Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
I place Amelie on the bed. Her eyes flicker beneath her closed lids, and I hope it won’t be long until I can see her pretty green eyes. “Can you make a cold compress? I’m going to take off her shoes. Maybe she’ll come to soon,” I say. My gaze travels down the length of her body, looking to see if maybe an article of clothing or a piece of jewelry is too tight, causing her to faint.
“Of course.” Not seeing anything out of place, I deftly untie one shoe, then the other, tossing the white canvas sneakers to the floor. Isa returns quicker than expected.
“Mom, Boston, what are the two of you doing in my room?” Amelie opens one eye at a time, squinting as Isabelle lays the cold washcloth along her forehead.
“You fainted. Boston carried you up the stairs. Are you feeling any better, honey?”
“I’m fine.” She attempts to sit up, but her body protests. I’m move closer and set my hands on her shoulders, firmly yet gently pressing them down until she silently listens.
“You’re not fine. I’m calling Nessa, and if she doesn’t give me the right answer, I’ll either take you to the doctor or have one come here.” Amelie rolls her eyes.
“I like him, Am. I’m going to go take care of a few things. You’re off the clock for the entire day. I don’t want you leaving this room unless Boston says it’s okay, you hear? Even then, I’ll bring you up food and hot tea.”
“I’m not going anywhere, promise. But no food. Don’t talk about it, don’t bring it around, please, I’m begging you.” I arch an eyebrow, wondering if maybe she has the stomach bug. No fucking way could the two of us end up like Parker and Nessa, both of them getting sick, one after another; it also helped them get where they are today.
“Fine, but I’m bringing hot tea and toast. Final answer.” Amelie nods. Isabelle swoops down, pushing a few tendrils of hair off her forehead and placing a kiss there before heading for the door.
“Amelie.”
“I have something I need to tell you,” we say at the same time. My hackles are rising. My phone is already out of my pocket, thumb hovering over Nessa’s contact, when her hand covers mine. A tightness in my gut makes me stop, waiting for her to continue.
SEVEN
Amelie
“I’m pregnant.” God, I’m an idiot, blurting out the reason why I was suddenly ready to blow chunks at the smell of cooked eggs. An aversion to food is what this baby has given me so far, along with sore boobs, which are so sore even a bra hurts. Yay me, I grumble internally. So, I missed a period, an overwhelming sickness to my mother’s cooking of breakfast, and boobs that are trying to make me cry at the merest touch.
“How far along?” Boston, who is always composed, is losing his shit. His hand is running through his hair, and he is pacing the side of the bed. I get it. Where he is right now I was hours ago. It’s a lot to take in. Though, my intuition was blinking like a yellow light at an intersection warning about caution ahead, the street is curving, and that curve is going to be your belly before too long. After he’s done pacing between the foot of the bed and the nightstand, he finally stops and sits down next to my hip, hands pulling my shirt up, confusing me.
“I’m not exactly sure. What are you doing?” I ask when Boston has my abdomen completely bared then attempts to pull down my shorts. “Umm, Boston, I know this is a lot to take in, but sex isn’t the way to talk through our problems.” He doesn’t say anything, instead murmurs a few words. Too bad they’re too low to decipher. Instead, another bout of nausea hits me. Getting up is going to be a hardship, especially with the way Boston is currently cradling my stomach. No words leave his mouth. Our combined breathing is the only noise in the room.
“Give me a moment. Shit, I’ve got to call Nessa.” My eyes bulge, at him bringing another woman into this. I reach for a pillow beside me and hit him upside the head with it while he’s unaware. “Jesus, what was that for?”
“I tell you I’m pregnant, and all you have to say is another women’s name. Gee, I don’t fucking know why I’m ready to suffocate you at this very moment. Please move. I’ve got to use the bathroom.” Boston takes the down-filled weapon away from me, annoying me further as he’s taking his sweet time to give me an explanation. And judging by the riot that’s rolling inside me, chest burning, I really won’t have enough time to hear his excuse. “Gotta go. Move.” I move my legs, hand going over my mouth, the sensation almost too much to bear.