Page 50 of Uxpectedly Ever After

I trace the outline of his stubbled jaw with my eyes, remembering what he said to Kasen.I'm in love with her. I've been in love with her for years.

He still hasn't said those words to me directly, and I haven't said them back. Because what if this is all just obligation? What if he's only here, only doing all of this, because of our baby? What if I let myself believe this could be forever, only to have him realize he never signed up for this?

His hand twitches on my stomach in his sleep, like he's already protecting our child from my doubts.

And that's when it hits me, with a clarity that steals my breath. I'm falling in love with Banks Priestly. Actually, if I'm being completely honest with myself—which is something I try to avoid at all costs—I've been falling for him since that first night during the thunderstorm.

Or maybe I’ve been falling for him since I was a teenager.

But one thing’s for sure: I'm in love with him, and I'm terrified.

Because this feels a lot like I've unexpectedly stumbled into my own ever after when I’m barely ready for right now.

It’s been two weeks since Clover nearly collapsed at Ember, and I'm still a fucking wreck every time she so much as yawns.

"Seriously, Priestly. Take a breath before you pass out." Brenna flops onto the bench next to me in the station gym, blonde curls yanked into that tight ponytail she always wears on shift. “You’ve been staring at your phone for twenty minutes. Pretty sure it’ll buzz if something important happens.”

I grunt and shove my phone into my pocket, forcing my attention to the free weights. "Just checking the time."

"Bullshit." She snags a pair of fifteens and starts on bicep curls, eyeing me in the mirror. "You're checking to make sure your pregnant girlfriend hasn't spontaneously combusted in the last five minutes."

“She’s not my girlfriend,” I mutter—though, let’s be real, that’s basically exactly what Clover is. We live together, share a bed, split a baby fund, and I’m a thousand percent in love with her. But we haven’t slapped any official label on it, and it’s starting to eat at me.

"Right." Brenna rolls her eyes. "You just knocked her up, moved in, and look at her like she could chop off your leg and you’d thank her for it."

“It’s complicated.” I grab the thirties and hammer out a set of curls, trying to channel my frustration somewhere useful. “She’s different, all right? Independent as hell. Doesn’t want to need anybody.”

“And that’s a problem because…?”

“Because I want her to need me,” I bite out. “Not just as the father of her kid. I want her to—hell, I want to be everything to her.”

Brenna sets her weights aside and gives me a pointed look. "Have you told her that?"

"Not in so many words."

"Then how the hell is she supposed to know?"

I shrug, racking the dumbbells with more force than necessary. “Not exactly. But I told her brother I’m in love with her. Right in front of her.”

"That's not the same as telling her, dumbass." She shakes her head like I’m a rookie who can’t find the hose. "She doesn't want your protection, Banks. She wants your honesty. She wants to know she’s a choice you'd make every day even without the baby."

Her words nail me in the chest, stripping away all my lame excuses. Brenna's always had a talent for slicing through my bullshit.

"Let me guess," Brenna continues when I don't respond. "You're so focused on taking care of her and the baby that you've forgotten to actually show her who you really are as a partner—who you want to be for her.”

“What’s that even mean?” I grab a towel, wiping the sweat off my forehead, buying time because her words have cut open something uncomfortable in my chest.

"I mean that you're so worried about being the perfect baby daddy that you're not showing her the man who wants to build a life with her." Brenna stands and pokes me hard in the chest. "Show her who you really are, not who you think she wants you to be."

The station alarm blares before I can respond, sending us both sprinting toward the bay for a medical call. But Brenna'swords follow me the rest of the shift, digging under my skin like splinters.

Show her who you really are.

By the time I clock out the next morning, I know exactly what I need to do.

When I pull up to the house in the Sellwood neighborhood for the second time, my palms are sweating against the steering wheel. This is a big fucking step, probably the biggest I've ever taken. I’m more nervous about this than I’ve ever been stepping into a fire.

"Are you sure about this?" The realtor, a no-nonsense woman named Ellen, shoots me a sideways glance from the passenger seat. “It’s a big commitment, especially without your partner here.”

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