Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Stephanie’s arm around my stomach gets tighter and she murmurs, “No. Stay.”
A jolt of pure happiness races through me from head to toe. It’s not the first time I’ve slept in bed with her all night, but it is the first time I feel like she wants me here for reasons other than she falls into an exhausted sleep because I fucked her so thoroughly.
“Okay,” I say quickly before she can change her mind, and she gives me a squeeze in return.
“So, that was a trip today, huh?” she says softly, and I know exactly what she’s talking about. Stephanie had to return to work after the doctor’s appointment and I had to work out as well as do laundry and some other odds and ends like paying bills. But she’d invited me over and I came loaded with Italian subs and Cherry Garcia ice cream. We ate, we made love, but this is the first time we’ve talked about the doctor’s appointment.
“I can’t believe how fast his heartbeat was,” I tell her.
She nods against me and I can actually feel her smile through her body into mine. “You said his. Wanting a boy?”
“I don’t care if it’s a girl or a boy, just as long as it looks like you and not my ugly mug,” I reply jokingly.
Chuckling, she squeezes me again and I tighten my hold around her. “Your mug is the furthest thing from ugly.”
We fall silent but I want more. “What do you want?” I ask her.
Stephanie doesn’t respond right away and I sense in the sudden stillness of her body that she’s trying to figure out how to word it. When she answers, my heart ripples almost painfully for all she never had. “What do I want? I guess I just…want. Doesn’t matter what the gender is. I just want, and that’s become terrifyingly real to me since this morning. Is that selfish?”
“Nothing wrong with wanting,” I tell her gently and as a reminder to stay true to her feelings. “It’s human nature.”
And then I know Stephanie’s had enough with the sharing as she pulls away from me and rolls to her back. “I got a job offer.”
My head pops up off the pillow in surprise and I roll to my side to look at her. Going up on my elbow, I notice her face is troubled as she stares at the ceiling.
“In Greensboro?” I ask.
She nods. “It’s actually with an architectural firm and it’s doing project planning.”
“But that’s not your background,” I say dumbly.
Stephanie chuckles and rolls her head to look at me. “Yes, but there’s not a lot of jobs in geology. I have project planning experience, though, and they think I’m trainable.”
Fuck. Just fuck.
Stephanie moving to Greensboro means I lose her. It’s hard enough with my schedule getting time to see her, but add her move to another city and it will be almost impossible. On top of that, she’ll be getting her medical care there, and I will probably be cut out of many of the visits while the season is still going on.
And fuck, what does that say about me that my first concern is losing her, the second losing out on the doctor’s appointments?
“What are you going to do?” I ask, my tongue thick and practically glued to the top of my mouth.
She gives a tiny shrug of nonchalance, but her face remains troubled as she looks back to the ceiling. “I don’t know what to do. It’s a job. Nothing earth shattering. Pays about the same as the museum. I’d have to move, of course, but I’ve got savings to do that. It’s doable…”
She trails off, lets her last words hover.
“But,” I prompt her to continue.
Her neck twists and her eyes come back to mine. “I feel like I need to be sensitive to your needs.”
“My needs?” I ask, because those are many and varied when it comes to Stephanie.
She nods. “With the pregnancy. You want to be involved.”
“I do,” I say softly. And I want you, but I won’t say that. It would freak her out, and I’m not sure I really want to deal with the rejection I’d probably get back.
Stephanie studies me, her eyes flickering with indecision, and then finally resolve. I brace for what she might say. “I don’t think I want to deal with the hassle of a move. I don’t want that type of stress.”
Disappointment as keen as a razor’s edge cuts through me that she’s not giving me the reasons I want, but I maintain a neutral expression.
“Do you need help financially?” I ask hesitantly, because if she only wants to stay here to let me be involved with the pregnancy, I’ll take that for sure.
Her refusal is swift and adamant, and not surprising. “No. I have some other job prospects and the museum still might find a place for me. As long as I can get health insurance, things will be fine. And I’ve got a lot in savings.”