Page 27 of Her Age Gap Match

“How are you feeling, honey?” Elle asked.

“Like a person who is thirty-two weeks pregnant.”

"Like a person who is thirty-two weeks pregnant."

"Three more weeks until she's technically full term," Marco said, sitting beside her.

"Seven more weeks until I evict her regardless," Dee said.

Elle set a plate of pancakes in the center of the table and everyone reached for them in the way families do — no ceremony, just hands and forks and someone asking someone else to pass the syrup. Cassius opened Dee's bowl and spooned tangerines into a smaller dish, slid it toward her without being asked. Marco poured her water. The sports recap was still going somewhere in the background.

I ate.

The conversation moved the way it always did on Saturdays — easy and overlapping, nobody finishing a sentence before someone else started one. Baby names came up and got shot down. Cassius had a new assignment, something out of state. Kim had thoughts about the parking situation on their street that she had apparently been saving for a captive audience.

I listened. Ate my pancakes.

Participated enough so no one would know what I was thinking about.

Because what I was thinking…it was about a compatibility report. Long-term thinking. That I had marked, yes, I want kids, on my intake form…and that Poppy must have marked that in the affirmative too.

I was thinking about Poppy in my kitchen, kissing her on the counter.

About if my sheets would smell like her perfume next week. Sooner.

About her round with my baby, me looking at her like Marco looked at Dee.

“You okay?” Elle asked under her breath from where she sat next to me. “You just…you look good, but I worry.”

“I’m good,” I nodded. “I promise.”

CHAPTER 9

Poppy

He wanted us to pace ourselves. Didn’t want to rush, even though I knew.

But that didn’t mean we couldn’t text.

And that’s exactly what we did. For the rest of the weekend, we kept up with each other—how are you’s first thing in the morning, what are you up to, silly little mundane updates. I got wrapped up in it. I felt like I was flying. Like my life was a love story and this was all tumbling toward this beautiful, perfect moment⁠—

When he would take me to bed.

I wanted it so badly I could barely sleep.

I needed to sleep Sunday night—had to be in the office at nine on Monday—but I couldn’t. I lay in bed tossing and turning, knowing I would be sleeping perfectly well in Johnny’s apartment, also aware he was insistent we take our time.

I rolled over and grabbed my phone, pulling up our text thread.

POPPY

You up?

It was late. It was stupid. I shouldn’t have texted him, I was going to seem desperate.

My phone rang.

I frowned down at it…saw Johnny’s contact.