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“I’m not just inflating your ego, I’m speaking the truth. And it’s okay, you’ll have time to pay me back.” He closes the magazine. “Actually, it appears we have some time now. This is going pretty slow.” He stands, grabbing the hem of his shirt. “My bare chest gets you all hot, right?”
“Damon,” I say with zero fight in my voice.
“What?” He gives me wide, innocent eyes.
I don’t know what this is, but I’m enjoying flirting with him.
He comes over to my bedside, takes my hand that isn’t hooked to anything, and slides it under his T-shirt. God, his body is so impressive, so ripped, so strong. Leaning over me, he’s millimeters from my lips, and my teeth bite harder on my lip.
“Set that lip free before I do it for you,” he whispers.
My bottom lip pops out.
“There you are!” My mom walks in, and Damon slides back, turning around—trying to adjust himself, I think. “The orderly gave me the third degree. Accused me of being a reporter to get the juice on Damon.”
“He’s got a fan club here,” I say, glancing at him.
Damon turns around. “You made good time.” He sits back down, placing the magazine on his lap.
I chuckle to myself.
“I don’t live far. What is with you two? You’re acting odd.”
“Nothing, Mom, it’s just been hurry up and wait. We’re bored and tired and hungry.”
“Speaking of, why don’t you go get some food for yourself, Damon? Call your parents.” My mom takes off her coat and puts it and her purse on the chair next to him. “I’ll take this shift.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Damon says.
“She’s not having this baby anytime soon. Is she crying in pain?” My mom puts her hand out to say look at her.
“One of us should eat. You go.” I motion toward the door.
He stands and grabs his sweatshirt. “You sure?”
“We’ll call you if anything happens.”
“All right.” He comes over to the side of the bed, leaning down as if he’s going to kiss me, but quickly turns and leaves.
As soon as he’s out the door and we can no longer hear his footsteps, my mom says, “Did you sleep together?”
“No.” I try to sound as though it’s stupid of her to ask, but my mom knows me way too well.
“Liar. I warned you. If you two are going to be successful in this endeavor, you need to keep the physical stuff out of it.”
“You make it sound like we’re going on some space mission. And it was only to spur on labor. And if you want to get technical, there was no actual sex.”
She crosses her arms and raises her eyebrows at me.
“You’re my mom, and I do not want to talk to you about this.”
She blows out a breath. “Just watch yourself. Sometimes babies make men grow up, but other times they don’t. I have no reason to believe Damon is going to leave you high and dry at some point, but it’s also not football season. I just don’t want to see you get hurt because your expectations don’t meet reality.”
I hate the fact my mom is making me doubt him and what we did. Surely him going down on me earlier isn’t going to affect our co-parenting. It’s not as if I’m going to tell him how much I want to do it again after the doctor clears me for sex. The man knows his way around a woman, and he made me feel special and cared for tonight. It’s the opposite of how I felt last August—wanton and liberated—but no less satisfying. There’s absolutely no reason I can’t compartmentalize this.
I hope.
My mom sits in the chair Damon just left.
