Page 46 of Pregnant in Plaid

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"Yeah. Strong kid."

"Like you."

I roll my eyes. "Flattery will get you nowhere."

"Worth a shot." He keeps his hand there, grinning like an idiot every time it moves. "This is amazing."

"It's weird. There's literally a person inside me, and somehow I forget until it reminds me."

"How?"

"I don't know. It just becomes... normal, I guess? Like having another heartbeat." I watch his face. "Does it freak you out?"

"A little." He's honest about it. "I mean, there's a whole person in there. That's wild."

"Tell me about it. I'm the one carrying it."

He laughs, and the baby kicks toward his voice.

"Likes you," I say before I can stop myself.

"Good. Because I already love it."

The words land between us, heavy and true.

"Trace—"

"I know. Too much, too fast." He pulls his hand back. "But it's true. I don't know how not to feel it."

I don't know what to say to that. How to explain that I'm terrified of exactly this—of him being all in while I'm still figuring out which way is up.

My phone buzzes, saving me. Text from Tessa:

Tessa: Don’t forget! Tonight! 7pm. My place. Wear something comfortable.

"Bachelorette party," I explain at his questioning look.

"Right. I have the bachelor thing at Moosehead Lodge."

"Riveting plans?"

"Probably darts and bad jokes. Maybe somequestionable life advice from guys who've never changed a diaper."

"Sounds productive."

"Hey, I'll take all the advice I can get. Even the questionable stuff." He stands, collecting our mugs. "You want breakfast?"

"Always."

"Pancakes?"

"You're going to spoil me."

"That's the plan."

He heads to the kitchen, and I sink back into the couch cushions. The baby settles, finally quiet.

This is becoming a routine. Morning hot chocolate. His notes in pregnancy books. The way he looks at me like I'm not a problem to solve.

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