Page 124 of Tell Me When It's Over

She nods. “I’ll be good once I push this satanic watermelon out of my body.”

There’s a faint snort from the front that quickly turns into a half-assed cough.

“When you and Kyler decide to have babies, you should consider adoption.”

I’m choking on nothing but air as I stare at the woman who’s trying to sit up as Dylan parks

in front of the double glass doors. “W-What?”

Her eyes roll at me, though they’re clouded by pain. I can still see the exasperation in them that reminds me of all the other times she’s knowingly, and silently, called me out on my bullshit. “Neither of you had to say a thing. It was all in that kiss. For the record, I called it.”

I’m speechless as Dylan climbs out and opens the back door. Shaking myself out of what she casually dropped on me, I get out too and help Dylan guide her into the hospital. As soon as a nurse sees her, they wheel a chair over and help her sit while Dylan fills out the necessary paperwork.

“Lenny?” Mia calls as they start wheeling her toward the elevators. “I have a confession to make. I didn’t need to go through that entire scene for the audition. I just needed to see for myself.”

I gape at her. What is she…?

“Kyler needed a push.”

I blink.

Then blink again.

Dylan shakes his head at her, brushing my shoulder. “Can you wait down here for Kyler and her parents? Mine won’t be here until tomorrow at the earliest. We need someone to bring them up to the labor and delivery floor. Number three.”

Number three. “Got it.”

He follows Mia, then pauses. “Whatever is going through your head about Kyler, about whatever the hell scheme my wife worked out, don’t. Don’t think about it. I know you and Kyler, and the more you think about whatever comes next, the more miserable you’ll make yourselves.”

I swallow. “Isn’t it wrong though?”

He goes to speak but gets cut off by Mia’s groans. Quickly he says, “Look at where Mia and I started. It worked out, didn’t it?”

Dylan winces when Mia shouts, “I’m going to murder you, Casanova.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

Kyler / Present Day

“Are you sure you’re okay to stay?” I ask Lenny quietly, even though the only two other people in the private room they sanctioned off for us are my mother and Harry. As soon as I arrived, the buzz of the hospital became apparent that Mia’s labor is already in the news, not that I’m surprised.

She and Dylan talked about doing an at-home birth, but the amount of articles Dylan read online of everything that could go wrong swayed them to choose a safer environment. Unfortunately, that also means little privacy, even though Mercy Hospital is one known for its care of the city’s richer, more famous, residents.

“Quinn is covering for me,” she answers, eyes darting to where Harry is staring at her from across the room. His eyes instantly dropped to our hands when he walked into the hospital, the last one to arrive much to nobody’s surprise, and hasn’t left us since. Every time I lean in to say something to Leighton, I feel his eyes on us. One squeeze of her hand, a hand I’m still holding between us without a care in the world, got me to calm down enough not to say anything to him.

Mom hasn’t seemed to notice since her pacing began. She’s been buzzing about this baby for months, excited to meet her grandson and bury him with all the presents I know she has stacked in the baby’s nursery.

Making conversation passes the time quicker. We’ve already been here for close to five hours, and when Dylan came in to say she was only three centimeters dilated over thirty minutes ago, I figure it means we’ll be here for a lot longer. “Your jackass of a boss won’t have a problem with it? I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

Her eyes go back up to Harry for a moment before she brushes hair behind her ear and shakes her head. “He doesn’t come in today, and Mel won’t mind. She’s been telling me to take time off anyway, and this is hardly something I’d get in trouble for.”

We’re quiet for a moment, my eyes scoping out the room before meeting Harry’s. His narrow, his arms crossed on his chest, but neither of us says a word.

The clock in the room ticks loudly as we all fall into silence, with even Mom looking at the three of us with raised brows.

Eventually, I straighten, unable to take it anymore. “Something on your mind, Harry?”

His nostrils flare. “Care to explain what you’re doing?” is his lackluster reply.

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