Текст книги "Meant for Me"

Автор книги: Faith Sullivan

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“Eric, look at me,” I command, easing my thumb along the top of his hand.

When he finally does, his eyes are filled with fear. Oh God, why is this happening? Why couldn’t I just have a normal pregnancy? Why does my stupid, messed-up body have to torture him like this?

“I’m not going anywhere, okay?” I say, fiercely, gripping his hand. “I’m not going to die.”

“You don’t know that,” he responds as adamantly as I’ve ever seen.

“Listen to me. We don’t even know if there’s anything wrong with the placenta.” I lean forward to grab a fistful of his shirt. “The bleeding might even stop, and it’ll all be fine. All I know is this baby is going to be born when it’s supposed to, and that’s all there is to it.”

He stares at me for a solid minute, his chest expanding and contracting rapidly. He doesn’t want to argue with me, even though he doesn’t agree. He’s never going to have a moment’s peace, knowing that my life is potentially in jeopardy. It’s like reliving his past all over again. The exact type of situation I never wanted to put him in.

“I’m not sick, Eric.” I do my best to encourage him. Anything I can do to rekindle his faith. “I don’t have cancer. I’m not dying.”

“But if we get to the point where it comes to risking your life to save the baby’s, I won’t go through that again. Do you hear me?” he demands as his eyes pierce through me with such sadness. “We’ll end the pregnancy, and we’ll try again another time.”

“I promised you that you would never have to be alone again,” I say shakily. “And I’m not leaving you. No matter what.”

I feel my tears mixing with his as I pull his lips onto mine. It’s a heady kiss full of trepidation and angst and frustration. He breaks away first, choking back a sob as he releases me.

“I know it probably sounds heartless and selfish after the lengths Cassidy went to,” he continues, trying to keep his tears in check in order to say what he has to say. “But it’d be like sacrificing my life as well. I barely made it through something like this once. Please don’t ask me to do it again.”

“Eric—” I groan, not knowing what to say.

“If we find out there is a tear in the placenta this early in the pregnancy and there’s nothing that can be done, then all we have is a waiting game, hoping it doesn’t rupture until we reach twenty-two weeks.” He reaches for my arm, urging me to look at him. “If that’s the case, we’re terminating the pregnancy, and I don’t think anyone would blame us.”

“Of course not,” I mutter, my voice hoarse. “But Eric, when it comes down to it, I don’t think I have it in me to abort this baby. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

“But you’d have me live without you?” The raw anger in his voice fills the room.

“Let’s not cross any bridges before we get to them, okay?” I try to soothe him and defuse his anxiety.

“Ivy, you can’t pretend like this isn’t happening. I’m not going to play the ‘what if’ game with you. Because it’s not a game. It’s a situation with dire consequences, and I’m not losing you. I’m not!” he exclaims, sweeping back his arm and knocking a box of tissues off the bedside table.

“Is everything all right in here?” a nurse asks, knocking before opening the door.

“Yes,” I somehow manage to respond.

“Because I heard some yelling in here and Dr. P. told me that no one was to get you agitated,” she says, glaring at Eric.

“That’s fine because I was just leaving,” Eric remarks snidely, brushing past her.

“Eric, where are you going? They’re going to be discharging me soon,” I protest, leaning back on my elbows.

“I need some air. I won’t be long.” He gazes at me defiantly. “Besides, I don’t think it’s good for me to be around you right now.”

The nurse clucks her tongue, watching him depart.

“Well, if you need anything, sweetie, hit the call button. I’m just waiting on the pharmacy to fill that progesterone prescription that Dr. P. ordered for you. Then we’ll get the ball rolling on your release so you can go home and rest.” She walks over to help fluff up my pillows. “And don’t worry about your man. Guys are terrible when it comes to dealing with emotional situations. They all run off like scared chickens. Let him go outside and mutter to himself for a while. He’ll be better when he comes back in, I promise. I see it every day.”

