Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
“I know how to make them.” I let out a pretend gasp.
“Out of all these sneaky secrets you have, I can’t believe you’d keep the food ones from me.”
“I’ll do better.” He smirks. I drop my head back, wanting a kiss. He gives me one. “Eat. I’m going to hop in the shower.”
“Maybe I could join you.” Z’s hand slides between my thighs, cupping my sex.
“Are you sore?”
“I’m okay.”
“Not what I asked.”
“A little.”
“I’ll kiss it better,” he says against my lips. “After you eat.” Z pulls back. “You’ve lost weight.”
“You think?” The second I ask, the whole pregnancy thing comes rushing back. How the hell did that slip my mind again? I totally blame him. He can be very distracting.
Still, how could I do that? Of course I did. This is probably one of the reasons I shouldn’t be a mom. I can’t cook, and now I’m forgetting about the baby. My stomach twists with the thought of me not being able to be a good mom.
“Not much, but I want to know you’re okay.”
"Go take your shower." I nudge him, wanting a few minutes to collect my thoughts, but Z doesn't move. In fact, his eyes narrow on me.
"You know I can read you, Cosima." I’ll have to learn to school my emotions a bit better. Not that I want to hide things from him, but I’m not used to having to explain them to anyone.
“I need to eat my breakfast.” I shove a giant bite into my mouth. It’s a bad idea. The sudden wave of nausea hits out of nowhere. “Oh God,” I say with a mouth full of food, pushing Z out of the way. Thankfully he doesn’t hold me in place, a new habit of his that turns me on when it should piss me off.
He lets me rush past him and straight into my bedroom's bathroom, where I throw up. Z is right there, holding my hair, his arm slipping around to support me as I lose the rest of my breakfast.
“It’s okay, let it out,” he says encouragingly. His words are laced with worry.
“This is your fault,” I mutter when I think I’m done.
“I’ll take omelets off the breakfast list.” Z turns on the water, wetting a cloth for me. He presses it to my mouth. “Better?” I nod. He grabs my toothbrush for me, putting paste on it.
I have gone from Z and me fighting all the time and avoiding each other to him being my shadow and treating me as though I’m a delicate flower.
“I’m going to call the doctor.”
“The doctor?”
“There is only one with a practice in town.”
“And you already know who that is?”
“We’ve been in contact.” he shrugs. Well, then.
“I don’t need a doctor. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine, and you will be seeing a doctor.” The finality of his words leaves no room for argument, but when has that ever stopped me?
“Like I said, I don’t need a doctor.” I push back.
“Didn’t ask you what you needed.” I narrow my eyes on him, feeling my emotions starting to bubble up inside of me. Two seconds ago, I was enjoying him taking care of me and now because I’m scared of what kind of reaction he’s going to have when he finds out I’m pregnant, it’s not so appealing anymore.
“Don’t be a dick.”
“I’ll be whatever I have to when it comes to taking care of you.”
Gah, he makes it hard to be mad at him when he’s being a sweet, bossy asshole. My eyes start to fill with tears. If I thought I was emotional before, this is a whole new level unlocked.
“Baby.” I push myself into him, burying my face in his chest. The smell and feel of him calming me. “Everything is okay.” He keeps me pressed tight against him. I feel delicate and small in his hold.
“What if it’s not okay? What if it’s bad?” I mumble into his chest. Z must speak Cosima well because he understands what I said.
“We’ll handle it together.”
“What if you don’t want to handle it?” I drop my head back to peer up at him. I have no clue how Z might take this information. He’s never talked about what he wants out of life when it comes to things such as marriage and babies.
"Babe, if you're involved, I will be handling it." His eyes search my face. "Cosima, you used to get pissy with how much I've handled things in your life, and now you suddenly think I would be different?" I sniff. He has a point. I bury my face in his chest again and take a deep breath. I shake my head back and forth. "I know you're using me as a tissue." I snort a laugh, totally busted.
"Okay." I huff a breath. "I think I'm pregnant." I just say it. There is no point in drawing it out. His whole body goes rock solid. "See, you're freaking out." I try to step back, but in Z fashion, his hand cups the back of my neck so that I can't go anywhere. I hate how hot that is.