A loud vibration rattles inside Liam’s pocket. “I put this in ‘do not disturb’ for a reason,” he mutters, pulling out his phone. His eyes widen, narrowing on the screen, and he rakes a frustrated hand through his hair with a tiny groan. “Ah, shit, Evie, my dad scheduled a meeting for me today, but Alice forgot to put it on my calendar, and it’s across town. I gotta—” He glances at his crumpled mess of a shirt and sighs.
“Oh yeah, no—I totally get that. That was probably enough practice for one day anyway.”
Liam’s face falls, and my brow furrows as I study the transformation. “Right. Solid practice. Good job,team.” He hesitates, offering his hand for a high-five, which I almost whiff on, swinging my hand to meet his.
“I’m sure we’ll get less awkward eventually.” I blush.
“That’s why we’re practicing, right?”
“Right.” A tight smile stretches across my face.
He pauses, hanging on to the top of the doorframe. His half-unbuttoned shirt exposes the top of his ridges, stretched taut in this position. “Can I see you again soon?”
“Yeah, of course. Whenever you’re free, I’ll brie around.”
Must. Stop. Making. Cheese. Puns. After. Making. Out. With. A. Man.
“Great.” He releases the door frame and stares for half a second. “Okay, well then—I’m going to—” He shakes his head and steps forward, laying a soft, breathless kiss on my lips, like he’s savoring the moment. “Just in case you change your mind between now and then.” His thumb brushes my cheek.
His phone chimes again, and he groans.
“I won’t. Go do your big adult things.” I raise on my tiptoes and press another quick kiss to his nose.
He nods, turning away and grumbling, “Being an adult is the worst.”
Honestly, mood.
13
Pour Some Sugar on Me
I’mflaringharderthanTom Hanks on a deserted island.
And I need to find a way to push through it to finish my Thursday baking session for the blog.
I lay out several empty white bowls on the countertop, label each a color of the rainbow, and attach a corresponding sticky note to the front—a strategy I employed long ago to combat the severe brain fog plaguing me. The less recall needed, the better. Sighing, I slowly breathe through the pressure swelling in my abdomen, covering my stomach like a pair of high-waisted barbed-wire underwear.
If I went out in public like this, some tourist would undoubtedly ask when I’m due, and I’d give them hard-to-follow directions to the Eiffel Tower because I’m petty.
The hot water bottle wrapped around my distended abdomen slips slightly, and I tighten the strap holding it in place. It’s on the edge of too hot and burning my skin, but today’s flare is a good ten out of ten pain-wise, so the extra heat is appreciated and desperately needed.
At this point, ibuprofen isn’t going to cut it. I’ll have to take my heavier pain meds, but trying to bake under the influence of my narcotics usually gives Maria a heart attack, so I’ll have to wait until I’m done for more substantial relief.
My round ligament convulses on my left side, pulling my ovary with it since endo bound them in an unholy union. I uncrunch my middle, stretching as lightning-like pains streak through my ass and down my thigh, radiating to my calf. Endo is hardcore bullying my bowel today. Honestly, total crap.
Maria descends the loft staircase where her makeshift office lays, and I pray what happens next is silent.
Unfortunately, it is not.
At all.
And a big, comical wet fart worthy of a sound effect board is broadcasted throughout the apartment.
Maria doesn’t break her stride as I break wind. “Oh, is it that time of the month, dear?” she asks, raising on her tiptoes and pulling down the “Evie’s Farting Like a Fratboy After a Night of Pizza and Beer” box of supplies with various candles and deodorizers from over the fridge.
“Unfortunately,” I groan, pressing on my abdomen. I push right on the tender spot, massaging it a bit, and the sudden prick from the pressure takes my breath away.
Maria pauses her spray down of the apartment and narrows her gaze. “Do you think you should be baking? If you get behind on your pain meds, you won’t be able to control it later.”