“He’s kind of a special case,” I admit, not wanting to go into too much detail.

“I know who he is. I know his story,” she says, propping her hands on her hips. “Sure, he’s excited, but he doesn’t have to get you all worked up. And my main concern is you, not him. Like I said, he’ll be fine. Ever since I saw him on the news, I’ve been praying for him.”

“You have?” I ask in bewilderment. “Why?”

“Because I’m a firm believer in the power of prayer,” she states matter-of-factly. “God has a reason behind everything whether we’re able to see it or not. I don’t think anything bad is going to happen to you or that baby.”

“How can you be so sure?” I admire her confidence, but there’s a fine line between being realistically positive and simply delusional.

“What he went through with that girl wasn’t for nothing,” she says, smoothing her mocha-colored hand over my forehead. “What he learned in his time of trouble was earned at the expense of a crippling loss. And honey child, God just ain’t that cruel. That wisdom he gained about life and about himself is gonna carry the two of you through this.”

“That’s a nice way of looking at things,” I answer, not quite sure how to respond to her heartfelt proclamation.

“Nice? Divine inspiration is more like it.” She smiles, the warmth of her laughter filling the broken place in my heart. “Listen to Nurse Wanda now. I know what I’m talking about. I’ve seen a lot of joy and a lot of heartache after working in this hospital for forty years. God only gives you what you can handle, although I don’t know why he keeps on putting that man of yours to the test.”

“Or past the breaking point,” I mumble, wishing I could get out of this bed and comfort him.

“Nah, darlin.’ Not that far. He has you now. He’ll never go down that road again,” Wanda assures me, tucking me back under the covers, just like Eric had done.

“But what if something happens—” I don’t even want to think about it.

“If, if, if—nothing but if with you and him,” she chides, patting me on the head. “God has a plan for each and every one of us. Cling to that and don’t let go. No more ifs. He will guide you through any storm. He will not leave you unprotected.”

“Thank you, Wanda,” I say, smiling up at her. I’m not religious by any means, but her words are definitely giving me something to think about.

“Where’s your mother, child? You’re nothing but a babe yourself. Why ain’t she here, holding your hand?” Wanda glances down at me in concern.

I want to say, “None of your damn business.” But I don’t. From anyone else, it would feel like prying, but I can tell, for whatever reason, Wanda truly cares. She’s not just being nosy.

“Because she’s probably drunk,” I say without emotion. “I moved out when I went away to college, and I never really went back. I worked most summers and stayed in the dorm while everyone else went home. She’s never really been there for me, you know? I still haven’t even told her that I’m pregnant.”

“But you still talk?” Wanda prompts.

“Every once and a while on the phone. She’s usually complaining about how she doesn’t have enough money and that I could be helping her more instead of only being concerned about myself.” I keep talking, unable to stop now that I have a willing audience. “She doesn’t understand why receiving a degree is so important to me, when I could be working two jobs and supporting the both of us.”

“What does your man say about her?” Wanda asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Honestly?” I shrug my shoulders. “They’ve never met. I’ve never even told him that much about her.”

“And he doesn’t ask?”

“He tried to a couple of times, but I usually change the subject or give him a few vague details. She wasn’t the best mother growing up. She hit me a lot when she was tired and hung over. Or else she was out with a different man every night. We never had any money. I remember going to school with holes in my sneakers and wearing secondhand jeans. That’s what made me so determined to make something of myself. And if I’m able to have this baby, I’m going to be there for it. But now Eric’s telling me I have to give it up.”

I collapse into a fresh round of tears as Wanda pats me on the back.

“There there, child. You just get all those bad feelings out of that body of yours and away from that little peanut in your tummy. They’re not doing the two of you any good. You both need to remain strong.” Wanda hands me a tissue to dab my eyes as the door opens.

I look up hoping to see Eric, but it’s just another nurse.

