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I want to rip my eyes out. I want to riphiseyes out.
Instead, I storm to the counter and peg a wooden spoon at his head. “No! I’m pissed about shit you did in real life. I’m pissed about shit youdidn’tdo in real life. My dream was good, then I woke up and remembered you were a dick!” I snatch a spatula from the drawer and send that right after the spoon.
Jim’s been training his whole life, too, so he easily dodges my missiles. “If you tell me what was in the dream, maybe I can do that thing and make you happy?”
Nope!I just throw a measuring cup instead. Thenewmeasuring cup that I picked out especially for Bean’s and my new life together.
This time, thank God, I’m on the mark and the cup pings off his forehead. “You can’t do it, because it’s too late now!” I slump forward weakly and let the sad tears overtake my frame.
Just like always, he jumps forward and takes me in his arms. He’ll never let me fall. He’ll never let me falloutof love with him. I sob into his chest, but this time, unlike in my dream, I definitely feel Bean between us.
“It’s okay, Izzy. As long as we both live, nothing’s ever too late.”
His words tear a new strip from my soul. He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t even know why I’m upset, so how could I expect him to get it? I pull away, embarrassed and awkward, and following my body with his eyes, his chocolate gaze drops from my face to my chest, drags down my torso, and almost caresses me with a single heated look.
I look down at last and squeak at the reminder that I’m almost naked. I’ve been screaming at him, attacking him with feet, elbows, and kitchen utensils, I’ve been crying into his sexy, naked man chest, and I’ve been almost naked the whole time.
And not just naked, but eight months pregnant and naked.
I throw my hands down, not to cover my breasts, but my stomach. “Oh my God.” I back up. “Oh my God.”
“Izzy…” His eyes are like liquid, like a literal fluid coffee. Hungry, predatory, as he stalks forward.
My hands begin to sweat and shake. “No. No. No.Nononono.” I throw my hands out between us. I’m not entirely sure what I’m asking for, but I need privacy. To die. “Please leave, Jimmy. Please go now.”
“I’m not leaving.” He takes another step forward. “I’m never leaving.”
“Please go!” My heart feels as though it might claw its way out of my chest and jump into the blender on my counter. That would hurt less than what I’m feeling right now.
“I’m not going, baby.”
“Why are you even here?” After a moment of silence, my brain finally clicks over, catches up, and sets off alarm bells. “Jimmy. Why are you even here?”
“Slept on your couch.”
“Why?”Did he hear me pee in the night? Or snore?
“Because it’s cold outside.”
“I know it’s cold outside! It’s almost Christmas. Why are you here?”
“Well, I started the night in the car, but it got too cold.”
“Why were you in your car?”
“Because I’m not leaving you.”
“Jim–” Taking a deep breath, I meet his eyes. “I’m begging you. Just leave me alone.”
