Page 42 of The Best Friend Problem
He smiled. “I agree.”
She smiled back, and there was a moment, a single second when she could have sworn she saw something in his gaze—heat. A heat she remembered.
The last time she’d seen it in his eyes, she’d ended up pregnant.
She found herself swaying forward, toward him. His gaze flitted down to her mouth, which opened of its own accord, her tongue coming out to graze her suddenly parched lips.
He was going to kiss her again. She knew it. She could feel it.
But then, he shifted back against the seat, head turning to face the windshield. His fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly.
“Night, Pru.”
Shaking herself out of whatever stupor had fuzzed her brain, she opened the car door. “Good night, Finn.”
She hurried to the front door of her building, practically running. What the hell had that been? They’d almost kissed. Again! Maybe it was just baby hormones. Yes, that was all. They just had some weirdness going on right now because of this odd situation.
This would all blow over soon. Things would get back to normal again.
Except there was this tiny doubtful voice whispering in the back of her mind, causing her to tense with the fearful knowledge that one night with Finn hadn’t been enough to sate her. Why did her body crave what her mind knew was a bad idea? And was she strong enough to deny herself?
Chapter Ten
Pru woke up clutching the oddly long U-shaped pillow Finn had delivered to her place a week and a half ago after she complained about her back hurting like she was an eighty-year-old who’d worked hauling bricks her entire life. He had offered to find a solution for her, and the next morning he’d shown up with the heavenly cushion, saying it was the same kind that his sister-in-law swore saved her back during her last two pregnancies. He texted every day, checking in with her, seeing if she needed anything, dropping by at random times to give her pillows and morning sickness lollipops. Which she very much appreciated, since the term “morning sickness” was a big fat lie. More like “any time of the day or night sickness” and especially when Lilly drank her disgusting-smelling spinach and mango smoothies after working out.
Finn had gone into caring overdrive. Though he’d stop purchasing anything for the baby since the disastrous crib incident, he said taking care of her was just what a best friend was supposed to do. Since every day she felt crappier and crappier, she had no problem with him pampering her. As long as he didn’t try to take baby decision out of her hands again, they were good.
She laughed at herself, the chuckle turning into a groan when her stomach pitched and rolled.
“Oh, come on, Peanut.” She rubbed her flat belly. “Mommy hasn’t even gotten out of bed yet. Can we hold off on the hurling for five minutes?”
The acid working its way up her throat said no, no they could not. She tossed back her blankets and raced for the bathroom. Luckily, their apartment had two, and the moment she started puking twice a day, Lilly and Mo insisted she take the front bathroom while they shared the back. She made it just in time to heave up…nothing, mostly, but some water and the remnants of the late-night ice cream binge she’d snuck when she woke up at midnight craving rocky road.
“This baby-making is hard work.”
She clung to the toilet bowl, letting her stomach settle before she flushed and stood to thoroughly brush her teeth. A soft tap sounded on the door.
“Yes?”
“I come bearing special candy.” Mo’s voice filtered through the closed door.
Feeling slightly better after her new morning puking ritual, Pru turned the knob, opening the bathroom door a crack.
“You better mean my nausea lollipops and not the special candy in the goody bags from the ‘Marriage of Mary and Jane’ we did last spring.”
The two brides thought it would be hilarious to combine their love of a certain plant now legal in Colorado and the fact that their first names were slang for said plant. Since their wedding had been twenty-one and over only, they’d given each guest a goody bag with a sample of Colorado’s newest economy-driver with the strict instruction that the contents could not leave the state.
“Hey, I might have been raised by a couple of hippies, but even I know you don’t give a pregnant woman weed.” Mo lifted the small bag Finn dropped off last week. “Lollys to the rescue. And you really need to keep these by your bed for the mornings.”
She should, but she kept forgetting. “Thanks, Mo.”
“You’re welcome. Oh, and Lilly already made her smoothie and promises to finish it while you shower so the smell doesn’t bother you.”
Bless her understanding and thoughtful roommates.
“Want me to make you some toast?”
She moaned. “Yes please. I don’t deserve you two. You’re too good to me.”