“Wanda, Miss Thompson is good to go. Her prescription was just delivered to the desk and Dr. P. signed off on her discharge papers.” She gives me a quick smile before handing the form over to Wanda.

“Thanks, Carol. Her man isn’t out there, is he? I’m going to need his signature too,” Wanda states, indicating the line where I have to sign.

My stomach drops when I realize Eric is probably paying for this out of pocket. If my medical problems continue, we won’t need Lauren to ruin us. I’ll bankrupt him myself.

“Yeah, he’s by the elevator, pacing like a tomcat,” Carol winks, taking the paper from me.

“Tell him to come back in here if he’s cooled down, but not before. Dr. P. has Miss Thompson under strict orders not to have to deal with any drama from temperamental men.” Wanda nudges my arm, causing me to grin.

“You got it,” Carol says, giggling as she steps out.

“Do you feel better now?” Wanda asks, sliding the curtain around the bed to help me change.

“I do. Thank you, Wanda,” I say wholeheartedly as she helps me untie the straps of the hospital gown. “I really hope I don’t have to wear another one of these any time soon.”

“They’re awful, aren’t they?” Wanda concurs. “Talk about drafty!”

We’re both laughing as Eric walks in.

“Just getting her changed, Mr. Young. We’ll be right with you,” Wanda calls out from behind the curtain.

“No rush. Take your time,” Eric replies, seemingly in better spirits.

“See, I told you,” Wanda mouths. Out loud, she says, “Now, Mr. Young. Miss Thompson lost quite a bit of blood, so she’s going to be a little weak on her feet for the next couple of days. I don’t advise her taking a shower alone, if you catch my drift.” Wanda wiggles her eyebrows at me, and I can only shake my head at her.

“I do.” Eric coughs nervously.

“So you’re going to have to help her, but I’m sure you won’t have any problems doing that, right?” Wanda grins widely, and I pat her arm, signaling her to stop before he runs out of the room again.

“Nope,” he manages to choke out.

“Good, I didn’t think so,” Wanda says, helping me into a pair of ugly sweatpants we had sent up from the gift shop. Unfortunately, the ambulance crew had to cut me out of Eric’s shirt in order to attach leads to my chest to monitor my heart rate. Something I’d rather not think about to be perfectly honest. Knowing that strange guys saw my boobs is a mental image I’d like to forget.

“All right. All set, Mr. Young,” Wanda announces, drawing back the curtain. “Let me have one of the orderlies bring over a wheelchair.”

“That’s not necessary,” Eric says, his eyes fixed on me.

“But sir, she can’t walk all the way—” Wanda objects, but she stops when she sees Eric lift me into his arms.

“The Lord works in mysterious ways,” I counter, tilting my chin in her direction as Eric carries me out the door.

“What?” Eric asks, peering down at me.

“Nothing, just some girl talk,” I respond, winking at Wanda.

“You take care, honey child. I’ll be praying for you,” Wanda says, tapping me lightly on the shoulder before hustling back to the desk.

“Well, she’s full of life,” Eric comments, distracted as he checks to make sure my prescription is safely in his coat pocket.

“That she is,” I answer, stroking the nape of his neck. “In more ways than one.”

No matter what happens, I’m keeping this baby—whether he agrees with me or not. It’s one of those rare moments where I feel at one with Cassidy, connected to her on a level I never would have imagined possible. I get now why she did what she did. My fears are inconsequential when it comes to the sheer power of bringing a new life into the world. A woman would literally die for her child, and I can understand that pull now. I feel it too.

Eric doesn’t get the last word on this. It’s my body, my decision. I don’t want to hurt him, but I’m going to put faith in what Wanda told me. I have to believe there’s some kind of purpose behind all of his pain and suffering. It can’t all be for nothing. It has to count for something.

In my heart of hearts, I know that this baby is destined to do great things. I’m not going to let it down. I will fight for it with everything I’ve got. No one’s going to change my mind no matter the risk—not even Eric.

