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Blair: He’s not mad, just concerned. He thinks Logan took advantage of you.
I can’t help but snort as I chuckle, recalling how everything played out. I’m certain I was the one who initiated our night together. Well, both nights.
Me: I just LOL’d.
Blair: He’ll get over it.
Me: There’s nothing to get over. We’re not together. We’ll co-parent. It’ll be fine.
Blair: As long as the big jerk stops bringing you ice cream?
Me: Exactly.
Blair: You’re weird. How’s the sickness?
Me: Still there. I’ll probably be throwing up this vanilla and peach swirl he brought me in thirty minutes, ensuring I hate him all over again.
Blair: Your brother is going to get me ice cream.
Me: Hahahaha! My brother is so whipped. *insert whipping motion gif*
Blair: *insert smirking emoji*
Me: Okay, I’m going to finish this ice cream and try not to think about Logan’s abs.
Blair: Good luck with that.
“No shit,” I grumble, picturing those very abs. Then, because my brain is particularly evil tonight, I recall what it was like having his erection pressed against me. The attraction and chemistry we felt several weeks back is still there, alive and well, just below the surface. All it will take is one little spark to light the fuse all over again.
But that can’t happen.
The last thing I need is to let my overactive hormones take charge. Logan must remain tucked firmly in the friend zone, where I don’t think about stripping off his clothes and doing dirty things to his cock. We’re having a baby. That alone adds an incredible layer of complication, which is exactly why there will be no more sex.
But that doesn’t mean I can’t think about it.
I just need to limit how much I picture his naked body. You know, like how adults limit television time to young children.
I can do that. I just need to come up with some sort of schedule.
Logan and his magical cock are only allowed time in my subconscious on Saturdays, between the hours of seven and nine in the evening.
See? Easy-peasy.
I can do this.
My subconscious starts to laugh.
Chapter Eighteen
Logan
By the time Hallie hits twelve weeks, the morning sickness has all but stopped, thankfully, because I hate seeing her miserable. Now that we’ve hit the three-month milestone, she seems to have a regular appetite again, and the fatigue seems to get better with each day that passes.
Today, we’re headed back to the doctor for our second check-up. The internet says we could hear the heartbeat on a Doppler now, and a big part of me is hoping that’s accurate.
Hallie and I have fallen into a routine. As the weather has slowly started to change from the heat of summer to the cooler days and nights of fall, we get together one or two nights a week and share a meal. Turns out, we are perfectly capable of having an enjoyable time with conversation, as long as I’m not being too bossy and all up in her business.
Her words, not mine.
