashing away the tears. I reach out to her but she steps back. I hold up my hands in concession.

Because Riley stalks your period, Mac. "I just...know. I pay attention." To Riley's texts.

"Adam—" Her face is reddening.

"No listen. Please. I do love you. I swear. I've loved you since college. And I know it's been rocky since Soundcrush made it, but Mac--that's a job, a gig, a lifestyle. It's not the entirety of our lives, ok? What we are talking about here is something different. I want you to know...I love you and we have options, here. You can take that pill, sure. But you don't...you don't have to take that pill, on my account. If you're not sure that's what you want to do—we could let it ride. Maybe you are, maybe you aren't. But we could take a couple of weeks, think things over. Wait and see."

"Wait and see?" She repeats. "Wait and see. Are you serious. Adam, I could easily be—"

"I know," I tell her. "I know. But right this second, you are freaked out and I am freaked out, and maybe if we let it ride, and we spend the next couple of weeks getting our groove back, we might not feel so freaked out by the possibility."

She's looking at me like I have leprosy or something. "Adam. Are you hearing yourself? In two weeks—even if things are going good between us—we will have a two week old secret relationship that can't ever be anything more than casual because of the band."

I shake my head. "Nothing you said is true there, Mac. I've been in love with you and you've been denying your feelings for me for four years. And why couldn't we have a real relationship? Because Leed made a stupid rule years ago that we immediately ignored? Mac we're not college kids anymore. We're adults—we have more fucking life experience than most people twice our age. We've been around the block. Have you met anybody—fucked anybody—in the last four years--you want more than me? Be fucking honest."

"That is not the point," she hisses. "You are talking about a whole other level. I mean, Jesus—we aren't ready for this. Adam, you can't even say the words—you're dancing all around them...how do you think we could actually—-"

"I can say the words. It's possible we might have conceived last night. If you don't want to take emergency birth control, we might find out in a couple of weeks you are pregnant. I've been lying awake all night, thinking about what that might mean for us. If you find out you are pregnant, and you want to keep it, in nine months we could be having a baby. And I could see it—us with a kid. With a family."

"Adam," her voice is like a wraith's, barely audible.

I step forward, I take her by the shoulders. "All I'm asking you to do is just listen to me for a second. Just imagine. If you've ever thought maybe one day...we might end up there anyway, just take a few days and ask yourself—does it really matter if it's now, or ten years from now? Mac, it's not like we are kids anymore. We party because we can, but we work our asses off in the life we've chosen. We both know neither one of us are like Bodie or Leed-- we are both already getting tired of the wild ride. We are professionals, adults...serious people."

"We could adjust. It wouldn't be the worst thing. We have resources. Our kid would have every experience, every advantage most people could never hope to give their kids. I have lots of family, Mac—we would have support. Our kid would have twelve cousins—my sisters are fucking breeders," I smile. "We could hire help. We could work and travel with our kid. Lots of musicians do. Hell, it must not be so bad—Matt del Marco traveled around the world with three little kids twenty years ago and now he and his wife are having babies again. They travel with an entourage, but they make it work."

Her eyes are watering again. There's a tear hovering on the edge of her golden eyelash."Christ, Adam, are you saying I should have a baby because we are rich and we can hire people to take care of it?"

"Of course not. I'm saying...we could swing it. Easily. And I'm saying..." I brush her face with my fingertips. "I'm saying our kid would be amazing. Your talents and your sweetness...and my unique weirdness,"

Mac is ghostly white, now. I'm afraid she might faint, so I pull her to me. She's limp, pliant, but puts her hand on my heart and she whispers, "Your goodness, you mean..."

That's the first thing she's said that sounded optimistic and not fearful. I wish I knew what she was really thinking, but I can't press her. I know she needs time to process. Still there's one more thing I have to tell her.

"Mac. I would do right by you. If you don't want to take the morning after pill, I don't think we should wait to find out if you are pregnant or not. I think we should...put all the immature bullshit behind us and commit. Why wait for some lifestyle thing to come up like it has in the past and tear us apart again? We have two nights off, after tonight's show. We could fly to Vegas and just do it. Just like Trace, but for a much better reason."

All at once, she stiffens in my arms. "What?" Her hand on my chest clenches and she scratches me as she shoves me away hard. "What the fuck, Adam? Having a kid is one thing, but you want to get married just because I might be knocked up? Are you insane? That's the stupidest thing I have ever heard!" She's circling me, stalking me. I turn with her.

"Mac, hold up—"

"Shut-up, Adam. Just shut-up! That's the stupidest thing you've ever said. Let's just go to Vegas and get hitched like the two unhappiest married people we know? Great idea, Adam! You see how great an impulsive marriage worked out for Trace and Ashlynn!"

"Okay, that was a stupid thing to say. Obviously we are nothing like them...it would be nothing like them."

"It would be exactly like them," she hisses. "One of them is in love, and the other one isn't. And they got married for completely the wrong reason!"

