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“He called a cab,” JP said. “I opened the door to find him wheeling himself up here in his wheelchair.”
I looked at the ceiling.
“Jesus Christ.”
“We’re watching a movie, woman. Get over here,” he ordered.
So that was exactly what I did.
I watched a movie.
And I realized that all my worries were now in the past. The only thing that I had to look forward to now was my future.
I absentmindedly ran my hand over the top of my abdomen.
I wasn’t sure yet. I hadn’t had a chance to run any tests, but I was fairly sure that I was carrying a piece of Kobe with me.
One that I was really excited about and couldn’t wait to tell him about once he was all better. Unless he figured it out beforehand.
The man was incredibly attuned to me and noticed when I was having a headache, let alone a pregnancy.
I smiled as I leaned into his side.
Maybe I’d make it a game to see how long I could go without him noticing…
CHAPTER 24
My pen is bigger than yours.
-Text from Folsom to Kobe
FOLSOM
Facing my worst fears—losing a person that I love—all those months ago when Kobe was shot had dampened the soul-shattering terror that constantly lived inside of me.
In the months that followed his accident, I’d continuously stayed by his side until he wouldn’t let me anymore.
Then I worked from home. But I was never far if he needed me, even when he decided to start back at work himself, which meant going into the office.
The first day he’d gone, I’d dropped him off.
The second, he’d hitched a ride with Aodhan. Then Etienne. Followed by the rest of the Gator Bait MC.
Apparently, it was uncool to be dropped off at your office by your fiancé. Who knew?
Today, however, I was going off somewhere on my own and he was the one who couldn’t come with me.
“Don’t worry,” I cupped Kobe’s cheek in my hand. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
He growled in frustration.
Kobe was doing amazing, considering he’d been shot in the face three months ago.
Honestly, nobody had expected him to be doing as well as he was at this point, but the man didn’t have the word “stubborn” at the top of his list of attributes for nothing.
“I wish I could go,” he replied in frustration. “I fuckinghatethis.”
I hated it, too.
