by Nina Levine
Andrea is the person I’ve been slowly training up to be my office manager, and this week she took charge of some stuff when she could see I struggled to take on extra Pilates classes and keep on top of all the admin work. It was perfect timing because now I feel confident to give her more jobs while I move further into my IVF cycle.
“That’s fantastic news.”
“How about you? How’s your week been?” We talk about me so much, I feel bad that Cleo maybe doesn’t get to share all her news.
“Besides being ready to kill Mark, all is good up here.”
“Oh man, what’s he done now?” Her husband is one of the best men I know, but he does have a way of pissing her off often.
As she relays his antics, Winter comes home and joins me in the kitchen. Placing his hand on my waist, he leans in and brushes his lips over mine. It’s a quick kiss and over too soon for me. Needing his presence for longer, I reach for his arm as he pulls away. “I love you,” I mouth.
His face fills with a smile and he kisses me again before saying, “I love you, too.”
“Oh my God,” Cleo shrieks, snapping my attention back to her. “The dog just peed on the carpet! Mark is gonna kill him. And me. I gotta go, babe. Sorry!”
Laughing, I say, “Go! Save Rocky’s life.”
The line goes dead, and I take in Winter’s questioning look. “Rocky peed on their carpet.”
He chuckles. “Mark won’t be happy.”
I love that Winter knows Mark as well as he does. The two of them hit it off straight away and have no trouble killing time together whenever the four of us catch up. “That’s an understatement.”
He wraps his arms around me. “You good, angel?”
It’s been two days since Winter declared we needed a daily check-in on my state of mind, and this is today’s. I like that we’re doing this. “Yes and no. Yes, because I don’t have a headache today and I feel okay, but no, because my face is breaking out.”
He searches my face, frowning. “Where?”
I point at my cheek. “There. How can you not see that?”
He looks again. “I can’t see it.”
My eyes widen. “It’s red and about to come through!”
“Jesus, Birdie, there’s barely anything there.”
“That’s because you’re a guy and blind. I’m telling you, I’m about to break out big time.”
“So besides the non-breakout on your face, you’re okay?”
I push him away. Bloody men. “It’s not a non-breakout. You’ll see. And yes, I’m okay.”
He gives me the look that says “You’re being dramatic” and shifts the conversation. “What do you want for dinner?”
“I thought I’d cook you silverside.”
“No, I’m cooking tonight. I can make that if you want or I could make something else.”
“Have I ever told you how much I love you?”
A smile teases his lips. “No, I can’t say you ever have.”
I love bantering with him like this. Since the night of his birthday when I admitted how crazy I feel on these drugs, things have been good. Lighter. And there’s been a lot more of this easiness between us. I should have opened up to him sooner about how I’m feeling, but I didn’t want to worry him when I know he’s already got so much on his mind with club stuff. He comes home some nights exhausted, and I know it’s not just physical. He’s mentally tired, too, so I try to keep things between us as uncluttered as I can. But he was right when he said we’re partners in this, so I’m sharing everything with him now, and that’s been the best thing for both of us.
Reaching for him, I hook my fingers into his jeans and move into him. “I love you, Winter Morrison, and don’t you ever forget it.”
Glancing down at my hand, he murmurs, “We could put dinner off and I could show you how much I love you.”
Bringing my other hand to his neck, I say, “I would love you to do that.”
His mouth meets mine at the same time his hands slide around to my ass and he lifts me up onto the kitchen counter. A moment later, my hoodie and T-shirt land on the floor, and Winter kisses his way down to my breasts.
I grip his hair. We haven’t had sex for nearly a week; his touch is everything I need. When he undoes my bra and loses himself in my body, I have to restrain myself from making this happen faster than he is. I may not have wanted sex for days, but holy hell I want it now.
He devotes time to every inch of my skin on his way down to my jeans. When he reaches his destination, he lifts his head and meets my gaze. “You good, angel?”
I’m overcome with love for this man at that question. At him loving me so much he’s checking in on me before allowing himself to have what he wants. Grasping his face, I pull him back up so I can kiss him. “I am so much better than good.”
His eyes search mine like he’s trying to work out the truth in my answer. I don’t blame him; I’ve been all over the place while on these fertility drugs, but he doesn’t have to worry about me today because I need him in all the ways right now.
“Winter,” I say as I work the button on his jeans. “I promise you I’m good. I want this. I’m not going to quit on you halfway again.”
He stops my progress with his jeans. “If you want to quit halfway, you fucking quit halfway,” he says, his voice full of fierce love. “And you don’t feel bad for it.”
The emotion swirling between us engulfs me, and I wrap my arms around him tightly. “I fucking love you, but you need to stop talking right now and start fucking me before you make me cry.”
I know he’s feeling what I am by the way he’s looking at me. He takes another few moments just watching me silently before letting my hand go and moving into action, finally giving me what I want.
Pulling me down from the counter, he spins me around to face it. His hands go to my jeans and he strips me of them, and my panties. After that, he removes his clothes before coming back to me, his hands to my hips, his mouth to my neck. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”
I reach for one of his hands and direct his fingers to where I desperately want them. When he slides one inside me, I drop my head back and moan, “Fuck yes.”
