“You listen. Good.”
She glances over her shoulder and shoots me a glare. “You know that already. That’s what put a baby inside of me.” She flops her head back down.
I sputter a laugh under my breath.
It’s true. She obeys well. But I have a feeling that I’ll be following her cues more in the coming months.
Because she has cast a spell over me, my eyes begin to close, because apparently, I’m getting more comfortable than I planned for today.
That’s good because I forgot that we have team holiday photos tomorrow, and I fucking hate ugly Christmas sweaters.
And if sweaters are my biggest worry right now, then it means everything else is promising.
CHAPTER 8
GRACIE
I’m howling. Or at least it feels like it.
Lainey will think that I’ve lost my mind. Luckily, she went to the bathroom as I curl over my phone while resting my arms on her kitchen counter. I’m surprised that I found a spot between all of the baking ingredients.
But this is hilarious. Asher sent me a photo of him in a Grinch sweater.
Asher
Tell me that your design skills could come up with a better sweater?
It’s an ugly-sweater shoot. I will never lower my standards to ugly sweaters. But the sweater really brings out your eyes.
I’m not sure who in the team marketing department convinced him to do this, but he looks to be in misery.
We’ve been texting quite a bit the last week. I wanted to go to the home game the other day, but I was just too beat. Sleep and toast were calling me. Later in the week, I have a doctor’s appointment, but there is no way that Asher will beable to make it. The game schedule has them down in North Carolina.
Straightening my posture, I slip my phone back into my purse just as Lainey returns to the kitchen.
“Someone is giddy. Who is sending you texts?” She bumps my arm in passing on her way to the mixing bowls.
“No one special. My brother just sent me this funny photo,” I lie.
Why? Because even my best friend has no clue what is happening in my life. While I try to come to grips with my situation, I just want to do it with Asher. It’s crazy, considering we don’t know one another that well. But I think it’s because we need to find our way together, as it’s our big change, and for me, the best way is to be in my own little world.
Lainey doesn’t seem to blink at my explanation, instead clapping her hands together with excitement as she eyes the bag of flour. “Annual baking night commences.”
Circling around the counter, I smile because I do love this tradition. We always bake everything we can possibly think of, then divide them into tins to give to people. She is a master at cookies, whereas I stick to chocolate bars and things with mint. I’m kind of addicted to using candy canes for decoration.
“I can’t wait to cut out inappropriate shapes for your sugar cookies.” I love doing that to her. She never knows which tin I hide it in. I’m always a little vulgar even for me, and this year it’s a dick shape, because I have every plan to hide it in the tin for her neighbor that she thinks is an insufferable human being.
“I hate that tradition,” she scolds me and points her wooden spoon in my direction.
I smile brightly at her. “You love me.”
“Yeah, I do. Now let’s do this.”
Our baking is underway, and her son has already flown through the kitchen a few times in the last hour, stealing treats in the process. This time Enzo sticks around and dips his finger into the bowl of cookie dough while Lainey doesn’t see.
Such a smart kid. Cookie dough is a blessing from the skies. I grin at him and join him by taking a nearby tablespoon and scoop into the bowl.
“Hey!” She playfully swats her son. “There is raw egg in that.”
