by Emma Hart
He twisted his body so I had room to stand. “Does that mean I can finish my sleep in your bed? Don’t get me wrong, you’re a great hot water bottle, but your sofa is about as comfortable as a slab of rock.”
I wrinkled my face up. “I suppose it wouldn’t be fair to say no, since you’ve been my pillow all night. But keep your pants on.”
“Negative.” He got up, following me through the apartment. “I’ve already worn them for too long tonight.”
“Technically, it’s the morning.” I shut myself in the bathroom, cutting off whatever response he had, and peed like my life depended on it.
It damn well felt like it did.
God, pregnancy was so dramatic, and I was only a couple of weeks in.
I was going to be unbearable at the end, wasn’t I?
Ugh. Get ahold of yourself, Ivy. You’re not the first woman to ever be pregnant.
But seriously, the first pee of the day was so good.
Now three liters lighter, I washed my hands and quickly scrubbed my teeth with my toothbrush, then headed for my bedroom. As I’d suspected, Kai hadn’t listened to me at all, and I had to avoid stepping on his clothes as I moved to my side of the bed.
He was in his underwear, wasn’t he?
I crawled into bed. Immediately, I wrapped myself in the covers and curled up on my side.
The bed squeaked when Kai rolled over. He plastered his body against mine and threw one of his arms over me, locking me in place.
“What on Earth do you think you’re doing?” I muttered, not even bothering to open my eyes.
“Snuggling. Shh.” He moved in further.
“Kai.”
“Shh.”
I supposed I didn’t really have a leg to stand on here. I had, after all, been sleeping on him all night on the sofa.
And, God, it felt good. His body was large and hot, and there was something so comforting about having his arm wrapped around me. The last couple of days had been insane and uncertain, but now, lying here…
I shook off those thoughts. The last thing I needed to do right now was think about Kai like that. I couldn’t trust my thoughts right now. Was it hormones? Was it real? I certainly wasn’t about to pay any attention to post-pee, early-morning, half-asleep thoughts.
Nope.
Not a single one.
Not even if it was about how comfortable it was to be tucked against his strong body and wrapped up like a burrito in my blankets.
No.
Most definitely, absolutely, positively not.
Shit.
***
“What is that goddamn noise?”
Kai rolled over, leaving me noticeably cold, and grabbed his phone from the nightstand. “My alarm.
“Your alarm? I’ve been asleep for five minutes!”
“I know. You snore.”
“I do not snore!” I rolled over with a huff and glared at him. “If I snored, it’s because you were crushing me with your fat arms!”
Kai side-eyed me, but he was fighting a smile if the twitching of his lips was anything to go by. “Some of us start work early.”
“Ugh.” I rolled over and pulled the blankets over my head. “Sorry, we’re going to have to fake break up. This marriage already isn’t working for me.”
“We’re not fake married yet,” he reminded me, knocking his foot against mine before he got up. “We need to organize that, by the way.”
“Ugh. I don’t wanna.”
“What? You don’t want to be the fake Mrs. Kai Connors? My heart bleeds.”
I yanked the blankets down and glared at him, ignoring the fact he was shirtless and his abs were just begging me to touch them.
No, really, they were.
I could hear them.
Ivy. Touch us. Touch usssssssss.
See? Totally begging.
“I don’t need to be Mrs. Kai Connors, fake or otherwise,” I said, sitting up so the blankets pooled at my waist. “I’m already going to have your baby and that’s a longer sentence than a marriage.”
“A sentence? You make it sound like I’m going to imprison you in a nursery and force you to raise the baby alone.”
“I’d probably get a shorter sentence if I killed you.”
“This conversation took an unexpected turn.” He chuckled, pulling his shirt on. The action made his biceps flex, and the elaborate phoenix tattoo seemed to fly across his skin. “That’s the last time I creep into your bed.”
“I bet it’s not,” I muttered.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” I smiled, gripping the blankets. “Nothing at all.”
“Mm.” He tugged out some wrinkles in his t-shirt, then climbed back onto the bed. He leaned right over so that his face was inches from mine. His gaze locked onto mine, and for a moment, everything else in the room melted away. “You’re right,” he said in a low voice. “I doubt it will be the last time I creep into your bed.”
With a wink, he pulled back and grabbed his socks from the floor.
“If you insist on waking up at this ungodly hour,” I said, lying back down. “I’m hungry.”
He laughed from his perch on the end of the bed. “I see how this fake marriage is going to work.”
“If you wake me up early, you have to feed me. Besides, the baby is hungry. It told me.”
“Ivy, the baby is the size of a pea. I doubt it’s telling you anything.”
“How do you know how big it is?”
“It’s this novel idea called the Internet—you can search and find out anything you want to know. And some things you don’t.”
“Very funny. I want some toast. Please. On setting three with lots of butter.”
“Setting three? So you want it toasted for three minutes?”
I frowned. “Is that what the numbers are for?”
“Yeah. They’re a timer.”
“Huh. I never knew that,” I mused. Which was ridiculous, because wasn’t it so obvious?
