He barely smiles back at me. “Maybe you should go to the doctor and get checked out.”
I shake my head gently. “I’m not going to be one of those paranoid people who run to the hospital for every little thing. I was at the doctor’s office just last week. Everything’s fine. Even she said so.” I lean toward him and kiss him softly on the lips and smile a little more, hoping to ease his mind.
He smiles back and moves the blanket from around my body so he can curl up next to me. I lift up and lie on my other side so that my back is facing him, and he presses his warm body against mine, wrapping his arm around me from behind. He’s so warm that I melt into him, knowing it’ll only be minutes before I’m fast asleep. I feel his breath on my neck as he kisses me there. I close my eyes and take him in, his natural scent that I always crave, the hardness of his arms and legs, the heat coming from his skin. I honestly doubt I’ll ever be able to fall asleep without him next to me again.
“If it gets worse,” he says in a quiet voice behind me, “you better tell me. I don’t want you to also be one of those stubborn people who doesn’t get checked out when they know something could be wrong.”
I turn my head slightly in his direction, looking faintly amused.
“Oh, you mean like someone I know who refused to see a doctor for eight months because he was so sure his brain tumor was inoperable?”
He sighs and I feel the heat from his breath on my shoulder. My intention was to get a laugh out of him, but apparently he doesn’t find it funny.
“Just promise me,” he says and squeezes me gently with his arm. “Any more pain or anything weird, you’ll tell me and we’ll go to the hospital.”
I give in, not because I want to appease him but because he’s right. I’ve never been pregnant before, so I know as much about what is normal and what isn’t as any other first-time mom-to-be.
7
It’s Sunday afternoon, and I think all I needed yesterday was a good sleep. I feel a little better today, and the back pain is gone. I get dressed and go ahead and pack my things so everything will be ready when Andrew and I leave later tonight to catch our plane back to Texas. But before we head back, I have a girl’s day out to spend with Natalie, and I’m looking forward to it.
“Are you sure you don’t mind hanging out with Blake?” I ask as Andrew slips a navy T-shirt down over his abs. He’s standing in front of the mirror fixing his hair, if you can call running his fingers through it once fixing it. He never has cared much what it looks like as long as it’s not sticking up in places it shouldn’t be.
He turns around to face me. “I don’t mind. Blake’s a pretty cool guy. We’re going to head over to some pool hall and shoot a few games for a while.” He wraps his arms around my waist. “Don’t worry about me. Just have a good time with Natalie.”
I laugh lightly. “Y’know, if she finds out about that picture you used for her on your phone, she’s going to kill you.”
Andrew’s grin deepens. “You’re very brave, Camryn Bennett.” He cups my shoulders within his hands and shakes his head at me dramatically. “I would die under the weight of that girl’s personality if I had to spend more than an hour in the same room with her. Either that or I’d jab my eardrums with a pencil, whichever came first.”
I choke out a laugh and press my hands hard against his chest. “You’re so mean!”
“Why yes, yes, I am,” he says, grinning hugely.
He leans in and presses his lips against my forehead. I do one better and gently grab the front of his shirt and pull him toward me, locking lips with his.
“It’s not too late to get it on in here, just so you know.” His hooded green eyes scan my face and then my lips before he kisses me again, tugging my bottom lip with his teeth.
“Oh hell yeah it is,” I hear Natalie say from the door of my room.
The kiss breaks and we both turn around at the same time to see her standing there with her arms crossed and wearing a lopsided smirk. Her long, dark hair rests over both shoulders. First thing I do is wonder just how much she overheard.
Andrew covertly rolls his eyes at the intrusion. Poor guy. The things he does for me.
Natalie saunters into the room and plops down on the end of my bed. Obviously she didn’t hear anything incriminating or else we’d know it by now. She slaps her hands together sharply and says, “Chop! Chop! We’re going to get pedicures and manicures and all kinds of cures today.”
By the look on Andrew’s face, I know he wants so damn bad to call her on that foot-in-her-mouth moment. I glare at him sharply to warn him not to say a word and he just smiles, zipped lips and all.
“Feelin’ any better today?” Natalie asks.
I slip my feet down into my Rocket Dog loafers—or as Andrew calls them, the ugliest shoes he’s ever seen—and then start brushing out my hair.