Page 35 of Inked Craving

It could be anyone from work, my past, or even someone I’d walked by on the street that decided to do this. I hadn’t gotten another note since the one that came with the chocolates, but I’d kept it. I wasn’t even sure what to do about it. When I called my friend from college, he had thought I was insane by even asking. We’d all grown up. And it honestly wasn’t something that he would normally do. So, I had laughed it off, yet worry still settled in my gut.

It was odd. I didn’t know what it all meant. So, I had worked that day, and now I was going to Paige’s, something I did more often than not.

If a day ended in Y these days, I went to Paige’s house. Today, it was for lunch, something I would be making and not bringing over. We had both promised that we’d get better at cooking. For the baby. Not that I would be living with her or helping her raise said baby. I was just here for the pregnancy. And then I would walk away.

I frowned as I pulled into the driveway.

“Walk away?” I whispered. That didn’t sound right. I supposed I would help her when she needed me. It was what I was doing now. When would it be too much? When would I want more?

Or, at least, more than I already had.

Paige opened the door as soon as I got out of the car, and I grinned. “Waiting for me, are you?”

She rolled her eyes. “I made salads.”

“I thought I was cooking,” I said as I walked up to her and kissed her cheek. It was just something we did now. Normal. It wasn’t weird.

It was totally weird, and I was probably messing everything up, yet I didn’t know what else to do. We acted like a couple who wasn’t a couple, but I didn’t want to ask her about it, either. I didn’t want to talk to her about it. Because if I did, she would get stressed out, and she was ready to have the baby any minute now. I did not want to be too much for her.

Her eyes warmed as she peered at me, and I tried not to look too much into it. It was getting harder and harder to do these days. “All I did was take a bagged salad, a rotisserie chicken, and call it a day. I don’t know if that counts as cooking.”

“It’s still closer than all the takeout we’ve been having.” I pulled off my jacket and set my phone on the table. “I know you can’t have any cheese or anything right now, but do you want something other than the salad?”

Paige shook her head. “No, I think I got heartburn last night from dinner. I don’t know. It’s annoying because I can’t tell if it’s from food, the baby, or just me stressing about food and the baby.”

I reached out my hands and raised my brow. “May I?”

Paige grumbled. “You know you don’t have to ask to touch my stomach. Yes, the rest of the world does, but you and my family do not. Mostly because I’m tired of saying yes. I like when you say hi to the baby.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “I like when I say hi to the baby, too.” I leaned down, pressing both hands to her stomach. The baby kicked, and I grinned. “Hello, there, little rock star.”

“Do you think she’s going to be a rock star?”

“I think they could be anything he or she wants to be.”

“I keep thinking it’s a girl in one minute, and then maybe a boy. I don’t know. It’ll be fun to see what happens. You know, after the whole scariness of childbirth and pain and screaming and crying and everything else that happens wears off.”

I shuddered. “I was at that child birthing class with you and Annabelle. Or the end of it, at least. I remember what happens. I saw the video.”

Paige cringed. “Don’t remind me of that.”

I snorted. “Shouldn’t I? You’re the one who’s about to go through that.”

“I’d like to go into this thinking that it’s not going to be painful. That I just go through it, and some form of endorphins make me forget.”

“Is that really how that happens?”

“I don’t know. But if I’m going to pretend, then I’m going to make sure I live in this blissful harmony.”

“Anything you need.” I pressed a kiss to her belly and then to her cheek. There was something seriously wrong with me if I was torturing myself like this. But Paige kept looking at me, kept kissing me back, so maybe we were good at living in denial. It was a peaceful place.

“What are we doing, Lee?” she asked, and I froze, surprised she’d asked the question.

“What do you mean?” My heart nearly stopped, and I tried to act casual, though I knew I was failing.

“You know what? Whatarewe doing? You’re here every day. You’ve gone to birthing classes with me.”

Panic sliced through me. “Because we’re friends.” Not quite a lie.

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