Page 46 of Waiting on You

Sounds good. Text me once you’re ready for me to come over. I’m just at my hotel, working remotely.

“DoI dress up or dress comfortably?”

I texted Nate that I’m home and he’s welcome to come over whenever he wants, but when I started to take off my work clothes, I realized I had no idea what to put on, so I video-calledAna.

“You’re at home and pregnant. Nobody will judge you for dressing comfortably.”

“Yeah, but…”

“But what? You’re attracted to him, so you want to look your best because you’re pregnant and horny and you haven’t gotten laid in four months?”

“Jesus, Ana,” I grumble. “You got all that from me barely saying two words?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know Nate, but I know Julian, and he doesn’t care what I wear if I’m willing to give it up.”

She waggles her brows, and I groan because she isn’t wrong. A part of me is worried about the baby’s and my future, but the other—horny—part of me remembers how good Nate was in bed and wonders if he’d be interested in scratching my itch.

“God, this is so complicated.” I groan into my hand.

“Is it though?” Ana asks. “You like him, and he likes you…”

“And he lives over two hundred miles away.”

“Oh, I meant the sex.” She grins innocently when she’s anything but.

“Goodbye,” I mutter dryly. “I need to go figure out my clothing situation.”

“I vote for pajamas,” she says with a laugh. “Oh! Or something sexy, like lingerie.”

“Goodbye,” I repeat.

“Tomorrow morning, breakfast. I can’t wait to hear all the juicy details!” is the last thing she says before I click End onthe call.

“Did I misunderstand?”Nate glances down at my heels and then lets his gaze roam up my body with an appreciative but confused look. “I thought we were ordering in.”

Despite wanting to wear comfy pajamas—and sexy lingerie was a hard no—I went with a cute plaid skirt, a stretchy, long-sleeved black top, and heeled black boots. Nate and I are still getting to know each other, and I didn’t want to appear like a slob who’s letting myself go only a few months into my pregnancy.

John hated when we had people over and I dressed for comfort instead of to impress. He’d always say that people judged based on looks and the last thing you wanted was for people to think lowly of you because of how you dressed.

But the second I look at Nate—dressed in a pair of gray sweats, a white T-shirt that molds to his sculpted body, and a pair of Crocs—I immediately chide myself for letting dumbass John get inside my head.

Oh well. It’s too late now.

“No.” I shake my head. “You didn’t misunderstand.”

Without waiting for him to respond, I open the door wider so he can come in, and then I show him around my place since it’s his first time being in here. It’s a three-bedroom, two-bath home, and since it’s only me, I use one room as a home office and the other as aguest room that’s never been used since I don’t really have any family coming to visit and the few friends I have live nearby.

“I’m planning to turn that room into the nursery,” I tell him.

“You have a beautiful home,” he says. “It’s exactly how I pictured it.”

“Thank you,” I say, trying to hide my wince as we walk back out to the living room. My boots might be cute, but they’re sure as hell not comfortable.

“Come here,” Nate says, sitting on the couch and patting the spot next to him.

Once I join him, he lifts my feet into his lap and then unzips and pulls one boot off and then the other, making me audibly sigh.

As he massages one of my feet, I lie back on the couch and enjoy it. Being pregnant has changed my body. I haven’t put on a bunch of weight yet, but I’m sore, and my feet tend to swell. I looked it up, and the pregnancy sites say it’s due to water retention.

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