Page 51 of Risk

I’ve found my tooth has been a bit sweeter recently. I’m putting it down to that awful black decaf Americano I tried to ingest from that coffee shop when I wasn’t sure what I could drink.

I’ve since learned—thank you, internet—that I can have milk as long as it’s pasteurized. It’s actually a good source of protein, calcium, and vitamins for the baby. The sugar, probably not so much, but I can’t be perfect.

“No judgment here.” He chuckles.

I grab the milk out of the fridge and then switch cups over when one is ready.

I hand it over to Kaden, our fingers touching in the exchange, and heat prickles up my skin.

It’s hard that he still has this effect on me. I need to get past it because this isn’t about me and him anymore. It’s about the life growing inside me.

I turn and lean my back against the counter while waiting for my coffee.

Kaden takes a sip of his, and I see his eyes keep flickering down to my stomach. He knows I’ve caught him doing it because he gives me an awkward smile.

“You freaking out?” I ask him.

“Not as much as I probably should be. But honestly, it just feels surreal.”

My brow lifts. “Surreal how?”

His eyes drop to my stomach again. “Because you have my child growing inside of you.”

My eyes flash up, catching his, and the intensity in his gaze has feelings igniting in my southern region that have no business igniting at all.

Tearing my gaze from his, I turn toward the coffee machine, grab the sugar container next to it, dump three spoons of sugar in the cup, and pour in the milk.

“You weren’t kidding about liking it sweet.” He chuckles from behind me.

“No.” I turn to him, staring at my coffee. “I have a sweet tooth, and I have a feeling it’s only going to get worse in the upcoming months.”

I dump the spoon in the sink, and he follows me back over to the sofa. I see him hesitate, as if wondering if he should sit back on the desk chair.

I make the decision for him, and I don’t sit in the middle this time. I take one side. After a beat, he takes the other, leaving a bit of space between us.

“We have a lot to talk about,” he says. “A lot of decisions to make.”

I take a sip of my coffee and then hold the cup against my chest. “Can we not now though?” I rest my head back against the sofa. I feel drained all of a sudden. I guess the events of the past few days and weeks are catching up to me.

“Of course. We’ll put a pin in it for now.”

“Thanks.” I close my eyes for a moment.

“Are you tired?” he asks.

“A little.”

“Here.” He takes the cup from my hands and puts it on the coffee table. Then, he grabs a cushion and sets it on his lap. “Lie down,” he tells me.

“On you?”

He arches a brow. “Yes, on me.”

Should I do this? Go to sleep with my head in his lap. I mean, is it weird? He’s not my boyfriend. Just the father of my baby. I guess things between us are a little different from a normal friendship, and it isn’t like he’s asking me to fuck him. Again.

“Okay.” I shift around and rest my head on the cushion he put there for me, bring my legs up, and lie down.

And now, I’m not feeling so tired, being this close to him.

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