Baby Yours

by Kennedy Fox

Chapter Sixteen

  Lennon

  It’s been a month since the hospital tour, and I’d be lying if I said the thought of Hunter having a baby with Jenna didn’t make me a tad bit stabby.

  Okay, a lot stabby.

  I know what Hunter said and that his chances of having kids are low, which I believe, but even if there’s a one in a million chance that he could, what if Jenna’s right, and he really is the father?

  That thought weighs on me, though it shouldn’t, considering he’s not mine to be territorial of. I still feel protective of him, though, as my best friend. Maybe it was those feelings or the fact that I keep resisting how I truly feel that had me texting him that night to lay with me.

  The moment he wrapped his body around mine, I didn’t care about the consequences, the guilt, or the past. All that I could think of was the present and how badly I wanted him to touch me—even if just once. I didn’t actually think he would, though I should’ve known better. His hands so intimately on my body caught every nerve on fire, and I burned hot for him. I needed him—in any way he’d give me—and when my body shook, I knew my feelings poured out after holding them back.

  I was lusting over him.

  Or worse—falling.

  That night with him in the dark is exactly where things between us stayed. When I woke up the next morning, he was gone. I found him in the kitchen, making breakfast, and it was as if nothing happened. We ate together like always, I left for work, and he texted me a couple of times to check on me. That night, we ate dinner together, watched the season’s final episode of YOU that had us both dropping our jaws, and chatted more about baby names.

  I couldn’t tell if he wasn’t bringing it up for my sake or if he wanted us to pretend it never happened since I nearly begged him to touch me in the first place. Did he only do it to make me happy and he was now embarrassed? Was it too awkward to even discuss?

  Did he wish it never happened?

  The thoughts flooded my mind for days, and since he never brought it up, neither did I. Now a month has passed, and it’s like we’ve both decided to take this secret to the grave. I’m not sure what I would say anyway if he did mention it, especially after all this time, but I can’t help thinking what it meant to him—if anything.

  Did it mean as much to him as it did to me?

  Why would it? He poured his heart out to me, and I turned him down. Now all I can think about is how he touched me out of pity, and the thought gives me secondhand embarrassment.

  Ugh.

  We managed to survive Thanksgiving together. It was the first big holiday without Brandon, which brought on bouts of sadness, but Sophie and Maddie came over, and we all feasted together. Didn’t hear from my mother either, not that I expected to at this point. My sisters helped keep my mind busy enough not to dwell on my feelings, though.

  Then Mason and Liam stopped over later to watch football with Hunter. We decided to make this our new Friendsgiving tradition and watch all the Friends holiday episodes.

  Of course, Maddie then suggested we play football with girls versus boys. I kindly reminded her I was too pregnant to even walk to the bathroom without losing my breath.

  With the baby coming any day now, everything is ready and set up. Baby items have not only taken over my bedroom and closet, but a few family friends sent us a high chair, jumper, sleeper rocker, swing, and bouncy seat, which are now in the kitchen and living room. Poor Hunter has to walk through a maze to get from one room to the other.

  He hasn’t complained once, though, not that I expect him to. Hunter’s embraced every part of this, which makes him even more incredible. He surprised me last weekend and brought home a cute stuffed bear that we named Lil Paws, so we could “test” out all the baby gear. It was adorable to see Hunter get so excited, which makes me even more sad that he can’t have kids of his own. He deserves more than anyone to find a woman who can make him happy, get married, and build a life and family with, even if it’s through adoption. I know he wants a family; I can see it in his eyes, which hurts so damn much.

  Now it’s a week before my due date, and I’ve been having contractions for the past few days. I know Braxton Hicks is common, and it’s my body’s way of practicing, but it hurts like a bitch.

  “You okay?” Hunter asks as I hunch over the couch and press a hand to my back. “More back pain?”

  “Yeah, it’s a stabbing sensation.” I squeeze my eyes and try to breathe through it. “Is it too early to ask for drugs?” I half-tease.

