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"Both," Nico suggests.
I glare at him, but he doesn't seem to notice my irritation. He just flashes another smile at me and brushes dirt off my face, picking more leaves out of my hair.
God, he's awfully smiley right now. I look away.
"We can do that," the doctor agrees, looking at me again.
"Yeah. Sure," I sigh, resigned.
I fight off Nico's assistance when he tries helping me into the tidy little bathroom to pee into the stupid little cup. A wide-smiling nurse gets the blood sample from a little prick in my finger, and then we wait. I watch the doctor prod and examine my swollen ankle.
Meanwhile, it's like Nico can't stop touching me, and I should really stop liking it. I also shouldn't feel that sharp flutter in my stomach each time he catches my eye and grins. It must just be those damn dimples. Who wouldn't get a little fluttery looking at those?
Nico rests one arm around the back of my hair, looking at Dr. Lee for the first time in a few minutes. "Is it broken?"
"No, looks like she was right. Just sprained, poor thing. You said you got this falling down a ravine?" Hetsksand sits up. "No ligaments are fully ruptured, no broken or fractured bones, but the bruising is excessive. It should heal in about six weeks. Just remember RICE–rest, ice, compress, elevate. I'm afraid it will be pretty painful for the first week or so. Just take it very easy, Miss Rivera."
"We'll do that," Nico agrees, eyeing the swollen pinkish knot on my ankle. "I want an x-ray to make sure nothing is broken."
"That's not necessary," I say quickly, giving him a look. "I trust Dr. Lee's assessment."
Nico looks at Dr. Lee, who shrugs. "An x-ray would be quick. We'll get the images back in time for the pregnancy results."
"Perfect."
So, thanks to pesky Nico, I have to lay on a table while a fancy machine buzzes and scans overhead. I think I mutter, "This isn't necessary" and "This is stupid" at least six times.
But Nico is all smiles. Annoyingly beautiful smiles.
Finally, Dr. Lee slides a bunch of results across his desk to Nico. "Congratulations. I'm sure the two of you will be wonderful parents."
I only glimpse the papers in Nico's hand, but I know why he's staring at them for so long.
Positive. Pregnant.
I wonder if his world is flipping over the way mine did, but Nico is composed as he thanks the doctor, and we leave the high-end skyscraper. He treats me like glass again as he carries me out of his car and into his apartment building.
In the elevator, I finally sigh. "Put me down, Nico."
He kisses the top of my head. "No. You heard him. You're resting that ankle."
"I can walk."
"I'd much prefer to hold you,mi cuore."
I huff and shake my head. “That’s it. We're finally alone. Please just put me out of my misery. I know you're mad that I ran, Nico. I've been waiting for you to come back to that. Just give in and yell at me so we can get it over with, okay? I just…" I grimace, hating how weak I sound. "I'm tired. I don't want to keep waiting for you to blow up any second."
The elevator doors open with a soft ping. He says nothing as he carries me into the bathroom, turning on the light as he goes and setting me on the marble counter.
Then he kisses me, long and slow and deep. When he finally pulls back, we're both a little short on breath. His turquoise eyes burn into mine.
"You're right. I am mad. I'm mad that you put yourself and our baby in danger."
Our baby.A shiver rolls over me. God. I didn't expect him to say it like that—all sweet and protective.
He kisses my forehead before gently removing my shoes and socks and jacket. "I'm mad that you didn't tell me, Sybil. And that you tried to run."
Next, my shirt comes off, and I swallow when his eyes dip over my bare skin. He reaches up to trace a strap of my bra before removing that, too.
