Page 60 of Pucking My Bad Boy Boss
"Got it," I nod, trying to mask the whirlwind of emotions inside me. As she gathers her things to leave, I'm left standing there, suddenly alone with the reality of my situation. Pregnant and about to play nurse to the man who's both the cause of and solution to my current predicament.
In truth, the idea of being alone with Dom, especially now with this news, sends a rush of conflicting emotions through me. But I push those aside, focusing on the task at hand. I need to be there for him, as his fiancée, as his friend.
The medic seems satisfied with my decision and, after giving me a list of prenatal care dos and don'ts, she leaves, wishing me well. I'm left alone in the cabin, the snowstorm raging outside, and the reality of my pregnancy settling in.
I take a deep breath, steadying myself. This is not how I imagined finding out I'd be a mother. In the midst of a fake engagement, in a cabin during a snowstorm, with the father of my child injured in the next room.
Taking a deep breath, I turn towards Dom’s room, the fact that everything between us has changed weighing heavily on my mind, along with one question:
When do I tell him?
30
Dom
Isabellastepsintotheroom, and I notice immediately that something's off. Her usual demeanor is replaced by a look of concern, tinged with frustration. I raise an eyebrow, curious.
"What's wrong?" I ask, trying to read her expression.
She hesitates, just for a second, but it's enough to tell me that she's holding back a storm. Then, like a dam bursting, her frustration floods out.
"That… that was incredibly foolish and careless, Dom!" she exclaims, her voice laced with incredulity and rising with each word. "You had no business being out on that ice. You know your knee isn’t what it used to be. What if you’d done serious damage? What were you thinking, putting yourself at risk like that?"
Her words hit home, but I can't just admit she's right. Not when my pride is on the line. "I'm not a child, Isabella," I shoot back, my tone stubborn. "And you're not my mom. I don't need someone hovering over me, worrying about every move I make."
Her face changes at the mention of 'mom,' a flicker of something deeper passing over her features, but she quickly shifts gears. "It's not about hovering, Dom. It's about being responsible. You have a whole team relying on you, a business to run. You can't just throw caution to the wind for the sake of an adrenaline rush."
I wince inwardly. She's not wrong, but admitting that feels like conceding defeat. "Look, I know my limits. I've been playing this game my whole life," I argue, trying to sound more confident than I feel.
Her expression softens just a fraction, but there's still a fire in her eyes. "It's not just about the game, Dom. It’s about thinking ahead, about not making rash decisions that could impact more than just you." She pauses, taking a deep breath.
Her face changes at the mention of 'mom,' a flicker of something deeper passing over her features, but she quickly shifts gears. "Training's cancelled for the day because of the storm," she announces, her tone business-like. "I'm staying here to take care of you."
I can't resist the opportunity for a joke, even now. "Oh? Did the team medic leave a sexy nurse's outfit for you?" I ask, a playful smirk on my lips.
Isabella's response is immediate and without words—she grabs a pillow and hurls it at me. I catch it with a laugh, appreciating her fiery spirit even in the midst of our disagreement.
Her frustration is clear, but there's a hint of something else in her eyes. Concern, maybe? It's hard to tell with Isabella.
Isabella collapses into the chair with a huff, her gaze fixed on me with a mixture of frustration and concern. "You're lucky, Dom," she says, shaking her head. "This could have been much worse. Maybe then you would've realized what a dumb thing you did.”
I attempt to shrug it off, but the sternness in her voice keeps my attention. "The medic said it's a minor ACL sprain and a slight concussion," she continues, using the medical terms with an ease that suggests she's familiar with the lingo. "You need to take it easy, at least for the rest of the day. Maybe this storm is a small blessing in disguise."
I scoff at the idea, the restlessness already building within me. "I'm fine, Isabella. I don't need to be coddled—" I start, trying to push myself up from the bed.
But she's at my side in an instant, her hands firmly pressing me back down onto the mattress. "Don't even think about it, Steele," she says, her voice firm but laced with a hint of playfulness. "You're staying put. Doctor's orders."
I look up at her, about to argue, but the fire and passion in her eyes stop me in my tracks. There's something about the way she's looking at me, a mix of irritation and genuine concern, that makes me pause. For a moment, I'm caught in her gaze, and the world around us seems to fade away.
With a sigh, I relent, sinking back into the pillows. "Fine, Nurse Carrington," I grumble, but there's no real heat in my words. "I'll stay put. For now."
She gives me a satisfied nod, a small smile playing on her lips. "Good. That's what I like to hear."
Settling back into the chair, she crosses her arms, her eyes never leaving me. It's clear she's not going to let me out of her sight, not until she's convinced I'm really okay. And as much as I hate to admit it, there's a part of me that's grateful for her presence, for the unexpected care she's showing me.
The room grows quiet, the only sound the howling wind outside as the storm picks up intensity.
Isabella's phone buzzes again, breaking the quiet tension in the room. She glances at the screen, her eyebrows knitting together in concern. "It's Rick," she says, looking up at me. "The storm's worse than they thought. Roads to the camp are closed, and everyone's advised to stay put for the night."