  “Want ice or heat?” he asks before he walks to the kitchen.

  “Both,” I reply. “And maybe a shot of tequila.”

  Hunter chuckles, and moments later, he returns with a frozen bag of veggies and a hot washcloth. “Turn a bit,” he directs, then sits behind me. He lifts my shirt and pulls down the band of my leggings.

  “On the left side, it feels like a damn Charley horse,” I tell him, fighting the pain.

  Placing the ice on my lower back, he then wraps the hot cloth around my neck. I try to relax to see if the tension will ease up, and after twenty minutes, I finally feel a lot better.

  “Would you mind grabbing me a bottle of my nail polish from the bathroom?” I ask before he takes a seat. He gives me a funny look in return. “I want to have pretty feet for labor.”

  Chuckling, he shakes his head but doesn’t say anything as he walks into the hallway. A minute later, he returns with two bottles.

  “Which color?” He holds up a pink color and a teal glittery one.

  “Your pick,” I say.

  “You want me to choose?” he asks, arching a brow.

  “Yeah.” I shrug. “Which one do you think?”

  “Hmm okay.” He holds them up and looks at them with deep consideration. “The pink one is obvious since it’s a girl, but this one…” He holds up the other. “This one says I’m a badass.”

  “That’s pretty insightful for nail polish,” I mock. “Teal it is.”

  Hunter hands it over, and I prop one foot up on the coffee table as I shake the bottle. Once I open it, I lean over as far as I can, struggling to reach my foot. When I can’t, I lean my arm around my belly and try that way.

  “Well shit.” I groan.

  “I think there’s an error in your hypothesis,” he quips, clearly holding back laughter. “Belly circumference is bigger than arm’s reach.”

  I glare up at him, a smug grin painted on his chiseled face. “Thank you, Einstein. I realize that now.” Doesn’t help that my back was just hurting earlier. “I can figure this out,” I say, more to myself than him.

  I lean my leg slightly outward, keeping my foot planted on the edge of the table, and stretch my arm out as far as possible. Barely just reaching my big toe, I manage to paint half of it. It’s half-assed, but then I realize I can’t reach the next one.

  “Ugh.” I surrender, slouching.

  Hunter clears his throat, causing me to look up at him. His arms are crossed over his broad chest as he flashes me his infamous shit-eating grin. “What?” I snap.

  “Here, give me.” He holds out his hand, and I furrow my brows at him.

  “For what?”

  “You want your nails painted or not?” He gives me a pointed look.

  My shoulders fall as I hand it over. Hunter sits down on the coffee table, takes my foot, then places it on his knee. I watch as he meticulously paints my nails, one by one, and even holds up my foot and blows on my toes to dry them faster.

  “What do you think?” he asks.

  “Well, if the construction biz doesn’t work out, you have a plan B,” I tease, smiling at how pretty they turned out. “How are you so good at that anyway?”

  “Years of carefully tearing shit down, carefully measuring things, and fine-tuning blueprints. It’s not much different actually,” he explains. “All meticulous tasks.”

  He motions for me to give him my other foot, so I do. Again, he focuses intensely on my nails and does a great job. Hunter blows on them, and once
they’re dry, I stretch my legs out and admire his work. Hunter takes his phone out and snaps a picture.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “Sending a pic of my handiwork to Hayden,” he says with a chuckle. “He’s gonna give me so much shit.”

  I snort at the fact that he’s willing to send his brother a picture, knowing he’ll be teased. His phone immediately vibrates. Hunter shakes his head with a smile after reading it.

  “What’d he say?”

  He gives me a side-glance and pops a brow.

  “What? Tell me.”

  He inhales a deep breath, then chuckles. “He said I’m whipped.”

  “Hey! Did you tell him it was your idea!”

  “No.”

  “Great. Now he probably thinks I’m a blood-sucking villain who makes you paint my toenails and wait on me hand and foot.”

  “Trust me, he doesn’t think that.” He shakes his head, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

  “Thank you, Hunter,” I tell him. “You’re a man of many talents.” In and out of the bedroom.

