Because whatever it is, I’ve got it.
I’m hot. Achy. Slick between my thighs. The temptation to open that door and join him is damn near unbearable.
Biting my lip, I stare at the shower, gaze locked on the dark silhouette of him standing beneath the stream of water.
Shit. Even though it’s blurry, I can still see enough that I can make out the dark patch of hair between his legs, and the curve of his butt as he turns under the water. I can still see the shape of him.
Oh my… could he see my outline?
My breasts?
My bump?
My arse?
Did that sight make him want me still? Or did seeing it kill the mood?
“I can feel you watching me, Angel,” he rasps, and I gasp at getting sprung and spin to face away.
11
Since sharing the bathroom with Ringo this morning, I’ve felt nothing but hot and bothered. He knows exactly what he’s doing when he teases me. I enjoy it way more than I should. But now, I’m beginning to regret not getting in the shower with him.
“The gel will be a little cold,” says the sonographer, a middle aged woman with short, spiky purple hair.
She smiles warmly as she lowers the towel draped across my bump, revealing it to herself, and everyone else in the room.
As usual, my cheeks flush.
At this point, I’m starting to wonder if I’ve got an underlying medical condition, because surely no one blushes this much and survives.
My gaze darts to Ringo, leaning casually against the wall by the door. The room isn’t big, so he’s not far, but right now, he feels worlds away, and I don’t like it.
Lexi is beside me, holding my hand, and Andrea is standing behind the sonographer, watching on with quiet support.
My heart races as Ringo’s whiskey eyes drop to my stomach. It’s the first time he’s seeing my bump in the flesh, and I can’t help but worry he’s picturing Kylie, lying in the dirt while some random man…
No. I can’t bear to think about it.
“If this is too much…” I start, but Ringo’s eyes snap back to mine and he shakes his head, a frown tugging at his brows.
“I’m not going anywhere, Angel.”
“Dad can come closer if he likes,” the sonographer offers.
Oh.
Shit.
She’s not to know Ringo isn’t the dad, and my cheeks practically burst into flames in mortification.
“Oh he’s not…” I trail off, completely thrown as Ringo pushes off the wall and strides forward, dragging a chair up next to Lexi like he belongs there.
“Yeah, Dad would like.”
Wait, what?
My wide eyes dart to Andrea, who is smothering a laugh, then to Lexi, who is grinning like the devil herself.