“I read it on the internet,” Kai said flippantly. “You should try it sometime.”
Scoffing, I said, “I use the internet. Mostly to diagnose myself with deadly diseases and watch cat videos, but I use it.”
“Seems like a productive use of your time.”
“Oh, it was. I diagnosed myself with four different deadly illnesses before I gave up and finally admitted that I was pregnant.”
He peered over his shoulder from the doorway and raised an eyebrow. “A deadly disease was preferable to being pregnant?”
“No. But it would have been an easier conversation with my grandmother.”
“Hard to argue with that.” He shrugged and left, hopefully to make his way to my kitchen to make my toast.
If he left, we were going to have our first fight as a fake married couple.
I rolled over and felt for my phone. It was on the nightstand where I’d plugged it in to charge last night, so I pulled out the cable and pulled up my texts to Tori.
ME: I need to get fake married. Help a girl out.
Her response was immediate, as I’d expected. Unlike me, she actually was a morning person. Something about her being able to get graphic work to her clients before they were even in the office.
TORI: What’s up?
ME: I need you to photoshop pictures of me and Kai “getting married” so Grams doesn’t end up back in the ER.
TORI: I can’t see how you being pregnant outside marriage will constipate her, but okay
TORI: What do you want and when do you want it?
ME: Us looking like we just got married at the town hall, maybe a gratuitous shot of us kissing
TORI: I’m gonna need a photo of you kissing.
ME: What???
TORI: I’m not a fucking painter, Ivy. It’s no big deal to move your heads onto someone else’s body, but I need you kissing in order to be able to do that
ME: I knew this was a terrible idea
TORI: Relax. It’s not like I’m asking for a sex tape.
ME: Oh, well that’s relaxing.
TORI: It just needs to be a peck. That’s it. Two seconds. Do a burst shot if you have to to get a good one. Just kiss the guy.
TORI: It’s not like you haven’t done worse
ME: Oh, shut up
TORI: Careful, or I’ll tell Grams you’re faking it
ME: You wouldn’t dare.
TORI: No, probably not. I don’t want her wrath either.
ME: Gotta go. My toast is coming.
TORI: *kissing emoji*
TORI: Don’t forget! Smoochy smoochy smooch!
Ugh.
She was insufferable. I had no idea how I’d lasted twenty-three years of friendship without killing her.
“Your toast, Your Highness.” Kai produced a baking tray with a glass of water, glass of orange juice, and a plate with two slices of hot, buttered toast.
“Why are you using a baking tray?”
He shrugged. “I couldn’t find a real tray and I only have two hands. It’s clean, don’t worry. I scrubbed it.”
“You scrubbed it?”
“It was that or face your pregnant wrath for getting grease all over your bed.”
That was a fair point.
I smiled. Really smiled. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He smiled right back, his eyes crinkling. “I have to shower and change quickly before work. Do you need anything else?”
“No, I’m fine. Thanks.” I bit into the toast and moaned. “So good.”
He blinked at me. “Are you working tonight?”
I nodded. “Five ‘til eleven. As long as I don’t, you know, again.” I held two fingers up to my mouth and mimed throwing up. “Fingers crossed!”
“You have such a weird outlook on life,” he muttered. “All right, text me if you nee anything.”
“I will.”
He hovered.
“Why are you hovering? You’re not a bird. Stop it.”
“I know. Never mind.” He waved his hand and turned away from the bedroom. “I’ll talk to you later.”
He was gone before I had a chance to say goodbye.
That was weird.
I bit into my toast as the front door closed. This was officially the weirdest relationship I’d ever had with anybody, and I didn’t even know what kind of relationship it was. It went without saying that we were attracted to each other, but were there feelings?
At times like this, when I was alone, I didn’t think there were.
Then he hugged me or fussed over me or pulled me against him in my bed when I told him to go away and I wondered if I was losing my mind.
I really didn’t think I could trust myself right now, though.
It’d only been, what? Two days? Since I’d seen the little thing on the pregnancy test, and that meant my doctor’s appointment was tomorrow.
I had no idea what to expect from it, and honestly, I was a little scared.
Except I wasn’t sure what I was scared of anymore.
Was it the baby? Of having this baby?
Or was it the fear that this could still all go wrong?
Was this it? Had it sunk in? Had I really accepted that I was going to be a mom this quickly?
I stuffed the last piece of toast in my mouth and pushed the baking tray away. I wasn’t interested in either the orange juice or the other slice of toast—one slice and some water was pushing it this morning, apparently—and lay down on my back.
Nausea rolled through my stomach.
I closed my eyes.
Yes, I had. I’d accepted it. This was happening. It was real. I was having a baby.
I slid my hand over my stomach, resting it at the very bottom so my fingertips brushed my hip.
Somewhere, under my hand, through the layers of the skin and tissue and muscle that made up my body, there was a growing baby.
My baby.
Holy.
Fucking.
Shit.
CHAPTER EIGHT – IVY
“Well, that wasn’t a waste of time at all.” I slid into the only empty booth at Bronco’s and sagged against the plush back.
