She winces.“I need to pee so badly I’m not sure I’m going to make it to the bathroom.”
“Right.Of course.”I quickly pull the covers back, tuck one hand under her knees, and settle the other between her shoulder blades.“Hold on.”
She gasps as I rush into the bathroom.
“Can you stand?”I ask, lowering her to her feet.
“I think so.”She’s trembling as she holds on to me.“Shit…” she mutters.A moment later, she jerks her gaze up, her face red.“Sorry.”
I chuckle.“For what?Cussing?Honey, you’ve earned the right to shout bad words.I’m certain a lot more of them will come out of your mouth when you’re in labor.You should probably practice doing so.Can you stand on your own?Or do you want me to help you?”
“I can do it.I think.”
I slowly back up, keeping an eye on her.“I’ll be right outside.”
After rushing the rest of the way out of the bathroom, I pull the door almost closed and wait impatiently with my hands on my hips.I’m worried she might fall.She’s still weak and groggy.Plus, she’s definitely off balance.
Eventually, the door opens, and she stands there looking so sleepy and perfect.Her hair is a tousled mess from lying on it while it was damp.It’s gorgeous just the way it is.
My shirt is big on her, even with her huge belly.Her breasts are spectacular, all full.The nipples are pressing against the front of the shirt.
And I should not be paying attention to her tits.
I lick my lips.“Hungry?”
“Starving.”She brushes her hair back.“Do you, by chance, have anything I could use to put my stupid hair up?A rubber band or some kind of tie?”
I grin.“Yes.Your sister brought a few things.I stuck them in a drawer in the bathroom.”I take her hand and lead her toward the sink, where I pull out the vanity chair.“Sit.May I brush it out for you?”
She lowers awkwardly to the seat, staring at me with narrowed eyes in the mirror’s reflection.“You don’t mind?It’s a pain in the butt.”
“I love your hair.It’s the prettiest color I’ve ever seen.”I grab my brush and start at the bottom.It’s going to take a few minutes.It’s very long.
“I hate it.If you have any scissors, please cut it off.”
I hesitate.“Are you serious?”
She rolls her eyes.“Have you ever had to deal with anything like this in your life?No.I mean, I’m assuming you didn’t grow out four feet of hair and then cut it off since I last saw you.”
I chuckle.“Nope.I have not.”
“Well, it’s a pain.It’s been ten times more annoying in the last few months since I’ve been too exhausted to hold my arms up long enough to do anything with it.It’s a chore just to braid it.”
“If you’re not happy with it, why haven’t you cut it off?”
She stares at me in the mirror again.“You’re serious, aren’t you?”
I frown.“Yes.I’m confused.”
“My entire life, I’ve been told I may not cut my hair.First, my father, then Presley.They both forbade it.I’m in your home one day, and you act like…” She stops talking.
I lift a brow.“Like you should make your own decisions and not listen to what anyone else thinks?”
She sighs.“Yes.”
“Hannah, I’ll be honest with you.You’re a breath of fresh air.I’m tripping over myself, hoping I might be able to impress you.I don’t mean to put any pressure on you, of course.You’re dealing with a hell of a lot right now.But I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I’m hoping somewhere along the line you decide to give me a chance to be the sort of man you deserve in life.”
I can’t believe I’m saying all of this.I didn’t intend to.It just sort of happened.
