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It didn't.
Looking around, I hiss, "That's not well known knowledge, kindly keep your voice down." My Southern accent comes out even thicker at times like these, when I'm angry or emotional.
"Issac doesn't know?" Riggs asks, actually taking a step back.
I roll my eyes. "Of course Issac knows."
Good Lord, this man. He's so intrusive. It's like he doesn't understand proper etiquette or he just doesn't care.
"Okay, so if you're baking a kid, it's one of theirs, right?"
I look down.
If I'm baking a kid… Really?
"Yes." I sigh. "Not that it's any of your business."
"It's not," Riggs agrees. "But I don't like seeing him blatantly disrespecting you."
"It's not disrespectful. I'm with Issac and Dexter is with whoever he can sweet-talk into his bed on a given night." I grimace.
That sounded bitter. I'm normally not a bitter person.
Riggs frowns. "He hurt you."
"No," I say as adamantly as I can. "Excuse me, sir. I need to use the restroom."
Riggs stares at me for a few seconds. His eyes take in every inch of my face as he studies me. His warm fingers brush my dark hair away from my face as he huffs a sigh.
The pregnancy hormones are getting to me. It's not like I'm unused to Issac and Dex being tender or kind, but I've never had another alpha show the type of gentle care Riggs seems to show all the women around him.
Riggs nods,finallystepping out of my way.
I make my way into the restroom. My head falls back as I lean against the wall.
I'm stronger than this. Pregnancy can be a real bitch.
I can't decide if it's skewing my feelings or just making me a total weakling.
I shake my head, wiping my eyes.
There's no reason to fall apart, none at all. I've got Issacno matter what. Well at least until he meets his omega. Nope, I'm not doing this. I'm not going to wallow in what-ifs.
Not with all the actual bullshit going on with Dexter. It's just hard, I got my hopes up thinking Dex was going to prove me wrong.
I really should have known better.
I rinse my face with cool water, and shuffle from side to side, trying to get my hips to stop aching. I use the bathroom, wash my hands, and head out.
Riggs is there waiting by the wall. The dark blue t-shirt he wears is stretched to capacity over his shoulders and the muscles of his strong chest.
He pushes off the wall, making a strangled sound when he sees me.
At least he doesn't call me out on my red face. Riggs' warm palm frames my back as he walks me back to Issac and the table.
I settle back into Issac's chest, and let out a heavy breath. Issac twists my face up to look at his as his thumb dances over my bottom lip.
"Did he upset you?" he asks in a low, very serious tone.
