“Are you going to ditch me too?” I raise a brow at Rae.
She laughs and shakes her head. “Nope, you’re stuck with me.”
“Oh, good.” I breathe out a sigh of relief. “I’m going to get a cupcake,” I tell her, and hop up to go order.
It’s liable to make me sick, but a cupcake is worth the risk.
I order my blueberry cupcake with lemon frosting and head back to the table. Lately, I’ve been craving lemons—of all the crazy things. I asked Xander to go out and buy me whole lemons the other night and then I proceeded to eat them like an orange. He looked at me like I was crazy the whole time, but I’m growing a human so I’m allowed to be insane.
I remove the wrapper from my cupcake and take a bite.
“Oh, my God, that’s is so good,” I mumble around my mouthful of cupcake. “Best damn cupcake I’ve ever eaten.” I groan. “Text me to remind me I have to put a quarter in the Swear Jar when I get home.”
Rae immediately picks up her phone to do just that. My phone chimes a second later with the reminder text.
Xander and I should be embarrassed by how full the jar already is. Well, I should be, because the majority of it is my quarters. He’s maybe had three slips, while I’ve had dozens.
I can’t be expected to change overnight.
Sometimes habits die hard.
And, apparently, this one doesn’t want to die at all.
I finish my cupcake, and since it seems to be staying down I decide to order another one for later. Rae looks at me like I’m crazy, but, again, I’m growing a human.
Armed with my cupcake box and a refill of lemonade, Rae and I head outside in the summer sun. It’s the third week of August, and I can’t believe how fast the summer is passing. I’m glad that I’m not going to be hugely pregnant until the winter, though. I don’t think I could stand the summer heat at nine months pregnant.
“Let’s run in there.” Rae points to a shop that’s full of stationary.
I shrug. “Lead the way.”
I follow her inside the store, and I’m immediately overwhelmed by the smell of paper. I throw down my stuff and slap a hand over my mouth, running back outside.
I manage to make it around the corner and to a bush before I empty my stomach.
Goodbye, cupcake. You were good while you lasted.
“Thea? Thea? Are you okay?” Rae calls, her steps thudding on the concrete behind me. She reaches me and touches her hand to my back. I wipe the back of my hand over my mouth and straighten.
“I’m okay,” I tell her, my voice slightly shaky. “It was just the smell of the paper. It was too much.”
“I’m so sorry. I should’ve thought.”
I shake my head. “You never know what will trigger the sickness. Don’t feel bad. If it’s okay with you, I just want to head home now.”
She nods sadly. “Yeah, okay. I’ll walk you to your car. Let me go back in and get your stuff.”
I nod, smiling gratefully at her.
She returns a minute later with my stuff and we then walk side by side to my car.
“You need a new car,” she tells me.
I laugh, placing my purse and cupcake on the passenger seat before turning around to face her. “That’s what Xander says.”
“Xander’s always right.” She grins, waiting for my reaction.
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t tell him that—he doesn’t need a bigger head than he already has.”
“Xander’s the least cocky guy we know,” she counters. “Jace is the worst.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “You have a point. We need to knock him down a few pegs.”
“I notice you always seem to try to do that.”
I wink. “What can I say? Some people have a talent, like playing piano, or making pottery, mine is deflating guy’s egos. Someone has to do it.” I sigh heavily like it’s such a hard job.
“Bye, you nut.” Rae hugs me.
I hug her back and then head around to get in my car. She waves from the sidewalk, the wind stirring her hair. Her dark brown hair is halfway down her back now.
I pull away from the curb and when I look in my rearview mirror, I see Rae walking away in the opposite direction.
We’re all going in different directions now, and it makes me sad.
I miss what used to be, and I’m terrified of what’s to come.
Xander
I walk in the house after practice, my body spent.
Everything aches.
Seriously, things I didn’t know could ache, do—like my toenails.
“Something smells good,” I call out, kicking off my shoes in the mudroom.
Prue comes running at the sound of my voice, and I bend to greet her. “Hey, girl.” I kiss her head. She sticks her tongue out and licks my face.
“I made lasagna!” Thea calls back, and then I can hear her singing along to a song.
“I got you something … Well, the baby something.” I stand and round the hallway into the kitchen.
I smile when I find Thea in the kitchen, her hair clipped up, and wearing nothing but a pair of underwear and one of my white dress shirts.
Fuck, I’m the luckiest guy in the world.
It’s moments like these that hit me the hardest, how lucky I am. It’s not something I ever want to take for granted.
Thea smiles at me and it hits me like a ton of bricks.
I used to live for football, and even my grades—because fuck if I was ever going to fail—but now all I live for is that girl’s smile.
“Hey,” she greets me with a smile, swaying her hips to the song.
“Hi, beautiful.” I lean against the counter, holding the gift in my hand. I asked the lady at the store to gift-wrap it, and when I did she asked me if the baby was a boy or girl so she could match the paper. I told her we didn’t know yet, so she wrapped it in a pale yellow paper with green ducks.
“I missed you.” She leans over to meet me and kisses me, before returning to what she’s doing, which is covering bread with some sort of butter garlic sauce.
