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“Right.”
“Just until you fall asleep.”
“Uh-huh.” His words remind me of my exhaustion and my eyes drift shut, seconds passing before I’m on the cusp of sleep already.
“Ten more minutes,” he says.
I mumble, “Sure.”
I’m not sure if it takes another ten minutes before sleep pulls me under, but I do know when it does, Cass hasn’t moved a muscle.
* * *
Shooting pain in my abdomen wakes me up what can’t be more than a couple hours later. Coasting a hand over my belly, I sit up with a groan and my back twinges in solidarity.
Ah, the wonders of pregnancy.
The various growing pains caused me hell with August, mostly because my first pregnancy was an extremely nerve-wracking one; any ache or pain, I thought the worst. When August kicked for the first time, I freaked out and drove myself to the emergency room only for a doctor to oh-so-politely imply I was being an overdramatic dumbass. I’m pretty sure the words‘silly little girl’came out of his mouth. I’m older and wiser now, though; I know real pain from a bump in the night, and I know the cure to most of my ailments involve a hot bath and Tylenol.
The man stirring beside me, however, is not as learned.
“Sunday?” In five seconds flat, he’s wide awake, propped up on an elbow, reaching for me. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”Liar, my body screams, and I restrain a grimace. “Go back to sleep.”
“You just winced,” Cass accuses. “Are you in pain?”
“It’s normal.”
“Pain isn’t normal.”
“Darlin’, I’m growing a person. It’s very normal.”
His frown eases slightly, a hint of a smile breaking through. “Darlin’.”
I flush. “Okay,sunshine.”
“Wasn’t complaining.” Flopping towards me, he very nonchalantly, so innocently eases his jersey upwards to expose my belly. “More kicking?”
“Feel for yourself.”
He doesn’t need to be asked twice; he barely needs to be asked once. Not that I mind. His hands are like a personal heating pad, easing the ache, and I think I’ve established by now that I’m never gonna bitch about him doting. I think it’s a remedy in itself, really; except for how the moment Cass’ skin touches mine, Lionel Messi Lane springs to life and starts hammering my organs with their tiny feet.
“Jesus.” Cass whistles. “Strong, hey?”
Three words and that look of utter awe act like a natural painkiller. And, you know, the inklings of a freakout because Cass Morgan is in my bed. Cass Morgan has never been in my bed; no male other than August has. I’ve been in Cass Morgan’s bed but that’s different, somehow.
Distracted by the man lazily stretched out beside me, I don’t register the knocking on my bedroom door for what it is until it’s too late. Not until I call out, “Yeah?” and hinges squeak as it opens do I realize what I’ve done.
“Oh.” August abruptly halts his entry at the sight of Cass, and as they stare wide-eyed at each other, I can’t tell who looks mortified. “I didn’t know you were here.”
Scrambling to his feet, Cass brushes his hands down his chest, weirdly purposeful like he’s trying to draw attention there—like he’s trying to show August he’s fully clothed. His mouth opens and closes as he chokes on words, and really, I should be equally as panicked but trying not to laugh at his frantic reaction is consuming most of my brain power.
Reigning in my twitching mouth, I calmly address the boy studying my door frame intently. “What’re you doing up?”
“Haven’t slept yet.” His gaze darts from me, to Cass, and back to the door. “Sorry. I heard voices.”
“That’s okay.” I reach out to poke Cass, interrupting his malfunction. “Can you get me some water?”