Winter’s deep growl of approval heightens the pleasure he’s giving me, and when he snakes his other arm around my body so he can stroke my clit while fucking me with his fingers, I rest my head against his shoulder and close my eyes.
His fingers.
His lips.
His tongue.
I’m consumed by him.
Every other thought disappears while he brings me to orgasm.
“Oh, God,” I cry as the orgasm shatters through me.
“Fuck,” Winter rasps, grinding himself against me. “Give me your mouth, angel.”
I angle my head to do as he says, and his lips crash down onto mine. His kiss is bruising. Rough. My man is hungry for me and that hunger only intensifies mine.
Gripping my hips, he thrusts inside me. He’s not gentle here either, and drives his dick as far as he can, as hard as he can. His fingers dig into my skin while he pounds into me, and I unravel a little more with each thrust.
I’ve been wound so tight, with far too many thoughts and feelings exhausting me that some days it’s felt hard to breathe. Winter’s done his best to be there for me, but there’s only so much he can do to help. No one can fully ease your burdens. There’ll always be those places deep inside that remain untouchable. But somehow, being with him like this helps. Somehow, it allows air in that I didn’t even know I needed.
I come again just before Winter comes. His strong arms circle me after and his lips brush my neck. “I love you, Birdie.” It’s a low, growly rumble that takes hold of my heart.
Turning in his arms, I say, “I love you, too.”
He smiles and pushes my hair off my face. “We need to give you your shot.”
I return his smile. “Yes, we do.”
After we clean up, Winter brings the needle into the bedroom where I sit waiting
for him. He’s given me every injection since my second one, and while I don’t look forward to the needle, I always look forward to this time with him. Even when I’m in a funk or not feeling well.
He kisses me before pinching my stomach together and injecting the drugs. His presence helps soften the sting of the needle, something I’m grateful for.
“What if I can’t breastfeed?” I ask as I watch him finish up.
His eyes come to mine. “What if you can?”
He knows I spend far too many hours worrying over things that may not turn out how I want them to. Sometimes he humours me; sometimes he counteracts me.
I pull a face. I want a serious discussion tonight. “Seriously, what if the baby won’t take to my boob?”
He crouches in front of me. “I’ll teach it how.”
This makes me laugh and I smack him playfully. “Not helpful.”
He disposes of the needle in the sharps container and puts it on the floor. Placing his hands to my thighs, he says, “If the baby can’t breastfeed, it wasn’t meant to be. I wasn’t breastfed and I turned out all right.”
“I never knew that about you.” I also never imagined the day I’d hear Winter say if something didn’t happen, it wasn’t meant to be. He’s always been so driven to make things happen; this way of thinking from him surprises me.
“Mum tried for days to breastfeed, but in the end had to admit defeat because I was losing too much weight. I know she always regretted not being able to make it happen, but that kind of regret is a waste of time. As is you worrying over this being a possibility.” He takes hold of my hands. “We’re doing everything we can to make a baby, and I know that once we have that baby, we’ll do everything we can to do right by it. That’s all a parent can do, Birdie.”
“How did I get so lucky to have you as my husband?” I ask as I lean forward and rest my forehead against his.
He stays with me like that for a moment and then stands. “I have no fucking clue, but that kid of ours is also lucky since I’m gonna be the one to teach it how to latch on. It hit the jackpot having me as a dad.”
I love how he talks about our child as a given. There’s no hesitation from Winter where our IVF success is concerned.
Smiling up at him, I shake my head at his cockiness.
Taking hold of my face, he presses a kiss to my forehead. “Mostly, though, it hit the jackpot having you as its mother.”
I really am the lucky one. Even in my darkest moments of fear and worry, when I think about what life will be like if we never have a baby, I know I’m blessed to have Winter by my side.
9
Birdie
* * *
I pull into my car park at work on Tuesday morning, cut the engine, and grab my phone. Calling Winter, I reapply my lipstick while I wait for him to answer. I’m all hyped up after having just come from the IVF clinic where I had another ultrasound and blood test so they could check my levels to see if I’m ready for the stimulation phase. I’ve got good news I’m desperate to share with Winter, but I get his voicemail instead of him.
“Ugh,” I grumble while I listen to his message. “It’s me. Call me as soon as you can. I have good news.”
I shove my phone in my bag and open the door to exit the car; however, my phone rings and I madly reach for it, hopeful it’s Winter.
It’s not.
It’s Lily.
“Hey, you,” I say, answering the call.
“Oh my God, B, I’ve been dying to know how you went at the clinic this morning. Was it good news, or do you have to endure another dildo-cam tomorrow?”
I laugh at her description of the ultrasound. I’ve had one every day since Friday, and to say I’m over them is an understatement, but I have many more ahead of me so I’m learning to suck it up and just get on with the process. “It was the best news today. I’m starting stims tonight!”
