AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I shake my head. “I figure I might as well wait it out until the baby arrives.”
She sighs. “Why would that be?”
“Are you trying to kick me out? Am I that much of a nuisance?”
“No, but you have your own life. And I feel like you’ve been neglecting your friends and stuff.”
What started out as me wanting to protect her turned into me moving in to do just that, but once I got there, I realized that I’ve already missed so much of this pregnancy, and I don’t want to miss any more. I never would’ve guessed that domestic life was kinda cool. Maybe it’s Adeline who makes it that way.
Every night she has me watching some dramatic reality TV show where we make predictions about how things will go. I either make dinner or we order in. I don’t have a lot of cooking skills—I sort of used up my best the first night I cooked for her. But as much as I’m not Bobby Flay, she isn’t Julia Child.
“I’m not neglecting anything.” Honestly, Miles and Bryce are probably all over one another since they got engaged on their trip away for her parents’ wedding, and Cooper spends every available minute with Ellery. If I were being my usual self, I’d be going out to clubs and bars or sporting events, probably getting myself into trouble. “As long as I get my workouts in, I’m good.”
She nods. “Okay, then, I have a job for you.”
“Anything.” I don’t know why, but I love it when she asks me to do something for her.
“Paint the baby’s room.” I open my mouth, but she continues before I get a chance to remind her that my mom paid an interior decorator to take care of everything. “I want us to do it. Or me, but I already know you’re not going to let me get up on a ladder to paint. Besides, I’m trying to work all the way up to delivery. That way I can use my family leave now and a little after summer.”
I nod. “Okay then, what color do you want?”
“I’m thinking a buttery yellow.”
I chuckle. “And you want me to pick out this buttery yellow?” The fuck if I know what makes a yellow buttery.
“I’m not really a picky person. I trust you.” She smiles all sweetly. Yeah, there’s a lot she’s not particular about, but she only eats a certain type of bread at home, and her yogurt and granola are the same brands, so there are some things she’s particular about.
“You better tell Shaylene that I’ll be coming into the school with samples later today, and she better let me in.”
“If you’re really worried, just do a few paint samples on the wall and we can decide tonight.” She opens her door and gets out. A kid passing by says hello to her, and she waves. “Hi, Micah.” Then she looks back into the vehicle. “I forgot, I have to oversee the basketball game tonight. So, I won’t be ready to leave until six thirty or so.”
“Basketball sounds fun.”
She scrunches her forehead. “I mean, it is the championship. Us against our rivals.”
“I’ll be here. If you don’t mind, that is?” I hate to admit it, but a little live sports action sounds nice even if it’s middle schoolers. We rarely go out in public because I hate seeing her read those damn comments afterward, even if she says she’s over them.
“Not at all. I’m sure the girls will love it.” She smiles.
“Girls?”
She chuckles and shakes her head. “Assumed it was boys’ basketball, did you, Siska?” She’s never been this playful with me, referring to me by my last name, and I find I really like it. “Because something tells me if this little bean is a girl, you’re gonna have her running drills in whatever sport she loves.”
I grin. “Damn right.”
“Have fun doing whatever you’re doing today. See you around four or so?”
“I’ll be here.”
She shuts the door, and I watch her approach the building. She stops just shy of the door, turning, and I see that damn Henry walking up behind her to talk to her. They head into the building together, and I groan.
That’s my baby in her belly, asshole.
My phone rings on the way to the gym in the neighboring town. It was the only place that allowed me to pretty much have it to myself with a trainer I felt was worthy of his title. Truth is, the guy should be in the city making a shit-ton of money training a higher caliber of athlete than he does out here.
“What?” I answer, and Miles laughs.
“Just making sure you’re still alive,” he says.
