Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
I was about to agree with her, when it struck me our child would not grow up the same way.
That twinge in my side returned, and I frowned. “Let me up for a second,” I told her. “I need to stretch.”
She sat up and I leaned over, stretching one arm over my head, hoping the pain would alleviate.
“You okay?” she asked.
“I’m fine. I must have hurt myself at the gym this morning.” The pain eased up slightly, and I switched off the lamp. When I leaned back again, she returned to my side, and I put my arm around her, listening as her breathing slowed.
“Do you think we’re going to fuck up our kid?” I blurted.
“What? No.” She sat up. “Why would you say that?”
“Because we’re not going to raise it together.”
“Yes, we are.”
“You know what I mean—in one house.”
“Oh.” She was silent a few seconds. “No, I don’t think we’re going to fuck up our kid. Plenty of children grow up in two different households. The important thing is that they know they’re loved.”
What she said sounded good, but something wasn’t sitting right with me tonight.
“Are you—are you changing your mind about having a baby?” she asked nervously.
“No.” I rubbed my face with both hands. “No, I’m still good with the plan. Sorry, I think I’m just worried about Beckett, and it’s fucking with me.”
“That’s okay. I understand.” She lay down on her side of the bed and pulled the covers up to her shoulders, facing away from me.
“Hey. What are you doing over there?”
“I don’t know. I’m giving you some space.”
“Well, I don’t want it. Come here.”
She rolled over toward me, and I gathered her into my arms. “I just want you to know, and I mean this with one hundred percent sincerity, I’m not sick of you yet.”
Her laughter made the ache in my side disappear. “I’m not sick of you yet either.”
“Okay. Good.” I kissed her once more and went to sleep.
Twelve
Bianca
Cheyenne hosted book club on Thursday night, and after everyone left but Blair and me, the three of us sat in her living room talking.
“I’m dying to catch up,” Cheyenne said, pouring herself some more wine and settling into the L of a cream-colored sectional sofa I’d helped her and Cole choose. “How are things going?”
“Good,” I said.
“I noticed you’re not drinking wine,” said Blair, who sat on the corner opposite from me, a suspicious smile on her face.
I took a sip of my tea. “Nope.”
“Does that mean you’re already pregnant?” Cheyenne’s eyes popped.
“No,” I said, laughing. “Just trying to be.”
Blair sat up ramrod straight. “Wait a minute. You told me before that the first insemination wouldn’t be until late April. It’s only mid-March.”
“About that.” I took another sip of tea. “We, um, decided to try it the old-fashioned way.”
Both my friends stared at me.
“Are you serious?” Cheyenne asked.
“Yes.”
“I knew it!” Blair thumped her hand on the couch. “I said to Griffin when we left your house on Saturday that you guys would not be able to stick to that ridiculous no-sex rule.”
“You were right,” I confessed. “We couldn’t.”
“I’m so confused,” Cheyenne said, placing a palm on her forehead. “Are you guys actually a couple now? Or is everything still fake?”
“I think we’re something in between,” I said. “Not a couple, but not entirely fake either. More like friends with benefits.”
She continued trying to understand. “But you’re still planning to break up eventually?”
“Yes. After the baby is born, if I get pregnant. Sooner if I don’t.”
“Like how soon?”
“We said we’d give it three months.” My stomach felt a little funny when I said it out loud. Three months didn’t seem nearly as long as it had when we first signed the contract.
“Wow.” Cheyenne blinked. “And you’ll be able to just walk away?”
“Sure,” I said with confidence I didn’t fully feel. “That part of the plan hasn’t changed. From the very beginning, we agreed on an expiration date. We just adjusted things to have a little more fun in the meantime.”
“But what if you really like each other by then?” Cheyenne pressed. “Don’t you think it could work?”
“No way,” I insisted, before that voice in my head saying well, maybe . . . could make itself be heard. “The reason I chose Enzo is because I knew there would be no possible way I’d ever fall for him. In fact, he made me put that in the contract.”
“He did?” Cheyenne rolled her eyes. “What an asshole.”
“I know.” I laughed, shaking my head. “And at the time, it seemed ludicrous that he’d even think it. But he claims he’s been in this situation before, where someone says she’s okay with casual fun but then she falls in love with him.”
“But you’re not that girl,” Blair said. “This is not that situation.”
“No, it’s not. And it never will be.” I sat up a little taller. “Look, I appreciate his honesty. I spent years in a relationship letting myself be strung along with empty promises. At least Enzo is being up front about it. He’s never going to love me. I’m okay with that.”