Page 21 of All or Notching

All the while, I’m restlessly prowling her home, pretending to watch television or lying on the queen bed in the spare room, staring at the ceiling while I ponder the situation and figure out what’s next for us. Where do we take it from here? We’re living together, but that’s all. I’ve used every moment to help her in any way I can—making meals, running errands, and even cleaning her house.

I’ve painted the nursery, set up the crib, and helped her wash and fold little clothes before she tucks them away in the drawers or the closet.

I begged other doctors to switch shifts so I could work as many days as possible, leaving my nights to spend with Laurel. After the baby is born, I’ll be back to the odd hours, but I’ll worry about that then.

At least for now, I can count on Sally to look out for Laurel during the day, and I can cover the night. Except I didn’t think it through because I thought we might spend that time together. While we’ve been physically in the same home, we’ve become strangers. It’s like we don’t know what to say or do around each other.

Is she resentful because I’m invading her personal space? We don’t talk about anything of importance. We don’t talk about the baby. I’ve tried to start the conversation many times, but she always finds something else to do. At least she’s been working from home more recently as her due date nears, and she has had no other fainting spells. Both Sally and I have been watching her like a couple of hawks.

I’ve even tried to bribe her with things I’ve discovered she likes—her favorite decaffeinated coffee, ice cream, and fruit. I’ve made late-night runs to the grocery store to appease her sudden cravings.

I see how she looks at me like she wants to say something or maybe do something. She’s as lonely as I am.

This is insane. I throw my covers aside and rise from the bed. In only my plaid boxer shorts, I march out of my room and take the couple of steps to hers. I raise my hand to rap on the door but hesitate. Before I can talk myself out of what I’m about to do, I knock.

She says nothing.

I try again.

Maybe she’s asleep. Fuck. I shouldn’t wake her if she is. This was a stupid idea. I spin on my bare heel, about to head back to my lonely bed.

“Yes?”

Facing the door again, I clear my throat. “May I come in?”

“Um, sure.”

The knob twists easily in my hand, and then I’m standing inside her room, looking across the distance at her. She’s sitting in bed, not a stitch of clothing on, the light from the small bedside lamp casting a warm glow over her body, leaving much of the room in shadow.

Her breasts are bare, full, and my mouth waters, hungry to taste them.

My chest is tight, and my heart is pounding as I close the door behind me and walk over to stand at the edge of her bed. “Laurel…”

She gasps, her eyes narrowing in on my crotch and evident desire for her. “Honey, I …”

I see her swallow hard as her eyes rise up my torso to lock on my face. “I want you, too. I’ve tried not to. I really did.”

That’s all I needed to know.

I ease down on the bed and stretch out beside her. I can feel her breath on my skin, and I ache with a burning desire to reach out and touch her face with the tips of my fingers, but I’m still nervous that she won’t welcome my touch.

I take a deep breath and raise one hand to cup her face. “Can I touch you?” I whisper.

She nods slowly and closes her eyes, a soft sigh escaping.

With the tips of my fingers, I trace the shape of her features. Her eyes, her nose, chin. My touch is tentative until I graze her lips. My pulse races as I imagine her heart beating in time with mine, and I pause for a moment, unsure whether I should go further. “I want to kiss you.”

Her eyes open, meeting mine with an intensity that takes my breath away.

“Yes,” she breathes.

I lean in slowly and carefully brush my lips against hers. She tastes like sweet honey, and a wave of pleasure washes over me. My lips move softly against hers, my tongue outlining the delicate contours of her mouth. I shift closer.

Laurel responds by leaning into me, pressing her mouth tight to mine, her lips hungry. She’s so eager and passionate that I’m swept away. I feel myself getting lost in the moment, in the sweet embrace of our kiss. I smooth one hand down over her hip, drawing her body into mine, groaning when she wraps a leg over mine, the roundness of our child pressed against my belly.

I deepen the kiss and rock my hips into her. I can feel my body responding to the pleasure of her hands roaming over my back. I feel like I’m spinning out of control. Laurel’s hands move up my chest and around my neck as our kiss intensifies.

Her belly moves and jabs out at me.