Page 60 of Falling in Love with Two

“No, I’m okay.”

He stands up and heads toward the kitchen. “What’d you have for dinner?”

“Nothing. I haven’t eaten anything all day.”

He stops and backs up toward me. Turning around, he asks, “You haven’t eaten anything today?”

I shake my head. “My stomach has been in knots.”

He comes over and kneels in front of me. “While I can appreciate that, you need to eat. The baby needs you to eat.”

While food doesn’t sound great, I know Dylan is right. Not eating for close to twenty-four hours probably isn’t the smartest move.

“Okay, fine. I could eat.”

With another gorgeous smile, he stands and walks to the kitchen once again. Opening a drawer, he pulls out a stack of take-out menus.

He hands them to me and says, “Pick your poison.”

Looking through them, I settle on a Chinese restaurant. It still isn’t making my mouth water, but it’s the best option of the bunch.

“What do you want?” He asks when I tell him my decision.

“Just some orange chicken.”

Pulling out his phone, he calls to place the order. Meanwhile, I look around the living room, and I notice how extremely clean everything is. This will, by far, be the neatest place I’ve lived. Amy’s wasn’t messy, but it was small and cluttered.

I haven’t been somewhere this clean since I was still living at home—although that place seemed more like a prison than a home. I left when I was seventeen and never went back. Hopefully, living here won’t be anything similar to that awful experience.

When Dylan joins me back on the couch, he asks, “What are you so deep in thought about?”

“Besides the existential dread of having a baby?” I give him a small smile. “Just admiring how very clean your place is.”

“To be fair, I haven’t lived here very long. Give it time. I’m sure I’ll eventually mess it up.”

“I doubt it. Boy Scouts are notoriously neat I hear.”

He rolls his eyes but still grins. “Yeah, yeah.” Holding out his hand for mine, he adds, “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

I’m about to tell him I’ve seen it before, but I realize the only parts I’ve seen are his bedroom and one of the bathrooms. I take his hand and let him pull me to my feet.

He leads me down the hall. His room is on the left, and there are two doors on the right. The first one he opens doesn’t have anything except for a few boxes.

“We could use this as a nursery,” he says.

I look around trying to picture it with a crib and such. I can’t believe that I went from partying to deciding what a nursery should look like.

Next, he walks to the door toward the end of the hall. As we walk through, I see it’s a guest room, complete with a large, plush bed. That will be a nice change of pace from crashing out on a couch every single night.

He says, “Just let me know if you need anything for the room, and I can grab it.”

Why is he always so nice?

“I should be good,” I tell him. “I don’t need much.”

Under normal circumstances, I would be fine with just sharing a room with the guy I’m sleeping with anyway. When I’ve moved in with boyfriends in the past, we always shared a bed.

This time feels remarkably different.

---