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“I can't do this,” I say, going to get up when Knox screams.
“Don't leave me!” he shrieks. “I'm having our baby and it hurts! Help me breathe, Pudding!”
Zayn jumps up from the couch and positions himself in front of Knox, like he's going to catch the baby when it shoots out like a football. Meanwhile, Gage and Stone breathe the way I'm supposed to be telling Knox to do.
Hee hee hoo. Hee hee hoo.
Knox mimics the breathing pattern with the dramatics of a teenager just reaching puberty. As he pretends to push, he pulls the baby out from under his shirt slowly.
“I see the head!” Zayn shouts, putting his hands out like a fucking quarterback. “Dr. Bronsyn, ready for delivery.”
We're all doing the Lamaze breathing technique with the baby halfway out from under his shirt, and he's so invested in his character that he's sweating, when the door opens. Kennedy, Amelia, and Delaney stand there, staring at us like a circus act. We all go still for a moment, before Knox jumps right back into character and makes some sort of animalistic noise as he pulls the baby out from under his shirt. Zayn catches the baby doll as it goes flying, and Knox sags against me like he actually just birthed a child.
Amelia is laughing so hard I think she might actually piss herself. Kennedy looks like she's never been so confused in her life. And Delaney? Well, Delaney just pinches the bridge of her nose and shakes her head.
“Why do I find you attractive?” she murmurs.
He smiles his best Knox smile up at her. “It's you and me forever, Bambi.”
A FEW DAYS LATER, I'm walking through the baby store with Kennedy as we pick up the rest of the things we need. She got a lot from the shower, our friends being rather generous, but Tessa gave her a $1,000 gift card for anything we still need and didn't get. I follow dotingly behind Kennedy, knowing that if I take the lead, we'll just walk in circles. I don't know the first thing about what's needed for a baby, other than clothes and diapers.
We go through the aisles as she picks out things like bedding, a mobile, and pacifiers. When we get near the bottles, I notice a weird looking machine. I pick it up and look it over. There's a mask looking cup thing with a bottle underneath it, and it connects to a machine.
“What is this?” I ask, putting it to my mouth. “Some kind of breathing machine or something?”
Kennedy looks over at me and smirks. “That's a breast pump.”
In an instant, I toss it back on the shelf like it's diseased and start wiping my mouth vigorously. Kennedy chuckles and shakes her head as she starts walking away.
“Relax, dummy,” she calls back. “It's unused.”
I sigh in relief and follow behind her again, refusing to touch anything else.
I've learned my lesson.
WE GET BACK TO my place a few long hours later. I pull into the driveway and can already tell Kennedy is tired. She might not quite be ready to pop yet, but being over halfway through her pregnancy, being on her feet is starting to become more difficult than it used to be.
“Why don't you go inside and sit on the couch,” I suggest. “I'll carry all the bags in.”
She shakes her head. “I can help. Honest. I'm fine.”
I give her a knowing look. “You're not, and that's okay. You're tired from making our tiny human from scratch all day. Go relax. I've got this.”
Her shoulders sag as she gives in, and she smiles thankfully as she climbs out of the car and heads inside. I manage to grab all the bags within three trips, and by the third, Kennedy is fast asleep on the couch.
I walk carefully over to her, making sure not to wake her. She looks so beautiful as she sleeps peacefully. Her shirt rides up slightly and reveals her bump, and I've never felt such a possessiveness over anyone in my life. I want to stand here and guard her as she sleeps, making sure no harm can come to her or our baby.
Grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch, I drape it over her and press a soft kiss to her forehead. Once she's tucked in, I sit on the floor in front of her and lean my head back, allowing myself to feel close to her.
It's warm.
It's comforting.
It's everything.
