Page 164 of As The Shifter World Turns

Ivor

Why did I agree to this? I asked myself for the hundredth time. Ryder and I could have stayed in what used to be his apartment, and was now ours. It was small, easy to keep clean and the baby could have shared our room. Sure, we’d be tripping over each other but whatever.

The bedroom door was open and I eyed the pile of baby paraphernalia lined up against the wall in the living room, plus caught a glimpse of the boxes Ryder had packed for the move. It was only down one flight of stairs but it could have been at the ends of the Earth.

If I didn’t get out of bed soon, Daire would be huffing and puffing up the stairs to 3B. He’d moved the furniture he wanted from 1A in the past few days and sold us a few pieces which wouldn’t fit into the smaller apartment, but he’d been busy with work and left the rest until today, which was our moving day.

1A had been painted last week and Daire paid for cleaners to come in. They’d had to maneuver around his stuff but had done a good job. New curtains were arriving some time today as well as additional furniture we’d bought.

“Tea and toast.” Ryder appeared with a tray, his damp hair suggesting he’d already showered. Being pregnant prevented me from doing some tasks, like lifting heavy boxes, but Ryder had really taken the lead and I was so grateful. My anxiety levels would have seen me hiding under the bed covers if he hadn’t stepped up.

“I’m heading downstairs to see if I can give Daire a hand. Anything you need, just yell.”

“As soon as I’ve eaten breakfast, I’ll get up. Promise.”

“No hurry.” He headed out the door and even though his stomping down the stairs was hardly a pleasant sound, it was one I recognized as my mate.

Sipping tea and nibbling on the toast had my mind wandering to the Moving List on my phone. But I was reminded of what Joy suggested, which was to enjoy what I was doing without checking social media or my messages.

Except the phone pinged. I ignored it for a minute and then the familiar pounding of Ryder’s feet on the stairs had me cursing. Damn. It was him messaging me.

He stuck his head into the bedroom. “Daire says we bought the armchair that was in your old room. Is that right?”

Pregnancy brain was bad with me wandering around in a fog most days. I had so many reminders set for work events, worried I’d forget something important. “I don’t think so.” That chair needed to be tossed or donated.

“Okay. I’ll tell him.”

Staying in bed was no longer an option, so I took a quick shower and gazed longingly at the bed, wishing I could climb back in.

“Ivor, what do you need me to do?” Neil was at the open door as Daire stalked past carrying two huge boxes. My friend narrowed his eyes at the grizzly shifter and said, “Why didn’t he move his stuff earlier. 3B has been vacant forever.”

I shrugged. “Busy, I guess.”

The phone dinged and this time I snatched it up, not wanting Ryder to come upstairs again. Though it occurred to me he’d be going up and down taking our stuff all morning.

It was Archer saying he was in 1A and ready to help. He could have shouted up but Ryder might have told him I was still in bed. “Archer,” I told Neil.

But Daire must have heard me and his voice drifted down from 3B. “Archer, can you bring the blue bag up here? It's on my bed.”

“Thought I was here to help you,” Archer panted to me as he hefted the bag up to Daire’s new place. “And why are you doing this today, Daire?”

I couldn’t make out his mumbled reply.

“Neil, just the person I need.” Ryder charged through the door, a smudge of dirt on one cheek. “We can move the baby stuff.” He pointed to the flat packed crib lying against the wall. “But we have to wait for Daire to move his things before we can do anything else. I don’t know why he didn’t do this earlier.”

“Busy,” our grizzly shifter friend growled from the landing.

“That’s a lot of diapers,” Neil noted as he peered into boxes.

The front door bell rang. “That’ll be the new shelves,” I told my mate. “I’ll go.”

“No, I can do it,” Neil said.

He disappeared and Ryder picked up more baby things and left. He musthave given up on the messaging because a few seconds later as I surveyed the stuff in our living room, he shouted, “Where do the shelves go, Ivor?”

I walked onto the landing, wishing I could say, “I don’t care,” but instead, I waddled down the stairs, making sure to hold the railing so I didn’t trip. “The baby’s room.”

The blank expression on my mate’s face told me all I needed to know. “My old room.” We now had three bedrooms and the third would be a home office.

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