She nods, and the edges of her smile climb higher. “I might be pregnant.” Her eyes shine with emotion. “Our baby might be getting settled inside of me right now.”
Possessiveness sweeps through me, catching me off guard in its intensity. Fuck, I forgot how her pregnancy affected me last time. Knowing that this woman could be growing our child robs me of my ability to breathe normally. Every instinct I have shouts at me to shut her away in a cozy room and refuse to let her leave.
She must stay safe. She must staymine.
Closing my eyes, I remind myself she isn’t mine. Not really. These urges are just the caveman part of my brain wanting me to ensure my lineage continues, or some bullshit like that.
Ashlin’s dark eyes study me carefully. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “I’m fine.”
Dr. Slater clears her throat. “I’ve just got a few pointers before you go.” She starts talking, and by the time we leave, my head is ready to explode. Who knew there was so much to know about getting pregnant? Last time we just had sex a few times and voila. Then, during the pregnancy, Ashlin took care of most things. I went with her to the scans and medical checks, but I didn’t delve into the details. She did that all by herself. I was busy getting my gym up and running, recruiting fighters, and trying to carve out a space for myself on the coaching scene, so I was relieved to let her handle it.
I should have done more.
While I drive her home, I vow I’ll be better this time. Now that the appointment is over, my nerves should have eased, but they’ve only morphed into something else because for the first time, I get to see where she lives. She’s been secretive about it. Not downright evasive, but sketchy enough that I want to know what she’s hiding and why. When we arrive outside, the reason for her behavior does not become any more obvious. Her house looks nice enough. Cream-walled, with a brown tile roof, in a decent neighborhood. It’s cute, but classy. Very her.
“Nice place.”
“It’s home.” She rubs her lips together. A nervous tick. “You can just leave me out here. You don’t need to walk me in.”
“Yeah, I do.” It’s time to address the elephant in the room. “What is it you don’t want me to see?”
“Nothing.” She climbs from the car and waves a hand at me. “Come in, then. You may as well.” Her tone is flat.
“What’s wrong, Ash?”
“It’s just…” She sniffles and turns to face me, swiping at her eyes. “Sorry. Stupid hormones. I told you I’ve been doing some renovations. I’m a little sensitive about it because I’ve never been what you’d call handy, and I’m afraid it won’t be what you’re expecting.” Her lips rub together again, but she raises her chin as if daring me to say the wrong thing.
“You’re worried I’ll criticize what you’ve done?”
“Maybe.” She gives a tiny shrug of her shoulders. “I’m proud of myself, but you can see where I was learning as I worked on the bathroom and kitchen. It’s not up to a professional standard.”
“Sweetheart.” I rest a hand on her shoulder. “The fact you renovated your bathroom and kitchen all on your own impresses the hell out of me. Why don’t you give me the grand tour? I’m dying to see what a home looks like when you get to make all the design and decor choices.”
She still seems dubious. “Well, okay then.”
We walk to the door and she slots a key into the lock, her hand trembling. I can’t say I understand exactly why this is such a big deal to her, but it is, and I respect that. The interior of the hall is dusty, and the wallpaper is faded floral and has been stripped away in places. There’s no carpet. By the looks of it, she’s ripped up whatever was there. She glances at me over her shoulder, expression cautious. I gesture for her to lead the way. She takes me into the living area.
“I finished this room most recently. When I first started, I focused on the bathroom, kitchen, and main bedroom because I figured those were the most important rooms to have done. I’ve, uh, just started on the spare bedroom. I’m planning to turn it into a nursery.”
I force myself to breathe easier. I don’t want to freak her out over how excited I am to see the nursery. The room where she’ll raise our baby. Instead, I study the interior of the living room. It’s pretty. Walls with a creamy yellow tint that gives the impression of warmth. A comfortable bean bag in the corner. Large windows that face the small back yard. On the windowsill there’s a framed photo, and I cross to it. Smiling back at me are the faces of three women: Ashlin, and the two I know from online research are Paige Donovan and Jessica Leighton. Paige is a cute brunette, whereas Jessica is an icy blonde. Looking at the photo, you’d think Jessica was the one who came from money because of the way she holds herself aloof as Ashlin and Paige wrap her in an embrace from each side. However, it’s Paige’s family who are actually wealthy.
“You guys seem close,” I say, as if I didn’t dig deep into each of her friends’ social media profiles for any hint they might mean her harm or be a negative influence.
“We are.” She smiles softly at the picture. “I wouldn’t be where I am today without them.”
Is that a boxing glove stuck in my throat? Sure as hell feels like it.
While I’m glad she had friends who cared for her when I wasn’t able to, I can’t help resenting them for occupying a place in her heart that I no longer have access to.
“I’ll show you the kitchen.” She takes my hand and tugs. I follow her silently. “I wanted plenty of counter space,” she tells me, waving her free hand at the length of counter that wraps around one wall. The kitchen is long and narrow, with cupboards on one side and the counter on the other. Like the living room, the walls are cream, but the cupboards are a dark blue. I wish I could pick her up, place her on the counter and make love to her until she screams. When we lived together, we christened every room in the house, and here, we could start over. Do it again.
“Seth?” she asks. “You’re awfully quiet.”
“Just taking it in.” I study the line where the painted wall meets the tiles behind the counter, noting a couple of spots where the tiles don’t quite line up. It’s nearly impossible to see unless you’re looking for it, but I have no doubt these are the imperfections she’s so concerned about. “I can’t believe you did all of this. It’s incredible.”
“Thanks.” She ducks her head, suddenly shy. “I didn’t do it alone. My friends helped.”
