Page 62 of Aced (Driven 4)
But I love you more.
“Don’t be mad at Sammy. I made him drive me,” she says with a cringe, and I hold back the snort I want to give because Sammy’s a badass motherfucker. I doubt she made him do anything but at the same time, I know how Rylee gets when it comes to her boys.
“Have you talked to Zander? I need to make sure he’s okay.”
The saint. In a moment that’s all about her, she’s thinking about them.
“Rylee,” I say with a sigh but know she won’t give up or relax until she knows they are okay. “I just talked to Shane.”
“What did he say about Zander?”
“We talked. Shane’s still there with him. I’m sure he’s fine. Let’s worry about—”
“No. He’s not. He was scared and said some things that—”
“I’ll call him, okay? Make sure he’s all right. If I promise to do that, will you stop worrying about everyone else and start thinking about yourself right now?” Her huge violet eyes look up at me, searching to see if I’ll really make sure, and when she likes what she sees, she worries her bottom lip with her teeth and nods reluctantly. “Good, because I wasn’t taking no for an answer.” I flash her what she calls my panty-dropping smile. She rolls her eyes.
“Did you forget that this is my show, Ace?” She laughs as she reaches out and fists a hand in my shirt to pull my lips back to hers for another kiss. By all means. Kiss away. “No need to give me that smile, considering I’m not wearing any panties to drop in the first place.”
I laugh long and hard over that. The hospital gown, the monitors on her belly, the rubber gloves. They all scream sexy. Not. “So there’s no chance—”
“No chance in hell,” she says, pushing against my chest and as silly as it seems, this banter makes me feel a bit more relaxed about what it is that’s about to happen to us.
“You in pain?” I ask, unsure exactly what to ask or do.
“Only when I have contractions,” she says with a smirk. Smartass.
“So we sit and wait?”
“We sit and wait,” she agrees. I link my hand with hers and sit in the chair beside her bed.
Hours pass.
Minutes tick. Seconds lag.
Anticipation riots. Boredom reins. Doubt lingers.
I’m excited. Can’t wait to meet this little person.
Contractions come.
What am I doing? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I’m not ready to be a dad yet.
Contractions go.
Suck it up.
I’m brash and moody and selfish and I say fuck way too much.
Quit being such a pussy.
Contractions come.
I’ve never changed a diaper. Never even held a newborn. God, what am I doing? I’m completely clueless. Inept. How could I think I could do this?
Contractions go.
It’s a little too fucking late to turn back now, Donavan.
