He places the tray on the edge of the bed. “You look pale. I don’t think moving around is a good idea. The doctor said—”
“Yeah, yeah. He said I need to rest. I’ve rested so much I’m getting bedsores.”
He chuckles, and the sound is oh-so-freaking-sexy. “It’s only been two days. You are not getting bedsores.”
“How do you know? You haven’t seen my ass.”
When his gaze dips down to zero in on my bottom half, I regret the words. Because the way he’s looking at me now isn’t to determine the color and health of my skin. More like determining how he can peel my clothes off to give me a full-body examination. One of the good kinds. As much as I’d like for him to do just that, there’s something in the air making my stomach roll.
“What’s that smell?” I screw my nose up.
Hayden sniffs. “Your lunch?”
I turn to look at the tray of food on the bed. Sitting on a plate is a steak surrounded by vegetables. At the sight of the lump of meat, my stomach pitches and I cover my mouth. Darting as fast as I can on an injured ankle and aching body to the adjoining bathroom, I make it in time to throw up this morning’s breakfast.
While emptying my stomach in the toilet bowl, I hear Hayden run the faucet. A few seconds later, something cold is pressed against my neck and his hand is rubbing soothing circles on my back.
When my body expels as much as it can, I flush the toilet, sit back on my feet, and rub my mouth with toilet paper. “I wish you didn’t see that.” As I get to my feet, Hayden holds me by the elbow to help me.
“Are you okay?”
I nod my head, turn on the faucet, fill my mouth with water, swish it around, and spit it into the sink. I brush my teeth, avoiding any eye contact with Hayden. I know he’s worried about me. He’ll probably send me back to bed, call the doctor, and demand I don’t leave the room for the next two months. I dab my mouth with a hand towel, put it back on the vanity counter, and walk into the bedroom. Hayden is close behind.
When I see the food still sitting on the bed, I pause. “Can you take that away please?”
Hayden rushes to the bed, removes the tray, and disappears from the room. A few seconds later, he’s back with eyes filled with worry. “Alyssa, I think I should take you back to the hospital.”
“I’m fine. Throwing up is normal after a concussion,” I say to appease him. I won’t tell him it was the smell of lunch that triggered it. If he suspected nothing else, I’m not filling his head with other ideas. Sitting on the bed, I rest against the headboard.
“What if something is wrong? What if—” He stops midsentence. Color drains from his face. “What if you’re pregnant?” The words are strained, like he’s having difficulty saying them. It didn’t take him long to come to a different conclusion.
What will he do if I tell him I now believe it’s a possibility? With the fear straining his features, I suspect he wouldn’t take the news well. I don’t want to scare him even more until I know for sure. “I’m not pregnant.”
A flash of relief crosses his face. Disappointment at his reaction slices through my heart. Why am I disappointed? I’ve always known he doesn’t want a baby.
“Has the doctor called with the blood test results?” he asks.
“No, not yet.”
“Should you call the hospital and rush them along?”
God, can he cripple my heart more? An unplanned pregnancy is too much for him. What about me? I’ve just landed my dream job. If I’m pregnant, this can ruin everything I’ve worked my ass off to get. But am I sitting here looking like I’m about to go on the scariest roller coaster in the world? No. Because having a baby with the man I love feels natural and right.
“I’m not calling the hospital. They said it can take a couple of days. If I hear nothing by tomorrow, then I’ll check. Okay?”
“Alyssa, I didn’t mean to sound—”
My phone rings.
“Is that the hospital?” he asks, not hiding the hope in his voice.
I reach over, pluck the phone from the nightstand, and glance at the screen. “It’s Harper.”
His shoulders deflate. Does he want to know the results that badly? By the frustration on his face, I’d say yes, he does.
“Hey, Harper. What’s up?”
“Are you up for visitors?” she asks.
