“All right, let’s have a listen for the baby’s heartbeat,” he said.
My hand instinctively went to my belly. “Really?”
“Really. Just lie back and slide your shirt up a bit.”
Bennett came to stand next to me, and I looked up at his face as the doctor rubbed my belly with a Doppler wand. He was so handsome, his expression earnest and hopeful.
A steady swooshing sound made me turn to Dr. Lansing.
“Is that it?” I whispered.
“Yes. And it sounds good.”
Warm happiness flooded me. It hadn’t felt as real as it did in this moment, hearing the sound of my growing baby’s heart. When I turned to Bennett, his eyes were glistening with a layer of unshed tears.
I reached for his hand and took it. “Bennett, I’m sorry about the other day.”
He squeezed my hand and bent down so our faces were close. “Thanks for the non-apology.” When he grinned, my heart fluttered and I couldn’t help smiling back.
“Okay. Take two,” I said. “I’m sorry for being bitchy the other day. I was having a really bad day, but I was wrong to take it out on you.”
“It’s okay. I’m sorry about the way I acted at dinner that night.”
“That’s our baby,” I said, still listening to the rhythmic pounding.
He cupped my cheek with his free hand. “That’s our baby,” he said softly.
“I’m excited.”
“Me too.”
The doctor withdrew the wand, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. All I could see right now was Bennett, his gaze intense as his thumb stroked over my cheekbone.
“Can I touch?” he asked, nearly whispering.
“Yes.”
He slid his large palm from my cheek and put it on my belly, his expression lighting up with happiness. I felt an immediate, deep connection with him. He had the same innate love for this baby as I did. And no one else in the world would ever feel this connection to a child who wasn’t even fully formed yet.
“Let’s have dinner,” I said.
His eyes met mine and he smiled. I kept my hold on his hand, not wanting to let go and lose this feeling.
“Smells better than a virgin’s cooter in here,” James said, inhaling dramatically.
“Eww. I thought you had to leave,” I said, stirring the chicken fajita mix I’d made.
“I’m supposed to meet my date at six, but I want to be fashionably late.”
“That’s not fashionable. It’s rude.”
“Chicks dig assholes, Charlotte.” James moved his hand toward the skillet on the stove and I smacked it away.
“You should get going,” I said, wishing he’d take a hint.
I’d decided to make amends with Bennett not just by having dinner with him, but by cooking it. And nothing would kill a good evening faster than my roommate.
There was a knock at the door, and I groaned inwardly as James went to answer it. I glanced around the corner as he opened the door for Bennett.
“Wassup, Baby Daddy?” He grinned and put out his fist for a bump. “You plannin’ to tap dat ass tonight?”
“Be respectful of Charlotte or we’re gonna have a problem,” Bennett said with a growl. “And you can call me Bennett.”
James dropped his fist. “Whatevs, bro.”
“Get the fuck out of here.”
James turned to me with a dirty look before dropping his head and walking out the door.
“That guy’s a fuckin’ idiot,” Bennett said. “I don’t know how you can stand living with him.”
“I wear headphones a lot.”
He set the bag he was carrying on the kitchen counter and reached inside.
“Brought you something,” he said, taking out a round cake from a bakery. It was decorated with white frosting and edged half in pink and half in blue. A “2” was also half pink and half blue.
“Looks good,” I said, smiling up at him.
“Thought we’d celebrate your second trimester.”
He smelled really good—that combination of leather and light cologne I remembered from our one night together. And as always, he looked good, the definition of his muscles showing through the long-sleeved T-shirt he wore. It was making me envision other ways we could celebrate. Ways that didn’t involve cake. Unless . . .
I could lick that frosting off your chest, I wanted to say. Maybe put some on my inner thighs for you?
I’d noticed some changes with the end of the first trimester of my pregnancy. The sickness had vanished, but now I was in a constant state of horniness. I’d had to resort to self-love, which creeped me out with James in the next room. I was always completely silent, and I always fantasized about Bennett.
“You okay?” he asked.
My cheeks warmed and I forced myself to look away from him.
“Yeah, I’m good. Just fantasizing about that cake.”
“Well, let’s grub and then we can do more than fantasize. Smells like you cooked something good.”
Smelled like leather and cologne to me. I leaned a little closer and breathed him in.
“You smelling me?” he asked, puzzled.
“Yeah, it’s . . . I’m just trying to place that cologne.”
“It’s Dolce and Gabbana The One. Like it?”