“Do you want to open your present?” I ask, tossing the small box from one hand to the next and catching it easily.
She stops what she’s doing and flicks a piece of hair out of her eyes that’s fallen loose from her clip. “I told you I didn’t want to buy anything for the baby until we knew if it was a boy or girl. We have a couple more weeks.”
I grin, undeterred by her words. “Trust me, this was perfect and you’re going to love it for a boy or a girl.”
“All right, if you say so.” She stops what she’s doing and cleans her hands on a striped dishtowel. She holds her hands out for the present and I hand it to her. “Something isn’t going to jump out and scare me, is it?” she asks, raising a brow.
I shake my head. “I wouldn’t do that to you, now please open it,” I beg, impatient.
When I was in the city today I drove by a store with all kinds of baby things so I stopped and went inside. When I saw this I knew I had to get it. It was made for our baby—and I selfishly wanted to be the one to buy the baby’s first anything because I know Thea’s going to go crazy once she knows the gender.
She peels the paper back slowly, her lips lifting into a smirk, and I know she’s messing with me—making this take as long as humanly possible.
“Thea,” I practically beg and she laughs.
She rips the paper off then, revealing the small white box beneath.
“A box?” She mock gasps. “What could it possibly be?” She shakes it, and listens.
“Thea,” I warn again, and her smirk grows.
The girl is evil.
She lifts the flap of the box and pushes aside the pale pink and blue tissue paper.
“Oh, my God.” Her jaw drops as she removes the slippers from the box. “Xander,” she barely whispers my name. “They’re perfect.”
I grin, pleased that she’s happy. “I did good?” I confirm.
She nods, clutching the slippers
to her chest. “They’re perfect.”
When I looked over in the store and saw the hand-knitted shark slippers, almost an exact replica of the ones I got Thea years ago, except baby-sized, I knew I had to get them.
Thea’s lower lip begins to tremble and I’m shocked when I see a tear course down her cheek. “Thea?” I probe.
She sniffles. “I’m okay … It’s just … this was really sweet … and I’m pregnant … and hormones.” She shrugs by way of explanation.
I go around to the other side of the counter and bring her into my arms. She wraps her arms around my back, clutching at my shirt. Her tears dampen my shirt.
“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” I murmur, kissing the top of her head.
“S’okay,” she mumbles against my shirt. “It was a good cry.”
I step back and take her cheeks in my hands, rubbing my thumbs over her smooth skin. “I love you, and I already love this baby so much,” I tell her honestly and her eyes lower. “This is going to be amazing,” I whisper, my breath tickling her face.
Her hands move around to my front, pressing into my abs. “I hope you’re right.”
“I know I am, sweetheart.” I kiss her nose. “Can I help you finish with dinner?”
She nods gratefully and wipes her eyes with her hands. “Can you pull the lasagna out of the oven? I’ll finish with these and stick them in there for a few minutes to brown and then everything is ready.”
“Sure thing.” I grab an oven mitt and pull it out. It smells delicious, and I can’t wait to dig in. I’m starving.
I set the lasagna on the cooling rack and Thea pops the bread in the oven, closing the door.
I wind my arms around her hips and pull her against my chest.
“Xander.” She giggles, trying to pull away, but I don’t let her.
Now that I’ve caught that girl I’m never letting her go.
“Dance with me,” I whisper in her ear.
“Why?”
I brush my lips over the curve of her neck. “Because there’s music and I want to dance with my wife.” We’re already swaying slightly back and forth.
She turns in my arms to face me, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Dance then, ball boy.”
I shake my head. “Do you always have to make jokes when I’m trying to be romantic?”
She grins up at me. “You wouldn’t have me any other way and you know it.” She winks.
I smile back at her, because she’s right. We move to the song, slow dancing in the kitchen.
I know it’s a simple thing, dancing with my wife in the kitchen of our new home, but this is something I’ll never forget.
Especially her tiny little bump pressing into me—I definitely never want to forget the feel of that.
“Ugh,” she says suddenly.
“What?” I ask, worried.
She clears her throat. “I just keep feeling this weird fluttering feeling in my belly. I think it’s just gas or something—the joys of pregnancy.”
I tilt my head, thinking over something I read. “Thea … I think you’re feeling the baby move.”
She shakes her head, looking at me like I’m crazy.
“No, no way.”
She stops dancing and backs away from me, getting the bread from the oven and setting it beside the lasagna. Prue watches us from the floor, hoping for a crumb.
She stands with her hands on her hips and looks at me. “Do you really think it’s that?”
“I think so.” I nod. “I read something that said a lot of women think it’s gas when it’s really the baby moving.” She presses her hand to the small swell of her stomach. “Are you feeling it now?”
She nods. “Yeah.”
“Can I feel?” I hold out my hands to her stomach and wait for her to nod. When she does I place my hands against the white shirt and feel. I don’t feel any movement, just the heat of her skin. I frown, disappointed.
“You don’t feel it?” she asks, and she sounds as sad as me.
I shake my head. “No, but don’t freak out. I also read that the mother feels it first before it’s noticeable on the outside—so if that’s what it is I should feel it a few weeks.”
