Page 29 of Let Me Love You

My stomach tightens, but I force myself to focus when all I want to do is have a mental breakdown right here in the middle of my doctor’s office.

“Should I stop taking it?” I ask.

“The dangers of being off your medication outweigh the potential danger of staying on it. But don’t worry. We’re going to give you the best care we can, and so will your obstetrician.”

He rattles off a copious to-do list for me and sends my prescriptions to the nearest pharmacy. And then, after a final congratulations, I walk back to the Jeep. My legs are numb, my chest is tight, and my stomach rolls.

I’ve dealt with a lot of unpredictable situations in my life. But this one takes the cake.

Baby.

There’s a baby inside me.

And I don’t know if it’s okay. Or if it’s developing properly. Or if Macklin even wants him or her. DoIeven want him or her?

I release a shaky breath and touch my lips, staring blankly out my windshield as a tear falls down my cheek.

I do. I do want him or her. More than anything.

I just hope my epilepsy doesn’t ruin this baby’s body the same way it’s messed with mine.

Resting my head against the steering wheel, I break down and cry.

9

ASHLYN

SeaBird is hopping. The bar is packed with people, but I’m finally feeling a good buzz. With Colt’s hands on my hips, we dance to the band on the stage, the lights dimmed low.

This.

This is what I needed after those girls messed up our date night last weekend. The familiar ambiance. The music. The infamous Colt Thorne as my designated driver for the night, whose eyes and hands are currently on me andonlyme.

“I love you,” I repeat for the tenth time since my last vodka cranberry. It’s buzzing through my veins, leaving a delicious warmth in its wake.

He grins and leans closer, kissing me. “Love you too.”

“Wanna marry you someday,” I add, twisting in his arms until my back is to his front.

“Wanna marry you, too, Sunshine.”

“Wanna have your babies too,” I tell him. My hands slide up as he bends down, and I wrap my hands around his neck, keeping him close.

“How many do you want?” he asks.

I shrug one shoulder, my hips swaying from side to side. “I dunno? A dozen? Maybe two?”

His laughter spurs me on, and I grind my ass against his crotch, loving the way his grip tightens on my waist.

“Careful, Ash. If you don’t stop, I might have to drag you to the bathroom so we can practice making those babies.”

Memories of the last time we hooked up in SeaBird’s bathroom hit me like a shot of whiskey, and I almost moan, my back arching against him while playing with the short strands at the nape of his neck. He splays his hands along my lower stomach, and his pinkie slips beneath the button of my skirt right above my pubic bone. And that’s all it takes. The simplest of touches, and I’m close to jumping his bones in the center of the dance floor.

I peek up at him from over my shoulder. “Don’t tease me, mister.”

He inches even closer and nips at the shell of my ear. “I thought you liked it when I teased you.”

“I like it when you call me pretty.”