Page 79 of Play the Game
“Say it,” Cooper orders, grinning down at me where I’m lying on the exam table, gown open, as Dr. McCallister moves the ultrasound wand over my belly.
“Say what?” I ask dryly, knowing exactly what he wants.
“Say, Cooper, you were right.”
The doctor laughs as I roll my eyes. “You obviously have to know I’m not saying that. I don’t think my brain will even let me put those words together. Does not compute, Wyles.”
Cooper laughs, taking my hand and threading our fingers together. “It’s fine, Rhodes. Just the knowledge that I correctly predicted the sex of this baby is enough for me. And I have the pictures to prove it.” He glances down at the ultrasound pictures that the doctor tore off the machine and handed to him, his eyes shining with something that looks a whole lot like joy.
I wasn’t sure how I would feel when I found out the sex of the baby. I was prepared for everything from disinterest to actual panic. But what I didn’t expect when the doctor told us we were having a girl was to feel a frisson of warmth and a weird sort of determination. I didn’t expect to make a silent promise lyinghere on this exam table under the bright lights with Cooper next to me holding my hand and the doctor above me doing her thing. A promise to do it better than my mom did. A promise that I will accept my daughter exactly as she is. That I will always make sure she knows she’s important and loved and that she’s no one’s afterthought and will never be second best. That even though I have no clue what I’m doing, I’ll try my best to figure it out for her.
Her.
My daughter.
Those words do have a little shot of panic curling into my stomach. I glance up at Cooper automatically, and he’s looking right back at me as if he can read my thoughts. The understanding in his eyes chases most of the panic away, and for a minute, I consider what it would be like to make this thing between Cooper and me official rather than the nebulous, together but not together situation we have going on. The thing where we have sex but I never sleep over. Where he brings me breakfast every morning and we talk by candlelight as the sun rises and then go about our workday like we’re the colleagues we’ve always been. Where we talk about the fact that I’m pregnant but never what’s going to happen once the baby is actually here.
I’m not ready. Not quite. But as the baby knocks against my stomach, I think that I’m closer to ready than I ever have been before, and that feels like enough for now.
“You’re not going to, like, frame those or something, are you?” I ask as the doctor wipes the ultrasound gel off my stomach and I sit up, my feet dangling over the edge of the table.
Cooper smiles, pushing my hair behind my ear. “Nah, I have another idea for them.”
I study him as he looks down at the pictures again, his smile turning soft. “Care to share?”
He squeezes my hand in a habitual gesture I’m not even surehe’s aware of, and my traitorous heart squeezes back. “In time, Rhodes. All in good time.”
Before I can figure out what he means by that, the doctor clicks off the machine and sits down on her rolling stool, smiling up at us. “Everything looks good, Evan. Your blood pressure is staying steady, which is great, and the baby is measuring right on schedule. Unless something comes up before then, I’ll see you in about a month. You’ll be pretty close to your third trimester by then, so after that we’ll start seeing you every two weeks.”
Standing up from the table, I wince as a sharp pain shoots through my hips. Pressing a hand to where it aches, I look up at the doctor. “Is it normal to get weird pain in my hips when I move too fast? It’s this tightening, shooting kind of pain.”
“You’re in pain?” Cooper asks, his face a mask of concern as he presses his hand over mine on my hip. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I roll my eyes as I sit down, breathing a sigh of relief when the ache in my hip subsides. “Pregnancy is all aches and pains and things I’ve never felt before. If I told you every single time something weird happened, I would never stop talking to you.”
Cooper stands in front of me, cupping my face. “I would love it if you never stopped talking to me. Give it all to me. I want to know everything you’re feeling. Every single thing, Ev. I can’t help you if I don’t know. And even if I can’t help you, I still want to know.”
My heart does a long slow roll at Cooper’s words. My disloyal heart knocks against my chest like it’s trying to jump out and straight into his hands. Needing a minute, I glance at the doctor, who is smiling widely, her gaze bouncing between Cooper and me.
“It’s called round ligament pain,” she explains. “It’s very common and nothing to worry about. It comes from the way your ligaments stretch as your uterus grows. They get tight, and if you move suddenly, it can cause some really intense pain.”
“I’ll say,” I mutter, twisting my body to stretch out my hips.
“Tell me when that happens,” Cooper says, hooking a finger under my chin and tipping my head up to meet his eyes.
I frown at him. “It happens like ten times a day.”
“So then tell me ten times a day.”
The intensity in Cooper’s eyes belongs in a dark room, behind a closed door, not in a brightly lit exam room when I’m sitting here in a pink, open-front gown with my boobs practically hanging out and a doctor looking on in amusement. “Okay,” I say, my tone just a little exasperated. “If I promise to tell you, will you stop looking at me like I’m breakable?”
Cooper smiles and wraps an arm around my waist, kissing the side of my head. “You got it, Rhodes. And for the record, I don’t think you’re breakable. I think you’re the strongest woman I’ve ever known, and I’m surrounded by strong women every damn day.” He shrugs, squeezing my waist. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to take care of you, though. It’s who I am. Let me live, Ev.”
I huff out a laugh as Dr. McCallister grins. “I think you’re in good hands, Evan. If you need anything or have any questions before your next appointment, don’t hesitate to give me a call.”
With a smile and a wave, she leaves the room and I get dressed. Ten minutes later, we’re walking out of the building into the cold January air to head back to work when my phone rings. Digging it out of my bag, I groan when I see my mom’s name. “I have to get this,” I tell Cooper. “If I don’t, she’ll call back a million times and text incessantly, and I have too much work to do this afternoon to deal with that.”
“Anything you need,” Cooper says, tugging me back into the building and guiding me to a bench in the corner while I swipe to answer the phone, bringing it to my ear.