One way or another, this baby is going to live.

Chapter Seventeen

Eric

“We can just call them. We don’t have to stop over there,” I protest, even though I know it’s already a lost cause as my heart starts to melt while listening to Ivy’s pleas.

“Eric, c’mon. They’re probably worried sick. I promise to stay in the truck. I won’t get out,” Ivy exclaims, naughtily running her hand up and down my thigh, driving me crazy.

“So we’re headed to the garden center then?” Will asks from the driver’s seat as we bounce along the country road.

“You heard the lady,” I reply, defeated. “But only for a short visit. Keep the motor running.”

Ivy’s hand travels to my knee and she gives it a reassuring squeeze. Her eyes light up when I turn my head to look at her. She’s seated between the two of us to prevent her from being jostled too much. But I hear her wince when we hit a particularly nasty rut.

“Slow down, jerkwad!” I bellow at Will, regretting that I agreed to let him drive us home from the hospital.

“Sorry, Ivy,” Will implores, slowing to a crawl. “I’m just not as familiar with every nook and cranny of these shitty roads as ‘John Boy’ here. If you can even call it a road, it’s more like an overgrown trail.”

“Cool it with the Waltons references, asshole,” I mutter back. “Are you okay, Ivy?”

“If it weren’t for the two of you acting like a couple of kids, I’d be fine,” Ivy says, rolling her eyes.

“He started it,” Will interjects, as we see Shep running over the grassy knoll to greet the truck.

“Yeah well, you should know better. This isn’t the Indy 500,” I retort. “And try not to hit my dog while you’re at it.”

“Enough!” Ivy exclaims, putting a hand over each of our mouths. “You’re supposed to be easing my stress level, not adding to it.”

Pulling her hand away, I snicker. “C’mon, pretty boy. Your lover awaits.”

“Lover?” Ivy questions as Ben drives the tractor out of the garage in preparation for tonight’s haunted hayride.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Young,” Will huffs, clearly miffed at me for letting Ivy in on his secret.

“Someone’s a little cranky after last night’s booty call. I don’t think I ever want to step foot in that woodshed again,” I respond, wrinkling my nose. “Not after what must have gone on in there between the two of you.”

“Wait, let me get this straight—Will and Ben?” Ivy stares at me, open-mouthed.

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call it straight,” I counter as Will slams his fist against the horn, causing Shep to yelp and my dad to come running out of the store.

“Shut it, Young,” Will warns as Ben raises his head and glances over at the truck.

“Isn’t he a little young for you, Will?” Ivy asks.

“He’s eighteen,” Will replies haughtily.

“Barely legal,” I mumble under my breath.

“Enough!” Will screams.

I open the door as Ben approaches the truck cautiously.

“Everything okay?” Ben asks, glancing at Ivy and then at Will.

“Just peachy,” Will snipes, sliding out of the truck and storming toward the greenhouse.

“You sure?” Ben questions again. “And I’m not talking about the drama queen.”

“For now,” Ivy says, not wanting to say more. She doesn’t seem to care for Ben. I wonder why.

“How’s it going, little lady? All patched up?” my dad asks with Shep hot on his heels. I called him from the hospital so he knows we didn’t lose the baby. “My tiny speck of a grandchild still hanging in there?”

“It sure is, Frank,” she replies, bestowing on him a dazzling smile. She can’t keep buying into this false hope. I’m not going to let her give in to it. She has to come to terms with just how dangerous things really are. In the meantime, I’m not going to sit here and listen to my dad encourage her.

“I’ll be right back,” I grumble, following Will toward the greenhouse. Ben watches me out of the corner of his eye, but my dad is too preoccupied with talking to Ivy to notice my sudden change in mood. I don’t want to start a war and get her all upset. I just need some space. I feel like I’m going to explode.

When I draw nearer, Will kicks an overturned pail and it clatters against the wall. “Fuck!” he yells at the top of his lungs as I close the door, sealing us in the climate-controlled room.