  I look over at him, wondering if he can read my thoughts, and when he blinks away with a nervous shiver, I fear he really can.

  Things go quiet, and when my phone beeps with a text message a minute later, I’m thankful for the distraction.

  Sophie: So I met someone.

  Lennon: WHAT? Tell me more.

  Sophie: We met through that dating app I downloaded months ago. Of course, I was reluctant at first, but then we had brunch last week, and *sigh* he’s so dreamy. Great job, owns his own house, even has a little dog.

  Lennon: Wow, really? I’m so happy for you, sis! But why is he single if he’s so ‘perfect’? Did you find his skeletons yet?

  Sophie: He says he just hasn’t found someone he’s been able to fully connect with yet. We chatted for three hours at the restaurant! It felt so natural.

  This is the most I’ve ever heard Sophie talk about a guy before, and I want to be really happy for her, but I’m also cautious. I thought my ex, Malcolm, was something special too before he cheated, tried to humiliate me, then broke my heart. Of course, I got the last word, but it still affected me for a long time.

  Lennon: YAY, that’s exciting! What’s his name? Do you have a pic of him?

  Sophie: Here’s his profile pic, and his name is Weston.

  I look at the photo she sent and give my approval with a thumbs-up emoji.

  Lennon: He looks cute. What’s his job?

  Sophie: He’s a correctional officer. His uniform is sexy too ;)

  Lennon: LOL, good to know! Do I get to meet him?

  Sophie: Not yet! Hopefully soon, though. We’re going on another date this weekend. I can’t wait!

  I can practically hear her squeals in my head, and I’m genuinely excited for her.

  “What are you laughing about?” Hunter asks.

  “Sophie. She met a guy, and she’s gushing about him. It’s pretty sweet.” I set my phone down and look at him.

  “She give up on Mason already?” The corner of his lips tilts in a mock grin.

  I snort, shrugging. “I think she was sick of waiting, and she should be. If he was interested, he had plenty of opportunities to make it known.”

  Hunter frowns, then looks away. “Well, Mason’s had a rough past, which changed him a lot. It’s not exactly if Mason’s interested in someone that’s the problem; it’s his issues that stop him. Not to mention who his father is and his family background. Let’s just say, there’s been a lot of drama.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask curiously.

  “His father is the district attorney, and I know first hand what it’s like to grow up with a father in a public position. It puts him in the spotlight, good and bad. He dated someone in college and…” He pauses, then shakes his head. “Sorry, it’s not my story to tell. I don’t know if he would want you or Sophie to know actually.”

  I nod, respecting his decision not to air out Mason’s dirty laundry, but take the opportunity to bring up something else.

  “So I heard they have a girl roommate?” I eye him and watch the corner of his mouth tilt up.

  “Had. She moved out a while ago,” he tells me.

  My mouth falls open. “So they’ve lived with some chick all this time, yet no one has ever said a word about her? Is it a big secret or something? I’ve never even met her or know her name or anything.”

  He shrugs and chuckles. “It’s complicated, and she was never really home anyway. If you wanna know, you’re gonna have to ask them. I’m sure one day it will all come out,” he says with a mock grin, teasing me. I don’t push it any further, though curiosity has the best of me. It says a lot about how much he cares about them and keeping their trust, and I don’t want to overstep.

  We spend the rest of the night munching on snacks and watching TV, and at ten, we decide to head in for the night. This last week of school before Christmas break is so busy between getting everything ready for maternity leave and writing a detailed schedule for the substitute teacher who’s taking over my class for the next three months.

  It’s three in the morning when pain shoots down my stomach to my groin. It feels like the baby is clawing her way out, and when I try to move, the pain intensifies. I manage to move onto my side and pull my knees toward my chest. The Braxton Hicks are stronger than they’ve ever been before, and breathing through them just isn’t an option. Instead, I groan, unable to hold back.

  “Lennon!” Hunter whips my bedroom door open. “Oh my God. You’re not okay.”

