Page 72 of Pretty Drunk

Thankfully, I had renter’s insurance. Don’t tell my mom, but her urging me to take out a policy was the best decision I made. I’m in the process of finalizing my payout with them, but it appears I’ll have enough to replace most of my lost belongings. I’ve been slow to make new purchases, mostly because my priorities have shifted. After the fire, I grabbed some basic necessities, but the day is coming quickly when I’ll be needing maternity clothes, so instead of replacing dozens of items I won’t be able to wear for a while, I’ll pick up the things as I need them.

Logan and I haven’t talked too much more about what will happen when the baby arrives. I’m going to need a place by then, and with winter knocking on the door, I’m not sure when the right time is to move. But we’re both going to need to get back to our normal lives soon, preparing for the arrival of our baby at our respective houses.

First though, I need to find my own place, and I’m dreading it more than I ever thought possible.

I assumed living with Logan would be stifling, but it has been anything but. We actually live together quite well. Better than I anticipated. He’s incredibly attentive and caring, making sure I have everything I need, from three meals a day to plenty of my favorite snacks. He builds fires and keeps the cabin the perfect temperature. He doesn’t seem to care that I keep stealing his clothes either, but they’re just better than my own. I sleep more soundly, more comfortably when I’m in his joggers and oversized T-shirts. I may never be able to go back to pajamas.

Do you think he’d miss a few pairs of sweats and some shirts when I move to my own place?

However well it’s going here, there’s also one big problem. One he’s not aware of.

I’m horny as hell.

I blame the pregnancy but him a little too. He walks around in well-worn jeans and a long-sleeved Johnson Hardware T-shirt, sometimes with a hoodie over the top of it, and at night, it’s always joggers. When I’m really lucky, he’s shirtless—usually after his shower and when he’s getting ready for bed. Those are the nights I have to take care of business myself, if you know what I mean. With images of a shirtless Logan, his sweats hanging dangerously low on his hips and the outline of his magnificent cock bulging through the material, I have to double-click my own mouse.

Usually twice.

Even then, I wake in the morning with the same achy feeling washing over me I dealt with the day before. It’s a nonstop cycle, one I can’t seem to…quench.

It’s a chilly Sunday morning; the day before my sixteen-week checkup. The late October sky is cloudy, the winds howling outside the protective walls of the cabin. The small bathroom is filled with steam and the scent of Logan’s bodywash. I’ve been using it ever since we started staying here, because I’m a psycho like that and can’t get enough of the smell. It’s like a pregnancy craving, except worse, because I can’t get close enough to the scent, and considering it’s on my own skin, that’s saying something. But my oversensitive lady bits know it’s not the same as smelling it from his skin as it is my own.

I’m hopeless.

And desperate.

I slip my bra and panties on before reaching for my brush. Just as I start to run it through my hair, I take in my appearance in the mirror.

That’s when I see it.

“Holy shit,” I mutter, my eyes dropping down to my stomach. There is the slightest bump protruding from my body, one that I swear wasn’t there yesterday. It’s like it just…popped out. “Oh my God, Logan!” I holler, reaching for the doorknob and taking off out of the bathroom. “Logan!”

He comes flying around the corner from the kitchen, worry and fear written all over his handsome face. “What? What’s wrong?” he asks when he reaches me.

“Look,” I whisper, placing my hands on the swell of my baby.

“Holy shit,” he mutters. A smile instantly spreads across his lips as he gazes down at my stomach. “May I?”

I nod, my throat thick and dry with emotion.

He seems somewhat hesitant, then places both of his warm hands on my skin. He strokes my belly with his fingers as a chuckle slides from his lips. “My baby.”

I blink rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay, but there’s something so special about this moment. “Can you believe it? It’s like it just popped out overnight.”

He glances up at me, but keeps his hands on my belly. “Some of the sites I read said those exact words. It's like it just…pops.”

We stand there, both smiling at each other. This is an incredible moment, and I’m so glad he was here to share it. “I still can’t believe you read all those online pregnancy sites.”

He shrugs, refusing to get embarrassed. “I want to know what’s going on with you and the baby every step of the way.”

All I can do is grin at his thoughtfulness.

Something dark passes through his eyes as the hum of awareness races through my veins. It’s as if we both realize at the same moment I’m standing here, wearing only my bra and panties. My nipples harden as the familiar ache of need crashes into my entire body like a tornado. It’s reckless and unrestrained, just like a force of nature hell-bent on destroying everything in its path.

He clears his throat before his eyes slowly drop to my near-naked body. I can feel my panties growing damp, and maybe in another time, it would be enough to embarrass me. But not now. Not today. All it does is cause my desire to rage on.

“Hallie.” That one word sounds like a plea.

My body is humming, my brain not fully processing what’s about to happen. I step forward, pressing my breasts to his chest as my hand glides around to his back. “Yes?”

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