It’s pretty humid in here. I unzip my jacket and look around. The Christmas poinsettias are coming along nicely. Customers will start purchasing them right after Thanksgiving, so we only have a few more weeks to get them potted and ready for sale. There’s so much that has to get done and I’m already behind. I sigh, easing myself onto a wooden slab holding a row of late-blooming mums. We’ve already had the first frost of the season. No one’s going to want them now. They’re just another lost source of income down the drain.

Will continues his rampage, knocking over a garden hose. He starts issuing a string of profanities as it kicks on, spraying his legs. “Turn this damn thing off!” he calls out, already soaked below the knees. I take my time going over to the spigot, heartily enjoying the show. He tries nudging the nozzle away with his toe but only ends up squirting himself in the face.

“I said you could shower at the garden center, but I didn’t mean inside the greenhouse,” I tease, throwing him a beat-up, old rag to dry off.

“Could this day get any worse?” he sputters, wiping his face.

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Don’t be so sure,” he retorts, rolling up his sleeves.

“Did you talk to Lauren?”

“No,” he exhales, meeting my eyes.

“Why not?” I bear down on him.

“Because there might be another way we can come at her.” Will bends down to recoil the hose. “Ben and I shared some interesting pillow talk last night.”

“Really?” I dig my nails into my clenched fist, desperately trying to remain calm.

“I think we have a common enemy. It appears the Prices got his brother fired from his job at the high school, and he might have some leverage we can use against her.”

“We’re not having this discussion,” I mutter, pacing around the giant puddle on the floor.

“Dude, I know he might have banged Cassidy but—” Will stops as I advance on him.

“Shut the fuck up, Carter!” I yell, tightening my jaw. “We don’t even know if that’s true or just more of Lauren’s bullshit. And until then, I’m not going to waste any time thinking about the past when Ivy could—”

“I get it, man. I do. You have other things to worry about. But you’re going to have to go there eventually. You can’t keep Ben in the dark forever. He’s bound to find out what Lauren’s saying about his brother. You know how this town is.” Will walks over to the panel of windows. His eyes are trained on Ben as he hitches the hay wagon to the tractor. “I just don’t want him to get hurt. He thinks the Prices got his brother fired because of him. He has no clue that he might have been involved with Cassidy.”

“No offense, Will, but right now Ben’s feelings aren’t my top priority.” I join him at the window, peering out as my dad leans up against the truck, chatting with Ivy. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s nice to see you caring about someone besides yourself for a change, but c’mon. You’ve known Ben for like a day? How do you know we can trust him when it comes to pulling one over on Lauren?”

“What do you mean?” Will asks, narrowing his eyes.

“What if, in the meantime, Lauren cuts a deal with his brother? Reinstates his job at the school? Pays him off? He’s going to say anything she tells him to say and we’ll never be able to separate her lies from what really happened between him and Cassidy.” I step closer, watching my breath fog up the glass. “Can you really consider Ben such a valuable ally?”

“Well, when you put it like that…” Will shrugs, lowering his head. “But don’t you want to know if it’s true? What if Cassidy’s baby wasn’t even yours?”

I grab the collar of Will’s shirt, shoving him up against the wall. “Don’t test me, asshole. Not today.”

“All right, dude. Chill’ax, okay?” Will urges, breathing heavily. “But you’re going to have to deal with this shit. I’m just trying to help. It’s not like you have a ton of people you can talk to about it. You need to get your head on straight for Ivy’s sake.”

“Let me be the one to worry about Ivy.” I release my hold on him and he massages his throat. “Stay the fuck out of it. Understand?”

“Bro, you’ve got some serious anger issues you need to work on,” Will remarks, adjusting his shirt. “Just saying.” He retreats, holding up his hands while backing away.

“You don’t think I know that?” I’m disgusted with myself for allowing him to see this side of me. I’m usually so good at keeping it hidden. But after today’s events, my willpower is starting to crack.

