“Just what every girl wants to be called. Likable.”
“If I told you what I really think of you, you’d probably knee me in the nuts, and this whole experiment of living together would end in disaster.”
I want so badly to ask what he thinks of me. Does he lie in bed and think about how I’m only a room away too? Does he think about the things we could be doing to each other? When he sees I’m home, does his stomach feel as though it’s full of helium and might float away like mine does?
They’re all bad signs, but signs that aren’t stopping me from continuing what we’re doing.
When we reach the dairy section, I get distracted in front of the ice cream. So many choices, and I can’t decide which one.
Foster comes over and makes a hmm sound. “Finally a craving?”
I shake my head. “Maybe it’s a myth, like the five-month one.”
“Five-month myth?” His forehead wrinkles.
“Oh, so you know every single vitamin I need, but not what most women experience around five months?”
“I haven’t gone further than how far along you are. But now I’m curious.” He pulls out his phone, but I place my hand over it.
I lean in close to him. “It’s that a pregnant woman’s sex drive gets more intense. Supposedly. But I’m gonna be honest, my nipples are so sensitive I’m not sure I could handle anyone’s hands on them right now.”
Foster groans then glances around. “Fuck, Callie, are you trying to get me arrested?”
“Arrested?” I frown.
“Having a hard-on in public. Jesus. I really hope I have a lot of away games during your fifth month. No offense.”
I laugh because he looks so scared. “Seriously, I can handle it.”
“You hope. But I guess if I have to take one for the team, you can jump into my bed.”
I shake my head, then notice that he’s added my yogurt to the cart. I give him a stern look.
He shrugs. “I saw you only had one left this morning.”
My hand covers my heart. “Foster, you woo me.”
“You’d be the first to be wooed.”
My cheeks heat, and I open the freezer, grab the pistachio ice cream, and add it to the cart.
We finish our shopping while I’m trying to wrap my head around Foster and this flirting that seems to come so naturally for us, as well as how much I really like him and how I know he’ll be a good dad.
I see the scared kid again, but this time his brother is chasing him. The mom is whisper-screaming, following them with her cart, but one of them bumps me. All I see is the display of pies on a table that I’m about to fall into before two hands grab my waist.
I fall back and Foster catches me. We’re in a pose as if he just dipped me. For a moment, I lose myself in his eyes. God, he’s gorgeous.
“I got you.” His breath is warm and minty, and I want to wrap my hand around the back of his neck and pull him down to meet my lips.
“Thanks.” My voice is more breathless than it should be.
“Of course. I’d hate for you to fall stomach first.”
I stiffen.
Right. Of course. The baby.
I straighten up then pull away. The mom apologizes profusely then scolds her boys, who look a little scared of her now.
