I wasn’t exactly thrilled about him coming over, but I’m glad he showed up anyway. I got the chance to spend time with him and I can already see how great of a dad he’s going to be. From how gentle he was with me, how he cooked me dinner, took care of things I couldn’t do, and on top of it, made me laugh.
While we’re still navigating this odd friendship, I think last night cemented what being a team would look like for us.
I roll out of bed, noticing I feel so much better than I did yesterday. I’m still a bit tired, but that’s typical for me nowadays.
I make my way to the living room, wondering if he spent the night. He didn’t say anything about spending the night anyways, but to my surprise, I find myself not caring if hedidstay over.
A trickle of disappointment runs through my body when I find the living room empty. I shouldn’t care because we’re just friends. This is what I wanted, so I force myself to brush off the feelings.
The smell of something sweet catches my attention, making my stomach growl as I head into the kitchen to find out where it’s coming from, when my eyes snag on a piece of paper on my island counter. I reach for it and realize it’s a note from Quentin.
Sorry I had to run out early. Team meeting, but text me to let me know how you’re feeling please.
P.S. check the fridge for your breakfast.
Quentin
The earlier disappointment of waking up to an empty home is swiftly replaced by the fact that he stayed the night to watch over me. I’d become so used to caring for myself and being alone that I forgot how good it feels to know someone was here forme. Warmth bubbles in my chest at the fact, but my growling stomach thankfully snaps me out of it.
I head over to the fridge, curious to see what he left behind.
“Oh my fucking God,” I say slowly out loud when I find the platter of cinnamon rolls inside. Pulling the tray out, I find another note stuck to the plastic wrap covering it.
Heat it up for 5 minutes in the oven and they should be good as new. The homemade icing is in the blue container.
Quentin
I can’t believe this man. Not only did he take care of quite literally everything, he remembered a single comment I made last night and ran with it.
Blueberry seems just as excited as I am, my stomach growling intensely as I stare in shock at the homemade cinnamon rolls.
Ten minutes later, I’m sitting at the island, watching as the icing melts into the warm roll. It looks so fucking good that my mouth waters.
I tear off a chunk and shove it into my mouth and instantly hum in approval because wow, that is the best dessert I’ve ever tasted.
I devour it, and a second because Iameating for two.
Once I’ve cleaned up, I grab my phone from where I left it last night on the coffee table and send Quentin a text.
Me
Those are fucking amazing. Best sweet treat I’ve ever had. Blueberry demanded I have a second.
Quentin
So the results are in, I see.
Quentin
I’ll make anything you and Blueberry are craving, you just have to ask.
Me
You might regret that offer.
Pocketing my phone, I head to Blueberry’s room, wanting to see the progress he made on the crib. When I first got the crib, I tried so hard to build it myself. I spent days sitting on the floor with my tools, ready to make progress that never came. So I’m not expecting it to be finished in just one night.
I stop in my tracks when I see the white crib put together, standing in the middle of the room. Joy blooms inside my chest and tears prick the back of my eyes. Seeing the crib cements the fact thatI’m having a baby. A rush of excitement and nerves flows through me, but I remind myself that I can do this.
