Page 2 of Knocked Up

“It’s okay. I’m ready for it… I think.” I sip the virgin daiquiri and watch a young couple make out in the corner of the bar. “I mean, I’m gonna miss all this action, but I’ve got other things to look forward to. If I’m being honest, I just thought it would be different, ya know? I thought when I eventually got pregnant, I’d have someone to share all this stuff with. That I’d have a partner to see ultrasounds and feel kicks and,” I rub my hands down over my face, massaging my cheekbones, “I don’t know.” Tears threaten their way onto my skin. “Oh my God, I’m not trying to cry. I’m so sorry.” Grabbing a napkin from the dispenser, I cover my face. I think I’m trying to disappear, but it’s not working.

Imagine that.A napkin over your face doesn’t make you disappear.

A second later, I feel the weight of a giant man sitting next to me, sliding into the booth. “Can I hold you?” Lord, he smells good. Whatever it is, I’m conjuring images of a man with an axe chopping into a piece of wood.

Also, did he just ask if he could hold me?

“If it’s weird, I can go back to my side. I just… you’re crying and I… yeah. My mom always taught me to comfort a person when they cry, but maybe it’s strange right now.”

Oh my God,how sweet is this man?My heart does the squishy thing while I make a mental note to teach my son how to comfort people when they cry.

As sweet as all this is, I’m really tired of these hormones. In the past eight months, I’ve grown an affinity for sliced pickles mixed with chocolate ice cream, I steal strawberries from fields, I masturbate at least three times every day, and I’m always emotional.Really, really, emotional.I gather it’s that combination of my newest personality quirks that has me layingmy head against this stranger's chest, feeling the warmth of his strong body, and melting against his touch.

“Thank you. I, ugh, this is nice. Really, really nice. Lately, I’ve been wondering if there should be a cuddling service.”

“A cuddling service?” His voice reverberates against my ear. “I could see that. There are some nights I’d love a good cuddle, but I think I’d get attached.”

“You?” I lift my head and glance toward him. “A great big lumberjack of a man is afraid he’ll get attached?”

“Why is that hard to believe?”

I lay my head back on his chest as his hand wraps around my shoulder and rubs the outside of my arm. “I don’t know. You look tough, like you spit nails and throw axes. I can’t imagine you being the cuddle and attach type.”

I hear the smile in his voice as he says, “Sure, but when I’m done with all that tough man stuff, I like a good cuddle. It’s one of those things I usually save for personal relationships, so a cuddle for hire kind of thing would confuse me.”

“So, this is probably weird then?”

He snuggles me closer. “It’s also pretty nice for me, too. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah?” I rest my head against his solid chest as though I’ve been here a million times before. It’s at this moment that I leap off the edge and conjure fantasies of him raising the baby with me. It’s not a simple fantasy either. I go all out. I picture the dress I’ll wear to our wedding, what kind of suit he has on.No… jeans. He’ll wear jeans and a crisp, white button-down. There’ll be horses and wildflowers, and the biggest buffet of cakes and chocolate-covered fruit. We’ll have this baby, then another and another after that. They’ll have the same letter first in their name, like Owen, Oscar, and Oliver.

That’s so cute.

We’ll go to church on Sundays, then we’ll plunk down by the river with a picnic, and we’ll fish and watch the kids run around while we talk about how perfect our life is just having each other.

Oh God, I need to snap out of this. I clear my throat before saying, “Why do I find it hard to believe that you haven’t snuggled in a while?”

The rough pad of his thumb brushes over my wrist with a tickle. “I’m one of those workaholic guys. I’ve got a welding business that keeps me busy. Too busy, to be honest. I wish ther—”

“Sorry I’m late!” Zoe tosses her purse down on the table. Her cheeks are red, and her hair is tousled as though she’s had a hell of a time with something. “I was talking to this guy I met online and then I got stuck trying to find parking. I think everyone on the mountain is at this bar tonight.” She glances toward the man with his arm around me, then toward me mischievously.“Oh, who’s this?”

“I’m just leaving,” Cyrus says, sliding away from me at the table before turning back. “It was lovely to meet you, Grace. I wish you all the luck. Maybe I’ll see you around again.”

I’m not sure I’ve ever met someone and connected so quickly. It feels like we’re old friends meeting up again for the first time in ages. That, and I just fantasized our entire lives into reality.

He can’t leave now.

That said, he didn’t ask for my number, and I can’t blame him. I’m eight months pregnant.Who wants to get tangled up in that?He was probably just making me feel better in the moment. That’s what nice people do.

“Yeah, I hope so.” I swallow hard, a pang of sadness in my chest as the goliath of a man walks back into the crowd of people and disappears.

Chapter Two

Cyrus

“Where the hell were you, man? You said you were bringing back wings.” My buddy Brooks leans on the tall standing table to the left of the stage with a downturned expression. “I’m starving.”

“Sorry, they’re all out.”

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