Page 89 of Who's Your Daddy?

17. Lia

I’m not emotionallycastrated (as Raf once told me). I’m not anti-social. I’m not being a bitch. I just want to be left alone and do nothing. I’m busier now than I ever was when I was employed, and I’ve finally reached my limit on social interaction. Peter seems to have some sort of bucket list of all the things he wants to do one last time before the baby arrives.

We’ve been to art festivals and theater productions and museums and baby fairs. We’ve enjoyed nature walks and picnics and chocolate tasting. He even took me to a cozy cabin in Montana over Christmas. He went skiing in the morning, we made snow angels in the afternoon, and then we roasted marshmallows and made love beside the fireplace at night. It was magical. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would experience such incredible things. And I enjoy the good life. I really do, but I am maxed out.

I can’t do it anymore. I haven’t reached the point where I have to walk around constantly supporting my back, but I’m uncomfortable. My feet are swollen, and it feels like my bladder is about to drop out of me at any moment.

On the topic of bladders, mine is officially broken. I can’t sneeze without peeing anymore, so that’s been fun. But that’s not the reason I bailed tonight. In all honesty, I’m just tired and grumpy and I want to veg out on the couch while doing absolutely nothing. The radio station that Tommy and Isabella work for hosts charity events throughout the year, so they’re always involved in community initiatives. They often get invited to different galas and dinners.

They asked Peter and I to join them today for one such event, a fun run during the day, ending with a carnival later tonight. I’m thirty-two weeks pregnant. Walking is already strenuous for me, so running is out of the question. I just couldn’t muster enough gumption to go. Especially on a Wednesday. Who goes out during the week, anyway?

I told Peter to go without me, and my plan for this afternoon is to just laze in front of the TV. I struggle to get comfortable, and after flopping around a few times on the couch, I finally find the perfect angle. I scroll through the endless array of movies on every streaming service we have and still can’t decide on anything to watch.

I can’t even settle on a genre, so I just mindlessly flip through the selection.

Free Guy

Avatar

Jumanji

Scroll. Scroll. Scroll.

When in Rome

Just Married

27 Dresses

Scroll. Scroll. Scroll.

I smile to myself when I seeStep Up. I remember the night we watched it together. Peter hated every single second.Magic Mikepops up right after, and my smile grows wider as the memories of that night play in my mind.

“I think it’s very possible for you to still see tits tonight.”

“Oh, yeah?” Even in his drunken state, he rolled on top of me, sliding his hand up my T-shirt. “Please tell me you’re talking about your tits and you’re not suggesting that we watch Magic Mike.”

This is the problem with being pregnant. My hormones are all over the place. I’m so uncomfortable, but now I’m also...horny. I close my eyes and indulge in the memory...

The warmth of his mouth as he kissed me. The way his hand cupped my breast. When that wasn’t enough, he stripped off the T-shirt and took my nipple into his mouth. He was hasty, reaching into the drawer for a condom. He laughed when his impatience caused him to topple the box and condoms everywhere. His lips claimed mine again, and I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his mouth.

“Lia?” he said, tapping my cheek.

I opened my eyes. “What?”

“You fell asleep.”

“I wasn’t...” I slurred. “I wasn’t sleeping.”

He grinned. “Yeah, you were...for almost a whole minute.” His words are also slow, and he drops down lethargically beside me. “Maybe we should try this again tomorrow.”

“No.” I slung my leg over his, trying to entice him. “I want to...I really want to.”

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