Page 2 of Waiting for Her

After I finish in the bathroom, I take my robe off the back of my door and wrap it around myself, basking in its warmth and slowly making my way downstairs toward the front door. I don’t know what I was expecting when I open the door, but Max’s smiling face was not it.

“Max?” I whisper, taking in the rumpled black hair, smiling blue eyes, and the fact that he’s only wearing a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and a white T-shirt.

I don’t think I have ever seen Max in anything but jeans and a T-shirt, and the sight before me causes all my brain cells to short-circuit. My eyes drift toward the bag that is casually slung over his right shoulder as I tilt my head to the side, confused.

“Morning, Addi!”

I groan because he is way too chipper for this time of day and it’s causing my annoyance meter to climb way too fast.

“Why are you here?” I ask as he opens his mouth to say something, but I stop him. “And why does it look like you’re staying a while?”

“Because I am.”

His smile never fades, but his eyes turn serious, and that’s when my heart rate starts to pick up, and a laugh bubbles out of my chest. This has to be a dream. It has to be because that’s the only explanation for why this tall drink of water is standing on my porch, telling me he’s moving in with me.

“Excuse me?”

“I told you I was going to help you, so here I am.”

I shake my head, knowing for a fact that is the worst idea he has ever come up with. My feelings for this man are already going haywire because of my rising hormones, but having him nearby is going to drive me crazy.

“You can’t move in here, Max,” I demand, but when those crystal-blue eyes meet mine, my insides melt the way they always do when he looks at me, and I fight the urge to melt into him and take whatever help he’s willing to give. “I don’t need your help,” I lie, hoping he believes me.

“Addison,” he warns, the smile faltering just slightly as I avert my gaze. “You told me days ago that you couldn’t do this by yourself.”

Damn, I did say that. Why did I have to open my big mouth?

“Well…” I start, trying to find the words to get him to go away. “I was having a bad day, that’s all. But I’m really fine… I promise.”

He smiles, not believing a single word that’s coming out of my mouth.

“Addison,” he says again, that tone going straight to my core as I close my eyes and pray my hormones don’t give me away.

My hands find my stomach, rubbing absently as I feel my little nugget rolling around. I debated months ago if I should find out what I’m having, but I’ve always loved surprises and this seemed like the best one I could ask for, so I’m keeping it a secret.

“You can leave now, Max, no need to keep pissing me off this early in the morning,”

“I see you’re still not a morning person,” he teases, ignoring my glare as he walks past me, shutting the door behind him.

He throws his bag onto the floor by the coat rack as if he’s done it his whole life, taking in my disaster of a house. He hasn’t been here since I announced the pregnancy, actually, the only person that has been here is Drew, and that’s only because he’s weaseled his way in when I’ve been sick. I stopped all my Saturday night hockey parties since most of my morning sickness happens at night but if I’m honest, I miss the guys and the way they hogged my couches, took over my television and filled these rooms with laughter and happiness. Right now all these walls ever see is a very pregnant woman crying alone in her room wondering how she got here.

“I’ve never been a morning person,” I admit, walking down the hall toward the kitchen, turning to see if he follows.

Just before I hit the kitchen, a wave of nausea hits me like a ton of bricks. My mouth starts salivating and I break out in a cold sweat, knowing that if I don’t get to a bathroom soon, there will be even more to clean up.

I don’t wait to say anything to Max, I just run to the nearest bathroom, fall to my knees and lift the toilet seat up just in time to see that midnight snack I made myself last night come roaring back up.

“Shit,” I hear from behind me as strong hands wrap themselves around my hair, pulling it back from my face. “You okay?” Max whispers, kneeling beside me as another wave of sickness crashes over me. “Don’t answer that. Stupid question.”

I try to smile but nausea has a grip on my sanity.

“You don’t have to stay,” I mutter through clenched teeth, hoping the worst has passed.

Max doesn’t say a word, just gets up and leaves the room and for a second, I’m disappointed. A part of me wants him to take care of me, something I haven’t had in a very long time. I take a deep breath and sigh, knowing that the worst is over, so I shut the lid, flush, and brace myself in order to pull myself up, but before I can, strong hands are around my waist.

“Whoa, hang on, let me help you,” Max whispers against the shell of my ear, and he practically lifts me off the floor and places my ass down on the toilet seat.

As my eyes adjust to the brightly lit room, it takes me all of ten seconds to see the glass of water sitting next to me.

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