The worried look on Adrian’s face became a little less worried. He plucked at the hem of his shirt with his thumb, then shook his head as if making a decision. “Let’s just get going. I don’t want to be late to thisappointment.”
“Neither do I.” Sterling opened the passenger side door for Adrian and held it in place while Adrian settled on the seat. “And we won’t be. You cantrustme.”
The disconnected look on Adrian’s face said that he didn’t think that statement was true, but Sterling didn’t let it get to him. All he could do was continue to prove that not only was he an exceptional man, but that he was an exceptional fatheraswell.
One day, Adrian would see that, and he’d come around. At least, that was the hope Sterlingclungto.
He sank down into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and left the Lowe estatebehind.
* * *
“Areyou experiencing any signs of morningsickness?”
“No.” Adrian grasped his knees, his fingertips pushed so tightly against his patellas that the pads of his fingers turned white. “I’ve been really healthy so far. I don’t feel pregnantatall.”
“That’s good. Sometimes you’ll notice changes between your first and second trimester. If you do start feeling ill more often, I wouldn’t worry too much about it unless the nausea becomes debilitating or overly severe. In your case, I think you might not have toworry.”
“I hope so.” Adrian released his knees and ran his fingers up his thighs. Sterling watched him trace along the denim, remembering how soft and pale his skin was beneath it. “There’s enough going on that being sick isn’t high on myprioritylist.”
“Unfortunately, priority lists tend to go out the window when your body is busy creating new life.” Dr. Harris, an older woman with rounded glasses and frizzy gray hair, smiled kindly at him. Then her gaze turned to Sterling. “Upon what date did hisheatend?”
Sterling struggled to find a satisfactory answer. “He wasn’t in heat when he conceived, but we can trace the date back about eight weeks—on thethird.”
Adrian squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I wasn’t supposed to go into heat for anothermonth.”
“Sometimes stress will do that.” Dr. Harris jotted a few quick notes on her patient file. As she wrote, she carried the conversation. “Speaking of stress, are you on any medications, or are there any other concerns that will complicate thepregnancy?”
A sour look twisted Adrian’s lips, and Sterling heard the snark in his voice before Adrian said anything at all. He imagined the answer Adrian wantedtogive.
Well, the fact that I want nothing to do with it might complicatethings.
But the response he gave was much more tame. “I was prescribed benzos four years ago to treat my panic disorder. I’ve nevertakenthem.”
Dr. Harris’ lips twitched, then she clicked the cap of her pen a few times and looked at Adrian curiously. “Did you seek alternative treatment for yourdisorder?”
“…No.”
“Are you still struggling with theconditionnow?”
“I haven’t in the last two months.” The more Adrian spoke, the more uncomfortable he looked. “My last episode was probably a week or a week-and-a-half before Iconceived.”
“Are you seekingpsychiatrichelp?”
“No.” Adrian fidgeted in his chair. “I’m fine. It’s not all that bad. It doesn’t happen toooften.”
“But the problem is that it does happen. The strain of pregnancy puts you at risk for relapse, and there have been studies to suggest that elevated levels of cortisol may have an effect on the development of the fetalbrain.”
“So I won’t put myself in situations where I could get triggered. That’s all.” Adrian wouldn’t meet the doctor’s gaze. “Listen, can we just get on with it? Apart from the whole panic disorder thing, there isn’t anything to worry about. I don’t smoke, I don’t do drugs, and I won’t be drinking anymore. I’ll watch the things I eat and I’ll take whatever vitamins you recommend I take. That’s kind of what this is about,isn’tit?”
There was the same catty aggression in Adrian’s voice that Sterling recognized from the club, but now that he was starting to connect the pieces of Adrian’s life, Sterling heard it for what it really was. Beneath the shell of standoffish behavior was vulnerability—a quiet kind of sadness that begged to be corrected. How could he get through to the Adrian that Adrian was hiding away from theworld?
For a moment, Dr. Harris looked irritated, but that moment quickly passed. With a click of her pen, she met Sterling’s gaze. “I’m sorry, Mr. Holt, but would you mind taking the younger Mr. Lowe to stand out in the hall? The next portion of the checkup isconfidential.”
Leaving Adrian alone with the doctor seemed like a bad idea, but nothing could be done about it. Sterling nodded, then looked to Gabriel. “Is that okaywithyou?”
“Yes.” Gabriel’s voice said no, but there was nothing Sterling could do tohelphim.
They stood, Gabriel scrambling to his feet and slinking toward Dr. Harris’ office door like a dog who knew he’d done wrong while Sterling followed him at a respectful distance. They stepped into the hall, and when the door closed behind them, Gabriel did something that shocked Sterling—he methisgaze.
