Page 71 of East (The Moral Compass 3)

She’s worrying me more now with the dizzy spells than the damn pregnancy. I can see she’s mad with me. If I push much harder, she’s going to go anyway, so I slide over the bed, get under the duvet, and pull her across to me.

“Get some sleep, Dynamite. We might need all our energy tomorrow.” I kiss her on the top of her head, and she shifts her head to look at me. Those piercing eyes catch me off guard.I wonder if our child would have her eyes?

“Night, BG.”

“Night, Dynamite.”

Chapter 29

East

Istretchoutmyback as my body wakes. Zed is still asleep next to me. I have to admit, I’ve been on and off all night. The thought of me being pregnant has finally sunk in. I was trying to keep Zed calm last night, so I didn’t really acknowledge the fact that I could very well be up the duff.

The alarm clock shows 7:02. The doctors’ offices open at 8:00, so I have time for a nice hot shower and some breakfast before trying to get through on the phone line to hell.

I’m just sliding out of bed when a thick forearm reaches round and pulls me back into the bed.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, his voice croaky.

“To get a shower and some breakfast. Why?”

“Well, I thought we could start our honeymoon, properly.”

“I think we should wait until we know the outcome of our previous honeymoon. Don’t you?”

“I’ve been thinking about that. So, if you are pregnant, then us having sex isn’t going to get you pregnant again, and if you’re not pregnant, and you’ve not had your period yet, then you’re not going to get pregnant, either, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Where the hell did you go to medical school, Zed O’Brien? The first bit was right, but the second bit? Jesus, no wonder there are so many unwanted pregnancies out there.” As the words leave my lips, I can feel the guilt flush through my body. Me and my big mouth.

“If you think that just upset me, East, you’re wrong. I completely agree. Males need much more education on this stuff. In my defence, though, I’ve never been in a relationship, so these types of conversations never happen, and you’re the only one I’ve forgotten to use a condom with. Fuck, that makes me sound like a complete wanker.”

“Yep, it does, but I can forgive you if you forgive me. I forgot all about your background, and it was totally unacceptable and insensitive of me.” I fake pout and flutter my eyelids.

He laughs. “Deal, but don’t think you need to be sensitive around me. I generally don’t give a shit about what people say. As long as you’re happy, then I’ll be happy.” He smiles, pulls me over, and kisses me softly on my lips.

My self-consciousness panics at the thought of morning breath, but it doesn’t seem to be deterring Mr. O’Brien, and when his hand slides between my legs, it doesn’t matter to me either.

“This is a very nice way to wake up, but I need to shower and call the doctor. You remember? I need to have a small test?”

“Yes, I do remember, and we also need to talk to them about your balance,” he replies, moving stray hairs off my face.

“Good, so can you please stop trying to turn me on and let me out of this bed so that I can go and get a shower?”

“A shower sounds perfect. You run the water, and I’ll put the coffee machine on.” He jumps out of bed and heads straight for the kitchen—naked.Why are men so confident about their bodies while us women hide away and cover up?I wonder, watching his arse disappear down the hallway.

How have I ended up in this situation? He is like seriously hot, and he’s here with me. We still haven’t ‘talked’, and I know it’s coming, but I need to get this other issue out of the way first.

Crap, I need cling film or a bag to cover my cast. I wander into the kitchen, and I stand and admire his beautiful body. I could watch him move around like that all day long. Every muscle is toned to perfection, every line is detailed, and the ink that covers both of his arms is a masterpiece.

When he notices me watching, he smiles, winks at me, and carries on. I, on the other hand, nearly collapse as my knees go weak. I wish he didn’t have this effect on me.

“I just need something to cover my cast. I’m not allowed to get it wet.”

“And that’s all you were looking for?” He smirks.

“Yes, it was.” I giggle. “I need something waterproof.”

And, as if it was his own apartment, he opens a drawer and passes me a white pedal bin liner.

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