Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 113584 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113584 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Just as Hightower walks in. “Oh Jesus,” Abbie breathes.
“And this is Abbie’s boyfriend,” I declare on a sing of delight. It’s the nerves. Must be. Casey steps back. Abbie wilts.
“Welcome, everyone!” I look at Jude, like, What the hell do we do with this?
He shrugs, as lost as me.
And some pee trickles out. “Fuck, I’m peeing myself again.”
“Amelia!” Mum scorns me as I rootle through my bag and whip out my spare knickers.
But then a loud whoosh rings through the lobby, and I still, just as I feel a gush. Then hear a splash. “Oh,” I breathe, peeking down at the puddle I’m standing in.
“Yeah, I don’t think those knickers are gonna do the trick,” Rhys says, as Jude rushes over.
“And here we go,” he says, cool as can be.
“But we have another three weeks!”
“Something tells me we don’t, baby.” Scooping me up, he heads for the stairs.
“Rachel should be first!”
“You’re bursting my eardrums, Amelia.”
“We’re not ready!”
Jude winces at my sound level, giving me adoring green eyes. “Baby, we are so fucking ready.”
I puddle in his arms, my bottom lip sticking out. “We are?”
“For anything.”
My lips push into his rough cheek, emotion taking me by surprise. “I love you,” I mumble, my voice broken. I don’t know whether it’s the sudden movement, but my stomach clenches, the pressure below increases, and a very intense desire to push overcomes me. “Shit.”
“What?”
“I think I need to push,” I say, panicked, as Jude walks casually to the stairs with me in his arms.
“Already?” he asks, scanning my face.
“Don’t sound surprised, kids,” Grandma chirps. “Your dad fell right out of me into the loo.”
“Oh my God,” I breathe. Dad gasps his horror, and Clark and Grandpa cackle like old women.
“I definitely need to push,” I blurt, the pressure bearing down.
“Breathe,” Jude orders. “Come on, you’ve done this before.”
“Have I?” I start to pant. “Did we have a baby already, and I missed it?”
He looks at me tiredly as he takes the stairs, apparently in no hurry at all. “In classes.”
I start to pant. “The pool’s not even full.”
“We can fix that.”
“I don’t think there’s time.” My stomach tightens and a wave of unbearable pain washes over me. “Oh my God,” I gasp, gritting my teeth, trying to keep up with the breathing. “Oh Jesus, Jude, it hurts.” The pain’s taken me by surprise, not because I naively thought I’d sail through this with none, but simply because of how fast it’s come on.
He backs through all the doors to the apartment. “Do you want to sit, stand, walk?”
“I don’t know,” I admit as he lowers me to my feet. “Stand. No, walk.” I hold my belly as Jude starts to fill the pool, calling Glenda as he does.
A long, strangled moan falls past my lips, my hand shooting out to grab the cabinet. Jude looks up from where he’s kneeling by the pool. My eyes close, my hand waving his concern off. “Shit,” he curses. “Glenda’s not answering.”
He abandons the pool and comes to me, hooking his arms through mine from behind, taking most of my weight. I’m grateful.
“I need to walk.”
“Then let’s walk,” he murmurs, starting to step slowly, letting me set the pace. Three steps in, I have to stop again. “Another one?” he asks gently, and I nod jerkily, my cheeks ballooning. “Come on, baby, I’ve got you.”
I release a racked sob, his words, our words, hitting me in the feels along with the contraction. “This isn’t how I planned it,” I cry. “It’s supposed to be calm and serene and enjoyable.” Everything feels like a total rush.
“Everyone is here, Amelia. The whole fucking family. Both sides. That’s fucking amazing.”
The pain passes, but the desire to push remains, the heaviness bearing down unreal. “Walk,” I say, clinging to his arms as he starts to move us again, taking us round the lounge a few times until the pool is suitably full. He stops me by the side and puts my hands on his shoulders for support, then bends and takes the bottom of my dress, pulling it over my bump and head.
After removing my bra and knickers, he lifts me over the edge. “Warm enough?” he asks, holding my hand as I feel my way down. I nod and settle, the signs of another contraction on its way. I wave my arm, silently demanding his hand, closing my eyes, bracing myself. It’s another intense one, the pain like nothing I’ve felt before.
“I’m not sure I’m built for this,” I mumble, my head resting on the back of the pool, my eyes closed. I’m so tired already.
“What? Labour?” he asks, pulling my hair into a high ponytail.
“Yeah.”
“You’ve got no choice. My kid’s inside you. I need you to push it out.”
I blindly reach back and smack him on the head. “It hurts.”
“Try being involved in a high-speed RTA.”