I keep my hand pressed against her stomach, hoping maybe I’ll feel something. She places her hand over mine.
“This baby is so lucky to have you as a daddy,” she tells me.
I remove my hand and cup her cheek. “And you might not see it, but this baby is incredibly lucky to have you as its mommy.”
She looks away, like she doesn’t want to hear my words—doesn’t want to believe them.
I still haven’t figured out a way to show her that she can do this, but I know I’ll think of something eventually.
For now, all I have are words, and I’ll keep telling her over and over again until she believes them.
“You’re too good to me,” she finally says.
I shake my head. “Just telling the truth.”
She steps up on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to my lips before backing away.
“Let’s eat, I’m hungry.”
She doesn’t have to tell me twice.
I cut the lasagna and set out our pieces on plates. Thea adds the bread.
She carries the plates over to the table and then I get us each a bottle of water.
“Thanks for making dinner,” I tell her, sitting down across from her.
“You’re welcome.” She grabs a napkin from the basket in the center of the table.
I dig in and the food is amazing. After a long day of being in the gym and then a grueling practice this is much needed.
“Thank you for the baby slippers,” Thea says around a mouthful of lasagna. “I can’t believe you found ones that practically match mine.”
I grin at her. “I’m magical like that.”
“You’re something, that’s for sure,” she agrees.
“Rae invited us to dinner Saturday and I said that was okay with us—it is, right?” She raises a brow, baiting me to see if I’ve made plans that extend beyond Friday—which is our second wedding’s anniversary.
Three years, it’s insane.
I wince. “Um, no.”
“No?”
I shake my head. “No, because I made plans for us to leave Friday and go somewhere over the weekend.”
“Humph,” she harrumphs, obviously pleased to have pulled this information from me.
“I’m not telling you where we’re going, so don’t even waste your breath asking,” I warn her.
“You’re mean.” She frowns.
After I forgot our first wedding’s anniversary, I felt like shit, and I set about making it up this time around.
I booked us a three-day stay in a nice cabin up in the mountains. Just me, her, and nature. I know it won’t exactly be Thea’s kind of thing, but the place is nice with an amazing view and a great spa, so she’ll survive.
“You’ll let Rae know we need to reschedule?”
She waves a hand dismissively. “Yeah, I’ll tell her.”
We finish our dinner and clean up together. I let Prue out and Thea folds the blankets in the family room.
I come back in with the dog and grab Thea, tossing her over my shoulder.
“Xander!” she squeals as I run up the stairs with her.
I smack her butt and she laughs harder.
I push the doors open into our room and jog over to the bed, dropping her on it.
“You suck,” she says, looking up at me with her hair fanned out around her head.
I lean over her, bracing my arms on either side of her head. “You love it and you know it.”
I pull away from her and grab a pair of sleep pants from the drawer. I already showered after practice, so I change my clothes and climb into bed.
Thea changes into her pajamas and gets in bed too.
“We should talk about baby names,” she prompts, grabbing the baby name book off the side table.
She picks it up and flips to a page. “I lik
e Arielle for a girl.”
“Like The Little Mermaid?” I wrinkle my nose.
She rolls her eyes. “That’s Ariel.”
“Hate it.”
She sighs. “Moving on. What about Aiken for a boy.”
“Are you going in alphabetical order?” I joke.
“Yes,” she sighs. “It’s easier. I have them all marked that way.”
“Aiken is a no,” I say. “It sounds like Anakin.”
“Oh.” Her lips part. “I didn’t even notice that. Okay, girl name … Brielle?”
I raise a brow. “Do you have a thing for names with elle?”
“Apparently so,” she laughs. “Boy name, Caleb.”
I shake my head. “It’s not bad, but it’s too plain. I can’t see us as Xander and Thea with a kid named Caleb.”
She crosses Caleb off her list.
“Eh—never mind.”
I grin. “What was it?”
“Elle,” she tells me, amused at herself. “Okay, what about Finley for a girl?”
“Eh.” I wave my hand back and forth. “That’s the best so far but I think there’s something better out there. Something more … us.”
She presses her lips together thinking.
“Do you have any suggestions?” she asks, handing me the book.
I take it from her and flip through it. “What about Hank for a boy?”
Her mouth parts, horrified, just like I knew she’d be.
“Xander,” she hisses. “We can’t name our potential future son something that rhymes with stank, bank, tank, and God knows what else.” She gestures wildly with her hands.
I laugh. “Okay, Hank is out. It was just a suggestion.” I play like I was serious about the name.
I flip through the book and land near the end of the alphabet.
I scan the names and grin to myself.
“That for a girl, and that for a boy,” I point to the two different names on the same page.
She looks from the names to me, and back again with wide eyes. “Those are perfect,” she breathes.
“It feels right to me too,” I admit. “Wow, I’m surprised that didn’t take us the whole pregnancy,” I joke.
“Now we need a middle name.”
She takes the book from me and flips back a few pages.
She bites her lip as she scans the page and then a slow grin appears on her lips.
When Constellations Form (Light in the Dark Book 4) Page 14
