Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 85711 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85711 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
“You got Julia tickets?” I ask, shocked.
“Well, she was talking with my dad yesterday, and she sounds like she really misses it.” He shrugs. “So I got her tickets. They are lodge tickets.”
“I don’t know what that means.” I take a fried pickle. “But it sounds expensive.”
He shakes his head. “It’s the perks of playing with the team.”
“Okay, but what happens when you leave?” I ask. “The games away.”
“It depends,” he says, taking his phone out and showing me his calendar. “We play tomorrow, and then the next day, we leave for six days.”
“Six days?” I try not to think about how it’s going to be not seeing him.
“Some road trips are two days,” he points out. “We just got back from two weeks on the road.”
“Oh my gosh,” I say, not even imagining what it would be like for him to be gone for two weeks. “That’s so long.”
“It gets old very fast.” He shrugs. “But it’s a job right now.” I nod. “I’m going to buy a house,” he finally says, and my stomach sinks once again. “That’s why I was late.” He takes a sip of water. “My aunt called me, and we were going over a couple of things.”
I nod, not able to say anything. Four days ago, it was just me and the bean, and now, it’s the three of us. “How is this all going to…” My finger goes into a circle.
“I have no idea,” he answers, blowing out a breath. “I don’t think there is a playbook for this kind of thing.” He laughs nervously. “And even if there was one, I think we need to make our own rule book. My main focus is you and the baby.” My heart does a pitter-patter when he includes me and not just the baby. “It’s you and the baby and helping in whatever I can do to help.”
I nod at him. “That sounds like a good plan.” I avoid his eyes. “I mean, people have babies all the time when they aren’t with each other anymore.” I get up to get away from him, the sting of tears itching to come out. Going to the fridge, I take a bottle of juice out and drink it, leaning on the counter looking at him. “I think that as long as we put the baby first, everything is going to fall into place.” I wait for him to say something, anything but all he does is watch me. I want to know what is really going on in his head. I want to know how he expects us to raise a baby. I want to know how it’s going to be if he meets someone or if I meet someone. I put my hand to my stomach as my stomach does the wave.
“Are you going to be sick?” he asks, pushing away from the stool.
“No,” I reply. “Just a little bit of a flutter.”
“Today,” he says, scratching his head. “It was insane.” The smile fills his face, and all I want to do is sit next to him. But I have to remind myself that he’s here for the baby.
“What part?” My curiosity is piqued. Everything is piqued when it comes to him. My body wakes up in ways I can’t even put into words.
“Hearing the baby’s heartbeat.” His eyes light up from the smile that is on his face. “Then seeing him flip and flop in your stomach.”
“Or her.” I tilt my head to the side. “It could be a girl.”
“Do you think it’s a girl?” he asks. “Like do you feel it’s a girl?”
“Honestly, I think it’s a boy.” I shrug. “I have no idea why.”
“Honestly…” He leans back a bit. “I don’t give a shit as long as the baby is healthy.”
“Same.” I smile at him. “As long as he or she comes out healthy and a normal size, I think it’s all I can ask for.” He laughs. “Who the hell gives birth to an eleven-pound child?”
“My mother.” He chuckles. “I think Zara and Zoe were eight pounds and six pounds.”
“That’s fourteen pounds of babies.” My tone is shock.
He gets up and starts cleaning up the counter, and I ignore the need to tell him to stay longer. I ignore everything, putting up a solid front. “Okay, one last question,” he says once the counter is clean.
“And go.” I look over at him as I’m washing my hands.
“What did the doctor mean by how are the hormones?” he asks, and I grab a dish towel to dry my hands. I scratch my head. My nipples are already ready to be played with.
“Why can’t you ask me another question?” I groan, and he claps his hands.
“I knew it was a good one,” he jokes. “What is it?”
“I don’t know why you even care.” I try not to look at him, but again, something about him just pulls me in.