Page 42 of Buckin' Around

God above, you eejit, Riley.

A few minutes later, Spencer appears in my doorway as I’m lifting Ivy from her bassinet.

And he’s?—

A cowboy.

His white cowboy hat sits on his head. A duffel bag hangs from his hand. Boots, jeans, and a shiny buckle complete his look.

I choke on the breath I fail to drag in, and Ivy starts fussing.

My messy bed hair, the baby in my arms, and my apparent inability to breathe have heat filling my face and neck fast.

“Note’s on the counter. Don’t toss it out this time. I leave straight from work. See you Sunday.”

He’s gone before I can reply. Ivy is suckling on my overheated neck, bubba drool running down my skin and between my breasts.

My little lady is hungry.

“Always, hey, Ives,” I mutter.

I potter around, getting her bottle ready as she snuggles my neck. Her little fingers grip and curl around my pajama top. With the apartment to ourselves, and the early start, we take our time.

When both of us are dressed and fed, I make the executive decision to attend classes via the Teams link today. I don’t want to drive this tired with precious cargo, and if I am completely honest, I have grown attached to the sofa. It was love at first sit.

I set Ivy up on one end of the sofa as she squirms and babbles away. Her sweet little baby sounds make the sleepless night a little easier to accept. Her blonde hair, a stark contrast to mine, is growing longer. With those blue eyes of her daddy’s, she’s going to be a gorgeous kid.

With my laptop set up and sky-blue headphones by my side so I don’t wake Ivy, I log into the university’s student portal and navigate my way to the online cohort section.

In person is always better than remote, but sometimes sacrifices must be made in the name of the people you are responsible for. A fact I learned too young but am glad for the lesson now. Forced to grow up fast when our parents died, but I can’t say that it hasn’t come with a few perks.

Being the head of our family has to be my favorite perk. My family is my greatest source of joy and pride—even on the days my eejit brothers mess up. No matter how much we fight sometimes, I know we will always have each other’s backs. Always.

Ivy loses a huffed cry, pulling me from my reverie.

Her pacifier has fallen from her mouth and is now resting precariously on the edge of the sofa cushion. I pop it back in for her and rub her chest.

“Nap time, sweet girl. Riley has to be in class, okay?”

She sucks on her pacifier, and I readjust her onesie before swaddling her in her pink wrap. With a soft sigh, her eyes fall closed.

“Good girl. We got this.”

The video bursts to life, the lecture theater in the frame as the professor says his good mornings.

Ivy’s eyes widen, her little mouth gaping as she screams.

“Bollocks! God dammit.”

Headphones, woman.

I turn on the headphones, and the Bluetooth connects immediately. Ivy’s cries settle as I rub her chest with soothing noises falling from my mouth, my gaze stuck on the screen. I can’t miss class.

When Ivy’s settled, I glance over to find her back to sleep.

Loosing my own sigh, I lean back into the sofa and watch. I slide the earpiece closest to Ivy up off my ear so I can still hear her.

Here’s hoping I don’t fall asleep in class like my girl here.