I won't lie. That fucking stings. It's obvious to everyone but Trace that Ash is in love with him, but is Mac actually serious—she's comparing herself to Trace in this situation? "You don't love me at all then? That's what you are saying?"

"I'm just saying you gave the world's worst fucking proposal, Adam! Give me that goddamn morning after pill!" she snaps, holding her hand out imperiously.

Motherfucking shit. Why do I always do this? Say the wrong thing? Push too hard? At best, Mac thinks marriage is akin to eternal damnation in a burning abyss. So what I do? Offer to torture her for eternity. Starting tomorrow night, in Sin City.

"Okay, let's take a beat, Sweetheart. I fucked that up bad. Take the world's worst proposal off the table. But don't swallow this pill just because you are pissed off at me."

She picks up my shirt and throws at me. "Is that what you think of me? That I would make a life-altering decision just to punish you? You think I'm some kind of evil bitch like that?" She picks up one of my Docs and threatens me with it.

"I think you are upset and this is fucking serious! So take five, is all I'm saying," I snap back.

She drops the boot. "I'm calm!" She shouts. "Give me my emergency contraception and get the fuck out of my suite!"

"MacKenna...let me just hang onto it for the morning. You can take it up to five days. Just wait until you are clear-headed and not pissed at me."

"Oh my fucking god, are you serious!?!?!? Are you actually withholding my emergency contraception? What the fuck is that? That's manipulative—no, that's abuse! It's my body, my choice—not yours, Preacher!!!"

"I know that, goddammit! This has nothing to do with religious beliefs," I snap. I refuse to let her make this—that. A thing about my upbringing, my family's values. What the fuck does she think—that I don't think she has a right to choose? Does she not know me at all? Suddenly I'm as pissed off at her as she is at me. This is about me and her and our future, nothing else. "All I'm trying to do is be here for you, in this. And you are doing what you always do—hiding behind some made-up drama like a scared little girl!"

She advances on me. I think she's going to slap me, but she stalks right past me and flings open the balcony door. "Give me my goddamn morning after pill or I will throw myself and your spunk that's polluting my body and raping me of my self-determined future off the fucking balcony!"

God, she can be such spiteful little thing when she's mad. She doesn't mean that shit—well not the part about throwing herself off the balcony. It does sound like she thinks I'm toxic to her, though. And did she actual just use the word "rape"? She's gone off the deep end, and now all I want to do is throw lamps off the goddamn balcony and force her to watch them break, to prove the point that she doesn't mean what she says, about hurting herself.

Fuck, get a grip, Heartley. Count to ten. Clearly, I have to reign this shit in before we trash this suite and I get arrested. The guy always gets arrested in domestic violence situations.

"Here." I whip the Plan B out of my pocket and hold it out to her. She doesn't take it from me. I shake the box at her. I do my best to smile at her, to let her know it's ok. "Here. I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to make it worse. I just thought you should know, that I love you, either way. Do whatever you need to do, Shortcake."

Redheads are so expressive in their skin tone. Her face pales again, for the fourth time this morning. It tells me what I need to know. The day she doesn't pale for me, is the day she actually doesn't love me anymore.

"Get the fuck out. Get out of my face, get out of my suite, get out of my life, Adam!!!"

It has not escaped my attention that she won't take the box from me.

"You don't mean that, Mac." I reach for her hand, and put the box in it. She throws it at me. Then she whirls around, and picks up one of my Doc's and throws it at me too. She has a good arm, to be so tiny. I have to bat it away, before it clocks me in the face.

"Stop."

"Who the fuck breaks condoms anyway!?!" She screams. She's roaming around the suite, hurling anything she can at me, but mostly small items—her clothes, my other boot. She runs into the bathroom and back out. "You couldn't find the goddamn box of real condoms? You found the one generic sketch condom that I wouldn't let a fanboy use?" She throws the box of Trojans at me. I pick up the emergency contraception again, and offer it to her again, and she throws again—this time all the way across the suite.

"Aren't you going to take it?" I ask mildly.

"Shut up, Preacher."

I can't help but smile. That makes her even madder. When she throws her phone, I catch it, because it would be more upsetting for her, to deal with a broken phone today. I toss it on the bed.

"Calm down, Sweetheart. Rage isn't good for you. Or you know...the maybe-baby," I gesture toward her belly.

"GET THE FUCK OUT!" She screams.

"I'm going, I'm going. See ya at the morning meeting, Shortcake," I say, as I waltz out without my boots or shirt. I almost hope I meet Leed in the hallway and he recognizes my walk of shame for what it is and we have it out. Because Mac and I certainly aren't done, and I don't think there's going to be anyway to keep it on the down-low this time.

Ha! Mac made Adam seem like a big jerk when she told the story. Not to mention she didn't tell Kat and Tam that she basically forced him to say he loved her...or that she had a weird intuition about the maybe-baby...How do you see Adam and Mac in this situation now? I'd love to hear from you!

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