Her squeal of excitement is so loud I have to shift the phone from my ear for a beat. “I’m so excited for you! Have you been able to get in touch with Winter?”
Winter left early this morning to head north and meet King for the road trip they’re taking this week. He kissed me goodbye at around 5:00 a.m., guilt still clear in his voice even though I’ve told him not to feel that. It’s not like he wanted to leave me at this time; he had no choice in the matter.
“Not yet. I just left him a voicemail. Hopefully he’ll call soon. I’m ready to burst with this news.”
“I bet you are,” she says. “Okay, I’ll let you go because I know you have a huge day at work today. I just couldn’t wait another second to find out how it all went.”
“Love you, Lil. I’ll keep you updated.”
After we end the call, I make my way upstairs to work. Andrea greets me at the front desk. “Hi, Birdie.”
“Hey.” I glance around at the empty waiting area. “How’s the morning going?” It’s just after 10:00 a.m. and super quiet for this time of day.
“We’ve had a few clients reschedule for this afternoon, and your class at eleven is now full. Also, I’ve played around with the roster for the next month and have managed to remove a heap of classes from your schedule. I know you weren’t worried about having to run those classes, but I thought I’d see what I could come up with to give you an idea.”
My smile for her is huge. Andrea has been a godsend for me and, in a short time, has found ways to give me some breathing space at work. “I really appreciate that.”
“I put a copy on your desk to look at.”
“Thank you. I’ll go take a look now.”
I leave her and head to my office, eager to see what she’s come up with. I’m trying to find someone to replace Juanita, but not having a lot of success. If Andrea’s suggested roster is workable, it’ll take a load off my mind.
I’ve just sat at my desk when my phone rings and I’m excited to see Winter’s name on the screen. Answering the call, my belly flutters when his face appears. It amazes me that this still happens after all these years.
“You got my voicemail?” I say, wishing I could reach out and touch him. My eyes greedily trace the angles of his face, taking in features and lines that I committed to memory a long time ago. God, he’s only been gone five hours and I miss him so much already.
“Yeah.” He smiles. “Tell me the good news, angel.”
I lean back in my chair, relaxed thanks to my visit to the clinic and this call. I give him a blow-by-blow of everything that happened and then say, “I’m starting the next lot of injections tonight.”
“At the usual time?”
“Yeah.”
“Call me while you do it.”
“You’re busy with King. I’ve got this.”
His features turn serious. “I mean it, Birdie. Call me. I wanna do this with you.”
“Okay, I will.”
He glances at something in front of him and then comes back to me. “I’ve gotta go. I’ll be waiting for your call tonight.”
I put my fingers to my lips and kiss them before pressing it to the phone screen. “Love you.”
“I love you, too.”
With that, he’s gone, and I feel all kinds of happy. He might be gone for the week, but I know he’s thinking of me throughout his days. I feel loved, and that’s all anyone needs to get through hard moments.
It’s been a long day by the time I call Winter that night. I got through a stack of admin work this afternoon, which was good, but I’ve had a pounding headache since lunchtime, so that wasn’t fun to deal with. The Advil I’ve taken is helping but not completely easing it. I try to push the pain to the side during our call, because I just want to enjoy the time we have to talk.
Winter seems on edge, though, when he answers the call. Not with me, but with whatever he’s got going on with King. He doesn’t say anything, but I can tell. This is how he comes home from his days sometimes—tense and somewhat detached. I can also see the exhaustion lining his face, and it worries me. This whole trip worries me, but I’m tryin
g not to think about that.
“How are you?” I ask.
He scrubs a hand over his face. “Tired. You?”
Winter can be a man of few words when it comes to questions about him. It frustrates me a little because I’m looking for a whole lot more than that simple one-word answer. I don’t say anything, though. I let it go and hope he’ll share more as the conversation progresses. “I’ve had a headache all afternoon, but besides that, I’m good. Excited.” I eye the motel room he’s sitting in. “What are you guys doing tonight?”
He leans back against the chair. “Fucking nothing. I’m gonna watch some TV and pass out with any luck.”
“Did you get everything done today that you needed?”
“Yeah.” The image on my screen wobbles as he shifts in the chair and then he comes back into view. “You ready to do this shot?”
I rest the phone on the coffee table next to the chair I’m in, angling it so he can see me, and grab the needle. “Tell me something else about your childhood that I don’t know.”
We’ve started doing this while he administers my injections. Winter was trying to take my mind off it one night and came out with this random fact about his childhood that I didn’t know. I loved learning stuff about him so much that I’ve asked him different things about his life each night since.
He thinks about that for a moment. “Max was always the one getting into trouble growing up. Mum used to take to him with the wooden spoon far more often than she did to me.”
The needle stings as it goes through my skin. I force myself to concentrate on what Winter’s saying and do my best to ignore the sensation. “That surprises me. I would have picked you for the one always getting in trouble.”
He chuckles, and the sound spreads warmth through me. He’s no longer as tense as when he first came on the call. “Yeah, I knew you would have. Max grew out of his bad-boy ways by the time you met him.”
“What was the worst thing you ever got in trouble over?”