“Lucky I am one.” I smirk until she throws a piece of scrunched-up paper at me.
Ava’s guest bedroom has been turned into a nursery. After her baby shower weeks ago, the gifts just sat in here because Ava had no clue what to do. So I offered to help build the crib, thinking it’s the best starting point since we both have no idea how to raise a baby.
“So, have you got anything for your place? There are a lot of double-ups, and I’m sure I can go through it and give you some.”
“Not yet,” I tell her, pausing momentarily, then continuing, “I’m actually looking to buy a place, so it doesn’t make sense to move more things.”
“Oh?” Ava’s mouth falls open. She’s never one to keep her thoughts at bay, her bright eyes revealing everything. “I remember you mentioned that. Have you found anything yet?”
“Narrowed it down to two places. We’ll see.”
Ava tilts her head with a gaze that falls upon her knees. Her fingers scratch at the skin, yet it appears she’s distracting herself more than relieving an itch.
“I mean, if you need money or anything, I’m happy to help. I’m not Lex Edwards, but my company has done well.”
My chest caves slightly, annoyed at her presumption of me not having money nor being able to take care of the child financially. When it came to money handouts, I accepted my parents paying for my college tuition since med school is expensive. Then, when my grandfather passed away, I inherited a property and some cash. Enough to get me settled when I’m ready.
During my college years, I worked while studying then was fortunate enough to get a paid residency.
I wasn’t born into billionaire wealth like the Edwards girls.
The tension in my shoulders mounts, but then I remember my dad teaching me to respect offerings, no matter who they may come from. It’s about the gesture and not my ego.
“It’s fine.” I shrug, with a flat tone in my voice. “When my grandfather passed away, he left me a condo in San Francisco. It’s on the market now. Once that sells, I’ll add some from my savings and can afford a two-bedroom. That’s all I need anyway.”
“Uh, sure, I guess that’s good then. So you don’t have to worry about money?”
“I don’t, but I also don’t live an extravagant existence,” I remark, knowing she’s probably cringing inside. But, after all, we’re talking about Ava Edwards. Once, she demanded her father organize a private plane because she wanted to fly to Vegas for some fashion show which gave out free designer bags. Bags, shoes—something ridiculous like that. “If I’m not at work, I’m at the gym or sleeping. I’m lucky to socialize once a month.”
“But I don’t understand how you’ll see the baby,” Ava blurts out, to then purse her lips. “I’m sorry, that shouldn’t have come out so rudely.”
There are so many unanswered questions. The situation we find ourselves in is less than conventional, and there have been times when it almost seems easier just to move in together, so we get the best of both worlds.
But then—we crossed to the other side.
It didn’t surprise me one bit Ava ran after we fucked again. In the heat of the moment, we both said things. Words that took whatever it is between us to another level.
In a way, Ava traveling and distancing herself should have given me space to think, but all I did was busy myself with work. We were incredibly short-staffed, so the distraction was welcoming.
We agreed on one thing, neither one of us would involve ourselves sexually with anyone else. Easier said than done. My dick has been a nightmare since that night. No amount of pleasuring myself is solving the problem, and it’s not exactly like I can ravish Ava given how far along she is. Not to mention the fact she is struggling with her size and getting comfortable.
My dick just needs a god damn raincheck.
However, Ava doesn’t look like she has the same predicament as me. More than ever, she has been complaining about back pain. We both have busy schedules, so when we see each other, time has passed, and Ava’s stomach continues to grow.
“I don’t know how it will work, okay?” I distract myself with another bolt, screwing the piece in. “Once the baby is here, we can figure it out.”
We work quietly, Ava reading out instructions and me piecing it all together. Then, when the final piece is on, I reach my hand out so Ava can stand up.
“Oh, my god, it’s an actual crib.”
I chuckle softly. “That it is.”
“For a baby to sleep in.”
We both stare in awe until Ava rubs her belly. Even in her third trimester, she still looks as beautiful as ever. If you look from behind, she doesn’t even look pregnant, carrying all in the front.
Ava reaches out for my hand to place it on her stomach. A small kick hits my palm, causing my lips to