Page 31 of The Game Plan
I drag myself out of bed and make my way to the bathroom.The baby is pressing on my bladder like it’s a full-time job. Morning pee cannot be delayed. With my routine finished, I shuffle toward the smell of coffee as bright sunlight shines through the windows. I slept later than usual this morning—my body needs more and more rest. Grant’s no doubt been gone for hours.
The coffeemaker is still set to warm, a half a pot left behind. But it’s the travel mug on the counter that catches my eye. There’s a sticky note on it. My chest tingles at his thoughtfulness as a smile tugs on my lips.
In his messy all-caps handwriting, it reads:
A stupid laugh bubbles from my throat before I can stop it. With my fingers pressed to my lips, I blink away the tears rapidly forming at the corners of my eyes. This has become his thing, and I love it so much. They started a few days ago, and I look forward to stumbling across a new note in different places. These little random reminders—some funny, some annoyingly practical, and others hit me right in the chest.
Grabbing the travel mug and the note, I make my way back to my bedroom to get ready for my doctor's appointment. In thelast week, I’ve settled into this space. All my boxes are unpacked. I didn’t have a whole lot that I brought with me, but I made sure to set around some pieces of decor that made this room feel like my home.
A TV sits on my dresser, surrounded by frames and a few trinkets. My aunt sent a small crib for the apartment. With Grant’s help, we rearranged the furniture to make space. I promised him pizza and beer if he helped put it together this weekend.
Swiping through my closet, I grab a beige linen set. The oversized button-up doesn’t cling to my ever-growing bump, while the stretchy shorts fit comfortably on my hips. I take a sip of honey-flavored coffee, savoring the warmth as I button the top. When my aunt asked me to make a baby registry, I made sure to put only zipper sleepers. Buttons at 3 a.m.? Hard pass.
My phone rings, the vibration on the dresser startling me. Glancing down at the screen, I can’t help but smile.
“Hey.” Happiness radiates in my greeting as I press the phone between my ear and shoulder, exiting my room and heading to the bathroom to apply my makeup.
“Well, aren’t you a delight this morning?” Ridge’s deep voice comes through the speaker. There’s a rustling of wind and the low hum of traffic behind him. “I tried calling you earlier.”
I chuckle, lifting my sponge and dabbing foundation across my face. “Yeah, at seven this morning.”
“And?”
“And…I was still sleeping.”
“Seriously?” he snaps. I pause, staring at my reflection in the mirror as my brow furrows at his tone. This isn’t like him.
“Ridge,” I snap right back. “I’m growing a human. It’s exhausting. What’s got you in such a huff?”
He sighs deeply, and I can picture him running his hand over his buzz cut. “Can’t wait to have the kid on my bike with me.”
I huff a laugh, reaching for my brow pencil to shape my overgrown eyebrows. I need a wax. “Over my dead body is my kid getting on a bike withyou, of all people.”
He mocks a gasp. “I'm offended.”
I bite down on a smile as I drag the pencil through my brows, then soften it with the spoolie. “You don’t know what a speed limit is.”
“Just because I like to race doesn’t mean I wouldn’t jump in front of a bullet for the kid.”
“I know, Ridge. I know,” I respond, reassuring him that I’m aware he would protect my baby at all costs. But then I get back to the matter at hand. Something feels off with my cousin. “What’s going on?”
“Can’t I call and check in?” he mutters, and I can hear the click of a lighter. I picture him pausing on the sidewalk, phone between his ear and shoulders as he lights a cigarette.
“Of course you can. You sound off…”
“I’m fine.” I hear him blow out some smoke. “Rough week, but we’re talking about you.”
“But we can talk about you.” Rummaging through my makeup bag, I pull out my bronzer. Rubbing a brush through the bronzer, I stipple it across the high points of my face.
“Nope. How’s your living situation?”
“It’s been…good. Weird, but not bad. We’re figuring it out,” I respond honestly, knowing Ridge can see through me, especially if I’m hiding something.
“Weird how?”
“Like…we coexist. More than roommates, not dating. I don’t know how to explain it. He shows up when I never expect him to. It’s like he’s taking on a role, and I feel guilty.”
“You have no reason to feel guilty.”
