Page 167 of Between Hate and Desire

“Yeah. Mason and Liam too. They said to let them know when they can come to visit.”

I raise my brows. “They want to come to see the baby?”

“Is that so surprising?” He smirks.

I shrug. “A little.”

“How’d feeding go?” he asks, changing the subject and keeping his focus on the baby. She’s wrapped up like a burrito, sleeping soundly in my arms.

“Really well. Do you want to hold her?”

“I’d love to.” His smirk deepens as he stands, then he leans over me and carefully picks her up. He acts like a total pro, not at all nervous about holding a newborn baby, which is surprising. “She’s so tiny,” he says once he sits back down.

“She was seven pounds, five ounces, and twenty inches long.”

“That literally means nothing to me.” He chuckles, not taking his eyes off her.

“It’s pretty average. I think I was a tad bigger, but otherwise, the nurse said everything looks perfect.” I beam with pride.

Even though my body is exhausted, and I hardly got any sleep before labor kicked in, I’m running on pure adrenaline right now. I could stare at her all day long or even worse—stare athimholding her all day long.

“That’s awesome,” he whispers, admiring her. “Does she have a name?”

“Alison,” I respond with a proud smile. “Alison Kay Locke.”

“Alison,” he repeats. “From your favorite lullaby.”

I’m shocked he remembered.

“Yes, and Kay after my mother. She introduced me to music and this song, so even if she doesn’t want to be a part of our lives, Alison will always know where her name originated from.” I can’t hide the sadness in my tone, but I also won’t give my mother the satisfaction of ruining this moment for me. Whether she came into this world out of wedlock doesn’t matter. She’s perfect and amazing, and I already feel so blessed to be her mom.

“If your mother doesn’t, it’s her loss. Trust me,” Hunter says, meeting my eyes. “Alison’s already changed my life in less than twenty-four hours, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

CHAPTER FORTY

HUNTER

Neither of ushas slept very much in the past two weeks, but I’ve made it my mission to help Lennon with Alison as much as possible. No matter how many articles or websites I read beforehand, I still don’t feel prepared. Lennon’s told me several times that most new parents have no clue what the hell they’re doing, and they wing it. I’m learning how true that is every day.

I know this isn’t my baby, but I’ve helped take responsibility. Holding a tiny human is scary but also exhilarating and surreal. The nights are the hardest for Lennon because she’s exhausted, and I’ve been trying to take turns getting up so she can sleep. We’re navigating our way through this together as best as we can. As long as Alison’s being held, she doesn’t seem to cry.

Lennon’s a natural at being a mom, and it’s such a beautiful thing to watch. I worry she’s not getting enough sleep or resting, but she insists she is between her yawns. Overall, though, it’s not as intimidating as I thought it would be. I was a little nervous about holding her at first, but I’m nearly at a pro-level now, especially after being a spit-up target a few dozen times.

Still, each time I look at Alison, a wave of guilt and sadness overcomes me. The grief of Brandon no longer being here hits me at the strangest times. Though I find myself thinking back about the stupid things we used to do in college and smiling, it doesn’t hurt any less that he’s no longer here. I wish he could meet his beautiful baby girl.

Mrs. Locke is over the moon in love with her and comes over to help out. I’m glad I get to see his mom more now, too. It’s nice to have a reason for her to drop by and still be a part of our lives. When she talks about Brandon, I notice she smiles at the memories like I do. We miss him, but I’m beyond grateful he left us a part of himself through Allie, especially for his mom and Lennon’s sake.

It’s early evening on New Year’s Eve, and I already can’t stop yawning. As I stand in the kitchen, making a pot of coffee, Lennon rounds the corner like she’s on a mission.

Without saying a word, she grabs a mug from the cabinet and waits for the maker to beep. Once it’s done, she pours it half-full, then fills the rest with creamer. Once it’s perfectly mixed, she takes a sip and hums with a grin. I’ve learned not to get between her and coffee unless I want to lose a limb.

“Baby sleeping?”

“Yep. I snuck out when I smelled the coffee brewing. Also, has coffee always tasted so damn good?” She chuckles, pulling out the baby monitor from her back pocket and then sets it on the counter.

I pour some coffee and let it sit for a minute before daring to drink it. The last time I did, I burnt the fuck out of my mouth. “I think you’re extra sensitive to the taste because you’ve been off the hard stuff for nine long months.”

“Probably.” She shrugs. “So did you think of your New Year’s resolution yet?”

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