  “No, no, I’m fine. I just need to stand up and reposition myself,” I insist.

  Hunter grabs my hands, pulls me to my feet, and I immediately hunch over the bed as I try to catch my breath.

  “These can’t just be Braxton Hicks, Lennon. You’re in labor,” he states matter-of-factly.

  “It’s too early…” I argue. “I’m not ready. I have to work tomorrow. I can hold her in. It’s probably false labor anyway.”

  “Lennon, what?” he asks startled.

  Glancing over at Hunter, he looks at me as if I’ve gone crazy.

  “You are ready! You’re just freaking out because it’s really time! We have to get you to the hospital.”

  Not letting me argue, he goes to his room and comes back dressed thirty seconds later. He grabs my hospital bag from my closet, then asks if I want to change.

  “No, they’ll make me wear a gown anyway,” I tell him, then he’s taking my hand and leading me out the door.

  Everything moves at double speed when we get to the labor and delivery floor. They immediately admit me into a room, hook me up to the monitors, insert an IV, and I learn I’m already four centimeters dilated.

  I text Sophie and Maddie, knowing they’re probably sleeping and won’t see my messages, but I want them to know as soon as possible. Hunter, of course, is a godsend, constantly asking me what I need, getting me ice chips, and rubbing my shoulders. The fact that he’s never experienced this before has me wondering how he’s so calm and eager to help in any way he can. I thought I’d be the one talking him through this, but instead, Hunter’s keeping me relaxed.

  The nurses assume Hunter’s the dad, and since neither of us correct them, they wrap a hospital bracelet around his wrist. He might not have fathered this baby, but he’s just as invested in this as I am.

  “I want you in here,” I tell him after the fourth hour of waiting.

  “I am,” he says, furrowing his brows.

  Tilting my head, I shoot him a look. “I mean when it’s time to deliver,” I clarify. “I know we haven’t really talked about it, considering everything, but as I’ve learned, plans change.”

  “You do? Really? Are you sure?”

  I grin at him, nodding. “Absolutely. Well, I’m ordering you to stay above my waist, though.”

  Hunter cracks a smile and laughs. “Deal.”

  An hour later, my doctor arrives and breaks my water to speed up the progress. Dr
. Potter warns me the contractions are about to get more painful, and if I want the epidural, it’s now or never.

  “Yes, please. It’s hurting badly already.” I wince. She squeezes my hand, then tells me she’ll be back.

  “I can’t believe I’m going to meet her soon,” I say to Hunter once the room clears out. “It feels surreal.” He stands next to the bed, then bends down and kisses my forehead. “I’m scared,” I admit. “It’s so painful.”

  “I know.” He brushes his hand across my cheek, then fixes the flyaway hairs on my face. I actually love when he does that. It’s so comforting. “Brandon would be so excited. He’d be losing his damn mind,” Hunter tells me with a soft smile, and tears well in my eyes. He knows I was thinking about Brandon and always knows just what to say. I wish he were here to experience this with me, and I miss him so damn much, but knowing I’m about to have his baby gives me the strength to do this without him. Though I don’t always feel strong, and there are days I just want to curl into a ball, I feel his presence. It gives me the comfort I need to keep moving forward.

  Twenty minutes later, a crew comes in ready to give me the epidural. I can already feel the contractions coming harder and faster. I try to catch my breath as I pant through them. Holy fuck.

  As they explain the procedure, my eyes widen at the needle and the fact that I need to be completely still or I could get nerve damage or worse. I know the risks, but seeing and experiencing it is different than just reading about it.

  One of the nurses nearly folds me in half over the bed while I hold a pillow to my chest. Hunter’s standing next to her, looking concerned as hell, and though I can’t talk or move, I make eye contact with him to let him know I’m okay.

  “You’re doing great. Almost done,” a nurse says.

  I try to steady my breathing, and when the anesthesiologist tells me it’s in, and she just needs to tape it up, I release a relieved sigh.