Page 134 of Implode

“You need to reel this in.”

“This gummy bear means everything to me, and I want to protect it forever.”

“You will,” I say with confidence. “I have zero doubt. But let’s dial it back. Tone it down a bit.”

“Just so you know, thatisme toning it down.”

“How did they allow a dad on their mom blog? Asking for a friend…”

Nic looks to be super proud of himself, as he taps a finger against the side of his temple. “I used a creative screen name.”

I cringe. “And what is it?”

“Notyomomma.”

“Oh my goodness. You are too much.”

Nic looks down at the doll he is holding, cradling it to his chest. He fixes the swaddling blanket around it, as if the foot-long plastic toy could possibly feel any shifts in temperature. “If it is a boy,” he says thoughtfully, “then I can teach him how to be a good man. If it is a girl, then I will teach every boy who crosses her path how to be a good man.”

I burst out laughing over the image. “Help us all if she is a girl. Poor thing will never have a chance to find love with you micromanaging her whole life.”

“Damn right. And I won’t even feel an ounce of guilt. I know how men are.”

“Do you now?” I ask, intrigued at the direction this conversation is going. “Tell me more.”

Nic places the baby onto the recliner. “We are sexual beings,” he says like it is a fact. “Takers but also givers. Protective and territorial and pumped up on testosterone.”

“Meat heads.”

Nic scrunches up his face. “Show some respect.”

I burst into laughter over our exchange. It feels good to be this comfortable with someone that we can talk freely and openly and without hesitation. Nic is my safe haven. I do not fear being anyone but myself when I’m around him, and that alone is refreshing and different from any other relationship I’ve had in the past.

My eyes scan over Nic’s body. He has changed into fresh clothes that Donna and Germain brought in a bag from his place. Now he has well-worn dark denim jeans on and a short-sleeved gray shirt. He looks smoking hot and all mine. “Go back.”

“To which part?” he asks, genuinely confused.

“To the sexual beings part. Let’s focus on that and forget about the rest.”

Nic’s lips lift to a smirk. He then moves over to the recliner and rotates the doll baby the other way to face the chair. “You coming on to me, baby?” he asks over his shoulder.

“I’m trying but you are slow to take the bait.”

“Am I?” he asks, walking closer to my hospital bed. He loses the baby carrier, allowing it to fall to the floor. He looks toward the door and verifies that it is closed. “Maybe I am slow playing this hand. Waiting for you to go all in.”

“Too slow, if you ask me,” I goad. “Either up the ante or I’m going to get bored and fold.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I feel like all of this,” I say, motioning with my hand toward the monitors, “is a bit over the top. I am fine.”

“I could have lost you,” he points out.

“I could have lost you too. But here we are, and this occasion deserves a celebration. So come and get me.”

Nic whips his shirt over his head and is out of his shoes, jeans, and boxers in seconds. He climbs on top of the mattress, bracing his weight on his side, while pulling me toward him. Luckily for me, I am already half undressed and the access is easy. Lifting my sheet, he joins me underneath. His body is like a furnace, and the heat radiates off of him.

“You never cease to amaze me with your appetite.”

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