Less than ten minutes later, Zyah let me know that the driver was waiting on me. I gave hugs to my sister and brother-in-law. I even gave a quick one to Kolby.
“It was nice meeting you.”
“The pleasure was all mine. I hope to see you around, Ryann. And if you’re ever open to hanging out, please let me know. I would love the opportunity to spoil you.”
My cheeks heated with another blush. Kolby Gardner was charming if he wasn’t anything else. I nodded my head. “I will, Kolby. I like your energy.”
“Thank you. I like yours, too.” He took my hand and kissed it. And it wasn’t corny. It was sweet. Well, my pregnancy brain processed it as sweet. The warmth of his mouth was still on my mind even when I made it to the car.
When I got home, the first thing I did was make a beeline to the bathroom. The stream of pee I let out was ridiculous. There was no reason that a human should have that much liquid in their bladder. I finished washing my hands just as my doorbell rang. I hurried from the bathroom to the front door, surprised to find Brixton standing there.
“Hey,” I said in an upbeat tone, despite the frown on his face.
“What happened to you finishing the great room today, Ry? I thought maybe you left before I got home because you weren’t feeling well. Then, I jump on my socials and you’re on there parlaying with some nigga?” He took a breath. “I know you’re single. You have the right to date. That’s not what I’m saying?—”
“I’m not dating.”
“You sure? I mean, you were cheesing, he was cheesing. He had his arm around you caking?—”
“Brix,” I began, but all of a sudden, I couldn’t catch my breath. I put my hand to my chest and then to my throat.
For a second he stood there, the frown remaining plastered on his face, but then, the frown dropped. “Oh shit! Are you okay? What the fuck?”
“Call my doctor,” I managed to force out with the little bit of air I could take in. The thought that my daughter wasn’t getting air caused my chest to constrict even more.
Finally, something like relief registered on Brixton’s face. “Panic attack,” he announced. “Ry!” He said my name forcefully, causing my eyes to fly to his. “Focus on breathing.”
What the hell did he think I was focusing on? If I could’ve spoken, I would’ve told his ass off.
“Imagine yourself forcing oxygen down to your womb for the princess. Long, deep breaths that go all the way down to your stomach and give her what she needs.”
I let my mind wrap around that and focused on calming myself. Then I concentrated on imaging my breaths traveling through my body until they reached baby girl and provided her with necessary oxygen. While I did that, Brixton spoke with the doctor, who apparently gave him more suggestions that he gave to me. It didn’t take too long for the episode to pass, but once it did, I just wanted to go to bed.
Brixton carried me to my bedroom, respectfully undressed me, and help me into shorty pajamas. Then he divested himself of his own clothing, climbed into my bed, and held me all night.
The next morning, the two of us dressed in silence. He took me to the doctor’s office so that Dr. Butler could check little princess out and make sure everything was good with her. Once we got the all clear from the doctor, I asked Brixton to take me home. I needed time to think.
I was wasting time crushing on Brixton when somebody like Kolby was interested in getting to know me.
After a few hoursof chilling at home, I decided to head on over to Brixton’s. I knew he wouldn’t be there, because Wednesday was the day that he had physical therapy on his left ankle. I planned to get the great room set up, then I would leave Brixton’s keys and walk away from the job.
I felt bad about not finishing his bedroom, but the whole ordeal was taking an emotional toll on me that I didn’t need. Wanting him the way I did, having to be in his house with his things, smelling his scent and feeling his presence—there was no way those mental gymnastics could be good for my baby.
It took way longer than I anticipated for the movers to get things set-up. Part of it was my fault. Me and my pregnancy brain were indecisive as hell. I had them placing, moving,replacing, shifting, and all sorts of madness before I was finally satisfied with the end result. When Brixton walked into his place after a long day, he would be greeted by a well-appointed, neutral space that offered function, comfort, and a touch of coziness.
I set his key on the kitchen island, picked up my purse, and headed for the front door. I stopped momentarily to fluff the leaves of the faux olive tree I put in his foyer. The door opened and in walked Brixton.
Dayum! If I had just left five minutes earlier. “Hey.”
“Hey.” He looked me up and down critically, purse in hand. “Where you going?” He looked past me into the great room. “Yo.” A smile broke out on his unfairly handsome face.
Dayum!
He grabbed me by the hand and pulled me into the great room. From where we stood, we could see the living and dining areas. We could also see the kitchen.
“It looks good as hell, Ry.” He released me, walked over to the living room, and ran his hand over the fabric of the sofa. It was a soft and textured performance chenille in a very pale camel color.
I watched as he made his way to the dining table. It was made of a gorgeous white pine. It sat six people without the leaf and eight to ten with it.
