Page 167 of Nine Months to Bear
“If you come help, we’ll never leave this room.”
“I don’t see the problem with that.”
I laugh, resuming my naked march toward his bathroom. “Some of us have responsibilities.”
“Some of us are pregnant,” he reminds me, “and should be taking it easy.”
The scold sends a flutter through my stomach—not nausea this time, but pure joy. I’mpregnant. With Stefan’s baby.
And he wants this. Wantsus.
Sometimes, life seems too good to be true.
The shower is further proof that I’m living a dream life. I never fail to appreciate just how absurd the thing is. I could do cartwheels in here if I wanted to. Seeing as how my legs are currently made of pudding, though, I settle for standing underneath the rainfall showerhead and letting the hot water wash away the sticky evidence of our morning.
Through the glass, I can see Stefan saunter in and lean against the doorframe, watching me with an intensity that makes me flush.
“You’re staring,” I call out.
“Can you blame me?”
I turn to face him fully, water streaming down my body. His jaw tightens, hands flexing at his sides like he’s physically restraining himself from joining me.
“This is torture,” he mutters.
“Good.” I reach for the shampoo, working it through my hair slowly, deliberately. “Consider it payback for all those times you made me wait.”
His eyes go huge. “Imadeyouwait? That’s revisionist history. You’re the one who thought you could get away with leaving a plastic fucking cup on my desk.”
I blush and look down. “That was different.”
He nods. “It was. That was before…”
When he doesn’t finish his sentence, I glance at him. “Before what?”
His eyes meet mine through the steam. “Before I admitted I was completely fucked where you’re concerned.”
The honesty in his voice stops my teasing. I rinse my hair, suddenly serious. “Stefan…”
“I know. Too much, too fast. But I can’t take it back now. And you know what? I don’t fucking want to.”
I’m about to respond when my phone buzzes on the counter. Then buzzes again. And again.
“Ignore it,” Stefan says.
But the buzzing doesn’t stop. If anything, it gets more insistent.
“What if it’s important?” I ask.
The phone stops buzzing. Then immediately starts again.
I sigh, turning off the water. “I should check.”
Stefan hands me a towel as I emerge, his fingers lingering on mine. I wrap the towel around my torso and grab my phone. The caller ID makes my stomach drop.
“It’s the hospital,” I breathe.
Stefan’s entire demeanor shifts, going alert. “Mass General?”