Kai moved the empty coffee cups to a nearby table and sat opposite me. “What did you expect?”
“I don’t know. Something more than the pee test I did myself?” I huffed, dropping my hands on the table. “I didn’t need my doctor to tell me I’m pregnant, Kai. I know I’m pregnant. So help me, Sophie, take that coffee around those tables before I vomit half a gallon of water over the floor,” I said to one of our servers who always worked the lunchtime shift.
As a mother of six, Sophie was more than acquainted with the symptoms of pregnancy, so she simply laughed and diverted around a table. “I’ll tell everyone the volcano has landed.”
“The volcano?” Kai quirked a brow.
I sighed. “Because I’ll erupt at the barest scent of coffee. They coined it last night. I was so mad I cried for five minutes.”
He looked like he didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or not. “I’m… sorry?”
“No, you’re not,” I said dryly. “You’re trying not to laugh, you asshole.”
“It is kind of funny.”
“It’s not funny.”
“It is.”
“It really isn’t,” I insisted, grabbing a menu to read. Like I didn’t already know it off by heart.
Kai picked up a menu with far less fervor than I had and perused it. I glanced over the top of mine, but he had his gaze firmly focused on the card in front of him.
That was so annoying.
God, I was so annoyed.
With a huff, I slammed my menu card down and stormed off to the restroom where I knew I could be irrationally annoyed by myself in a toilet stall.
I shoved the door open and let it slam behind me then locked myself into a stall. The clink of the toilet seat reverberated off the empty restroom when I shut it, and I dropped myself onto it with a heavy sigh.
And buried my face into my hands.
I couldn’t believe I’d just paid my doctor to tell me I was pregnant.
Seriously.
I’d already dropped, like, forty bucks on pregnancy tests that had done just that. It really was a waste of my time, because she’d admitted that she couldn’t do anything right now because it was too soon, so bye, and she’d see me in three weeks.
Of course, she’d sent me home with a whole list of things I couldn’t eat, like sushi, and things I couldn’t do, like use a hot tub—as if those were available in our apartment building—and probably a whole bunch of other stuff that would just piss me off right now.
I buried my face in my hands and took a deep breath. I knew this was irrational, but I was tired, I was hungry, and my head was aching like crazy.
All I wanted to do was go home and curl up into my bed and wake up tomorrow morning.
I had to get a handle of this. It wasn’t going to happen overnight, and I was going through so many changes, but that was no excuse to be a raging bitch.
Especially to Kai.
I mean, this was partially his fault, but still. He wasn’t the one who was making me tired, though. It was something out of everyone’s control, and if I was going to make it through the next few months, I had to deal with the frustration.
In related news, I had to get some tissues ordered on next day delivery.
After another moment of silence, I took a deep breath and stood up. While I was here, I took control of business in the stall, then headed out to wash my hands and fix myself up.
Leaning on the edge of the counter, I peered at myself in the huge, glaringly lit mirrors. I not only felt exhausted, but I looked it, too. Shallow bags had taken up residence under my eyes, my cheeks were extra flushed, and there was a huge pimple forming on the most awkward spot on my chin.
Great.
I had to deal with teenage acne again, too.
I wiped under my eyes, washed my hands, and escaped the confines of the bathroom. It was getting warm in there,
and I was thankful for the cool blast of air conditioning as I stepped into the bar.
It wasn’t like June in Montana was blazing hot, but it still felt good.
I slipped back to the booth. Kai had switched from the menu to his phone, and two tall glasses of ice water were sitting on coasters in the middle of the table.
He glanced up for a second before he resumed tapping. “You looked like you could use some water.”
I was thirsty, actually. “Thank you.” I slid the water to me, pulled the paper wrapper off the straw, and put it in the glass so I could take a long drink.
He didn’t look up, and I trained my gaze on the ice cubes in the glass in front of me.
“Sorry,” I said softly, still looking into the cup.
“What for?”
“Being a miserable bitch.”
He chuckled lightly, putting his phone screen down on the table. “You’re annoyed. I get it. I’d be annoyed, too, if I were you.”
“Oh, stop it!” I threw a napkin at him.
It failed miserably, flopping to the table immediately in front of me.
His eyebrows shot up.
“No, don’t look at me like that!” I gripped my cup tightly. “Being annoyed or tired or hormonal doesn’t give me the right to be a bitch to you.”
“I see why they call you the volcano.”
“I’m trying to be nice here.”
Kai reached over and picked up the napkin I’d attempted to throw at him. He laid it out flat between us, flattening his hands over it until it was all but straightened again.
“I ordered for you,” he said, focusing on ripping his own straw open. “Sophie said you like the grilled cheese, and you look a little tired so she recommended a side of tomato soup. I was going to wait, but you were in there a while. Is that okay? She said you can change it if you want.”
I swallowed, fiddling with another napkin. “That’s fine. I’m not massively hungry anyway.”
“You haven’t eaten anything today.”
I didn’t reply.