Page 57 of Falling in Love with Two

She points her finger at me. “Now, you’re talking like a dad. Dyl, you have to sit down. You’re making me nervous.”

I sit on the couch next to her. “I’m scared, Lizzie.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. I’m in a committed relationship with a great guy, and I’m still scared.”

“Really?”

“Dylan, soon, I have to push a watermelon-sized person out of my lady hole. Yes, I’m terrified. And I’m scared that I’ll fuck up the kid after she gets here.”

“Nah, you guys will be great.”

She smiles. “Back at you.”

“What do you think I should do?”

“I think you need to have a serious talk with the woman. Try to come up with an arrangement that keeps you involved and isn’t too hard on the kid. Turn on that Dylan Lawson charm.”

“And what if that doesn’t work?”

“Then, you can get a little more aggressive with things. But first, you need to get all the facts.”

I tap my finger on my chin. “You know, she gave me an out if I wanted it. She said she was prepared to do it all on her own.”

“I know you, Dylan. And I know you’d never let that happen. You’ll do whatever you need to.”

Looking at her, I ask, “Is it worth it?”

She grabs my hand and sets it on her stomach, and I can feel my niece kicking away. “Dylan, I’m miserable all the time. Every inch of me is a mess. But yes. It’s completely worth it.”

eighteen

Am I really Considering This?

Leah

Ipull into Dylan’s driveway, dreading the talk we are about to have. What are the chances that I would run into him at the doctor?

My plan was to use the time I was tattooing to figure out what I was going to say when I saw him. But my client was super chatty and kept my mind occupied.

So, I’m still clueless.

After a couple of deep breaths, I step out of my car and head up the path. The front door swings open, and Dylan stands there smiling. I have to admit that he looks good. His t-shirt and jeans fit him just right, and it’s even better knowing what’s underneath.

Stop it, Leah. That’s what got you into this mess in the first place.

When I’m inside, he asks, “Do you want something to drink?”

“Sure. You got whiskey?” I joke. “Just some water is fine.”

He grabs a bottle out of the refrigerator, and we make our way to the living room. Each of us takes a seat on either side of the couch.

I have no idea where to start. Thankfully, Dylan kicks things off.

“How are you doing?” he asks. “I don’t think I asked you that earlier.”

“Uhm, I’m okay, I guess.”

“You sure? Because I’m not really okay, so I can only imagine how you are.”

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