“Well, I wouldn’t advise getting back in that truck if you’re just going to go home and take it out on her.” Will’s stare is intense, even as he clutches his side, trying to catch his breath.

He’s right. I have to get a grip on my emotions. I can’t go out there like this. Ivy needs me. I have to be strong for her sake. I can’t let her down.

“She could die, Will,” I spit out, biting my lip to keep my emotions in check.

“I know, man. I know,” Will says consolingly. “But we’re not going to let that happen, right?” He slaps me on the shoulder, encouraging me to suck it up. “Just remember, Ivy isn’t Cassidy.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” I mutter. “I’m realizing that more and more each day. But if the same thing happens—”

“Ut uh, don’t even go there. Just turn yourself around and get the hell out of my sight. I’ve had enough of looking at your ugly mug for one day,” Will smirks at me, gesturing toward the door.

“Don’t you want a ride up to the house?” I ask over my shoulder.

“Nah, I’m gonna stick around here a little longer. See if I can work on obtaining that leverage I mentioned,” Will responds, and I don’t have to turn around to know that he’s staring at Ben. “Don’t wait up.”

I still find it weird that the two guys I was envious of are actually into each other, but I shake my head and let it pass. Whatever makes them happy, I suppose.

Darkness is falling as I approach the truck. Ivy already has the headlights on and the engine running, waiting for me. It appears my father went back inside with Shep. It’s getting colder out, and I rezip my jacket before getting behind the wheel.

“You were gone long,” Ivy comments. The heater’s cranked up full blast and country music is filtering through the speakers.

“Yeah, some things needed sorting out.” I hate keeping things from her, but now is not the time. I’ll fill her in when she’s feeling better. She looks so worn out sitting there, shivering. “Are you still cold?”

“I’m freezing. I feel like I can’t get warm.” She has her hands pressed up against the vents, trying to soak up the heat.

“Come here.” I stretch my arm across the back of the seat, inviting her to curl up next to me until we get home. “I’ll warm you up.”

“Mmmm, just the thing I need,” she giggles, nestling herself against me.

I reach down to take one of her hands in mine. “Ivy! Your hands are like ice.” I hit the brake and lower my arm to rub her tiny hands between mine to get the circulation going. “Is that better?”

“Almost,” she says, looking at me from beneath her eyelashes. “But you know what would really help?”

“What?” I ask, ready to give her whatever she wants.

“Having you in the shower with me,” she responds playfully. “Doctor’s orders.”

“Ivy,” I moan, turning my attention back to the road.

“You seem tense,” she says, studying my reaction. “I don’t know what went down between you and Will back there, but just let it go.”

“Already forgotten,” I reply, smiling down at her.

“Good,” she chuckles, sliding my arm around her shoulders. “Frank is going to keep Shep at his house for a while, so we’ll have the cabin all to ourselves.”

“Ivy, you heard what the doctor said. We can’t—” I protest.

“Have sex. I know,” she grumbles as I pull up to the porch. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy each other.”

“You need to relax,” I admonish, getting out to help her down. “I have no problem helping you wash up, but that’s it. No fooling around.”

“But I want you in there with me,” she demands as I lift her out of the truck, carrying her in my arms. “Naked,” she whispers in my ear, and I immediately feel my dick stiffen.

I climb the porch steps, trying to ignore what she said. She’s already reaching into the front pocket of my jeans, and my arms start to tremble. “Ivy, don’t—” I manage to utter as she fingers me.

“I’m just reaching for your keys, silly,” she feigns innocence. “We have to get in the house.” She draws them out slowly, making sure the jagged edges graze my length along the way. The sensation causes my knees to buckle, forcing me to brace myself against the doorframe. “Don’t drop me,” she laughs, hanging on to me tightly as she slides the key into the knob.

