Page 82 of Storm

My brows furrow. “That’s pretty much what I’m asking.”

Chuckling, he kisses my hand again and stands back up. “It doesn’t matter either way. I’ll admit, I’ve been fantasizing about him being mine. Iwanthim to be mine. If he’s not, well…” Letting that thought trail off, he heads to the door and says, “I’ll grab you a few more bottles of water.”

Stopping him, I want him to come back so I can smack some sense into him. I need him to give me a straight answer.

“Well,what?”

With a shrug, he opens the door. “I’ll just have to try harder next time.” Then he slips from the room, leaving me with my mouth hanging open.

CHAPTER 38

MIRIAM

Dr. Jolee referred me to a really nice OBGYN here where the guys live. It’s much less inconvenient to drive two hours to see her every two weeks, plus when I eventually go into labor, there may not be time to get there.

The new doctor, Joseph Belle, came highly recommended for dealing with high-risk pregnancies, and he’s been incredibly patient with the massive list of questions the guys came to our first appointment with.

Sitting on the table, I let my feet sway side to side in agitation, my back growing sore from sitting at an awkward angle while Dr. Belle is busy writing notes. It feels as if every tick of the clock takes longer and longer to sound and I chew on my nail.

“Can we have sex yet?”

As if a record screeches, Kevin, Richard, Tatum, and I all whip our heads to Ezra, who’s staring at the doctor with the most sad puppy dog eyes I’ve ever seen.

“Ez,” I hiss, but for the first time, he doesn’t pay attention to me. I haven’t discussed any kind of sexual relationship with any of them since I moved in temporarily with Kevin. Not that I haven’t been thinking about it with all the innuendos and kissesbeing snuck in every day, but fuck! A heads up would have been polite.

Dr. Belle slowly lifts his head after dotting something and looks up at him. “I’m assuming you’re asking if it’s safe for Miriam to participate in sexual activities rather than an offer?”

Ezra nods his head profusely and I drop my face in my hand and groan. There are hissed words at him from Tatum, but I don’t care what he is saying.

With a soft laugh, Dr. Belle directs the answer to me. “Miriam, while your blood pressure is still concerningly high, it seems as if your meds are holding it somewhat stable and has even come down a touch. I’m going to modify your bed rest restrictions for now, but I’d like you back next week so we can ensure you aren’t pushing your limits. You can start doing light lifting, nothing over ten pounds, and short walks out of necessity. As far as intercourse,” he adds with a glance to Ezra, “I’d like you to limit that as well. We’re looking to avoid extreme stressors on your body, butlightactivity should be fine.”

He drops his head to write some more and I glare at Ezra. With a few more instructions, we’re sent on our way. I was supposed to ride back with Tatum and Ezra, but I march to Kevin’s car instead, yanking the door open and dropping my ass in the backseat.

“Want to talk about it?” Kevin asks as soon as he’s buckled in. Richard eyes me over his shoulder with concern, but I can’t look at either of them. I’m too embarrassed.

“I’mallgood,papí.”

Considering why I’m incapable of making eye contact at the moment, I can’t help slipping his nickname in. I know it gets him riled, and that makes me happy. Thankfully, they don’t push me on the ride home and I begin to feel terrible for pouting like a four-year-old toddler.

It’s as if my patience, what little I had, slips away bit by bit every day I’m stuck in bed. As we pull up to the house and come to a stop, I exit quickly and skirt back to my room, shutting the door behind me with a relieved sigh.

Gathering my things, I figure since I’ve been given a bit more leeway, I’ll take advantage and enjoy a bath. This room holds an extra wide soaking tub and I’ve been eyeing it since the first day I got here. Vaguely, I hear knocking on the door, but I’m already slipping my foot into the tub by the time one of them has enough nerve to face the hormonal monster locked up in the middle of the house.

After half an hour, I begin to feel twinges firing down my right leg, so I get out and dress. Shuffling around the room, I straighten a few things, enjoying the excuse of being on my feet. I sit on the bed to fold some laundry one of the guys brought in, and I don’t even remember laying down.

Waking isn’t as comfortable as it normally is because this time, my legs are restless. I kick them out a few times, flexing the muscles in my thighs for a moment to ease the uncomfortable ache from them.

I sit up and wince when I try to reach for my ankle. “Fucking hell,” I murmur, unable to reach. My head is pounding, so I rub it for a moment before laying on my side. I try to reach at a different angle, but my stomach stops me, and I growl into the darkness, wanting to sob.

“Want a hand?”

I swear to God, I scream, scrambling up to flip on a light. Kevin is already standing with his hands up in defense.

“Sorry. I came in here to bring you something to eat, but you were whimpering in your sleep, so I sat down to wait until you woke and see if you needed something. Are you alright, Miriam?”

Dropping back, I throw my arm over my face and take a few deep breaths. “No.”

I feel the mattress dip and his voice is much closer when he asks, “What do you need? How can I help?”

---