Finally, we’re in and I don’t waste any time, kicking the door shut. So many memories are racing through my head. Straddling her on my lap the first time I kissed her. Pinning her up against the wall the night I rescued her from behind the pizzeria. Tearing her out of her dress before I slipped inside of her. It’s killing me that I can’t do any of those things to her now.

It’s chilly in here. The fire is out. I’ll have to build another one. But first, I have to warm her up. Striding up the steps, I enter our room. The bed is unmade after our abrupt departure this morning. I’m afraid to go in the kitchen. There are probably bloodstains all over the table. I’ll clean it up later. I don’t want Ivy to be reminded of what almost happened, and it strengthens my resolve to keep my hands to myself as I move into the bathroom.

Lowering her gently, I turn on the shower to get the hot water going. She stands before me with a pout on her face. Instead, I bend down and unlace her sneakers. Next, I concentrate on removing her sweatpants as she places her hands on my shoulders. She’s wearing a pair of high-waist briefs the hospital gave her, not one of her sexy thongs. I would normally tease her about her new granny panties, but I’m terrified. What if she’s still bleeding? I gather my courage and start pulling them over her hips. Her breathing increases as the pad that was wedged up against her comes into view. There’s a bright red stain on it, but it’s moderate, nothing heavy. The flow has eased since this morning.

“Eric, I think I need to sit down,” Ivy says, grasping her head. “I feel a little dizzy.”

I shift my weight, putting one arm around her waist to hold her steady. I back her up slowly, placing her onto the toilet. I step away to give her some space while sliding the briefs over her ankles. There are goose bumps covering her legs. The sooner I get her in the shower, the better.

“I have to pee,” she says weakly. “Do you mind waiting outside the door?”

This is one of her little quirks. No matter how intimate we’ve become, she doesn’t like me in the bathroom with her when she has to go—and vice versa. One time I nonchalantly came in to urinate while she was brushing her teeth at the sink and I thought she was going to castrate me on the spot. It’s one of her pet peeves, but now I’m not so sure I should give in to her.

“What if you pass out and hit your head?” I ask, not wanting to leave her side.

“Eric, please. I’m begging you. I can’t hold it anymore,” she whimpers, pushing me away.

Dr. P. said her hormones might be out of whack, especially with that new prescription he put her on. One minute she’s horny, the next she’s crying. Talk about being on an emotional roller coaster. Nothing’s more erratic than the mood swings of a pregnant woman.

I get up without further argument and stand just inside the bedroom. I can just about hear her steady stream over the noise of the shower.

“Close the door!” she yells, mortified.

“Then how I am I going to know when you’re done?” I question her.

“I’ll tell you!” she shouts back.

I know better than to argue with her extreme modesty when it comes to her bathroom habits. There’s no changing her now. She is the way she is. I’ve never really lived with a girl before. I don’t know if they’re all like that or if it’s just her. All I know is that guys could care less who they pee in front of.

A few seconds later, I hear the toilet flush, but I wait for her signal.

“I’m done,” she calls out, so I slip back in. She’s already trying to remove her sweatshirt and I help her pull her arms through. She’s now completely naked as she stands in front of me, self-consciously crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“You don’t have to cover yourself,” I reassure her. “It’s just me.”

“I know, but I feel like some kind of invalid now,” she mutters.

“Hey,” I reply, lifting up her chin to meet my gaze. “You are beautiful.” I kiss her lips softly then bend down to kiss her belly. She runs her fingers through my hair, playing with the ends. I sit back on my knees and look up at her. “Beautiful,” I whisper again.

I see tears glistening in her eyes as I grip her waist and run my thumbs over her thighs. Steam is filling the room as the running water continues to pound against the tub. I better get her in there before the hot water runs out.

I stand up, kicking off my shoes. Quickly, I uncinch my belt and lower my fly. Stepping out of my jeans, I fumble with my socks before yanking my shirt over my head. My face is on fire, knowing she’s watching my every move. I pull back the shower curtain and offer her my hand.