I turn into my room, careen off the door jamb as my shoulder slams into it, and then right myself. I skid into the bathroom and drop to my knees at the toilet so hard I know there will be bruises there tomorrow.
Barely making it over the top, I open my mouth and vomit like I'm being exorcised. There goes my 3 A.M. snack of pretzels and ice cream as it hits the water with an echoing splash off the toilet bowl. After the first explosion is out, I take a deep breath, hear Luc's footsteps in the bathroom, then heave again with so much force I think my stomach starts to come out. I also make the most horrific grunt-crying type of noise as I expel not as much, but enough it splashes again.
"Jesus, Stephy," I hear Luc say, but he sounds like he's in a box or something. Maybe I blew out my own eardrums with the violence of how I just vomited.
I heave again but nothing comes out.
A cold cloth is then placed against the back of my neck as I hug the toilet, and Luc rubs my lower back as I heave again. My ribs actually hurt and I choke on some residual but highly acidic bile and I wait for it to happen again.
But to my immense relief, the nausea disappears just as suddenly. In fact, I'm in the post-vomit orgasmic-like bliss that overtakes you where you feel like you could run a marathon because that's how good you feel after throwing up.
I push back from the toilet, one hand coming to hold the cloth at the back of my neck before flopping over onto my butt with a terrible groan. My bathroom is small, but I can lean back against the vanity cabinet and stretch my legs out. Rolling my head, I look at Luc, who is kneeling so close to me my thigh is pressed up against his knees.
My eyes drop to my legs, then back to him. "I didn't shave and this close you can see the stubble. I'm gross."
"You just filled a toilet with vomit," he says with a smile, then sits beside me. "I'm pretty sure it's not your legs that are gross."
I snort, then we both start laughing. I move the wet cloth from the back of my neck to wipe my face as I move on to chuckles and then silence as we sit side by side.
"So that's morning sickness, huh?" Luc hazards a damn good guess.
"I'm thinking sausage might not do it for me," I mutter as I roll my head back and stare at the toilet. I then groan at the thought of having to go through this every day. "I can't do this."
My voice is extra whiny on purpose, so I'm assuming Luc knows I'm teasing about that as well, also because he chuckles as he brings a hand down to my bare thigh and squeezes. I was prepared for this, and while being nauseous is like the worst thing in the world, I'm pretty sure it's not what I need to be worrying about. No, that would be pushing a bowling ball out of my vagina.
Rolling my head back left, I look at Luc again, and he's smiling at me. "I've got your back."
"You can't hold my hair over the toilet each time I'm sick," I point out.
"No, but you can call me if I'm not here and tell me all about it," he says, and fuck...he's serious. That's not a joke. "I will totally commiserate with you."
And that, right there.
That brutally honest offer of true empathy hits me straight in the middle of my chest, which squeezes to the point I can't breathe. We stare at each other a moment, and my mind races to make a joke.
Talk about the weather.
Hell, I'd take another round of vomit to make this sensation go away.
If I was feeling okay, I'd distract him with sex, but that's out.
But then my lungs sort of expand and I'm able to take a breath in. When I blow it out, the tension is gone and I feel back to normal.
Sort of.
I still know without a doubt that Luc is in this for the long haul with this pregnancy. Put what we have in bed aside, he wants to help me.
I don't know what to do with that. I'm not sure I can handle the feelings that are being produced. Outside of Hilda, there's never been anyone who looked out for me, and it's incongruous to everything I've ever learned in life about people and relationships.
So I move past it until I can figure it out.
"I'm going to go out on a limb here and tell you that you aren't getting any this morning," I tell Luc sadly. Yes, I'm sad because I was very much looking forward to getting naked and carnal with him again. "I need to let my stomach settle a bit."
"I don't mind," he assures me, because despite everything, Luc is a gentleman.
"Why don't you head out and go enjoy your day," I suggest kindly. "Salvage your Sunday. I'm going to lie on the couch and take it easy this morning."
"Like I said...you're cute," he says with a smirk, and then pushes up off the floor. Staring down at me, he points to the sink. "Brush your teeth, because while I may not be fucking you, I will be kissing you at some point."
I just blink at him in a daze, not really understanding. "Huh?"
"I'm going to hang out with you here," he says, but then amends, "actually, I'm going to have you tell me what does sound good for breakfast and I'm going to get it for you, and then I'm going to hang out with you. We can watch movies on the couch, and if you're feeling better later I can fondle you. It will be a great Sunday, trust me."
It's absolutely impossible for me not to smile, and he takes this as my assent as he holds his hand out to me. I clutch it hard and he pulls me up from the floor so quickly I stumble and fall into him. His hands go to my shoulders to steady me, but he pulls his head back from me with an exaggerated grimace.
"You are not kissing me until you brush the vomit out of your mouth," he scolds as he turns me toward the sink.
I shrug his hands off me and growl as I snap up my toothbrush. "I wasn't trying to kiss you, jackass. I stumbled into you."
"Keep telling yourself that," he says as he slaps me on my ass.
I give a tiny yelp as I whip around to glare at him, and I consider kicking him in the nuts, but then I melt when I see the intense expression on his face. It's filled with wonder and awe. "You are so fucking sexy when you get mad."
I roll my eyes at him and turn to grab the toothpaste, putting a little too much on the brush before I jam it into my mouth. I look at my reflection above the sink and try to ignore Luc.
This becomes impossible when he steps up behind me.
I brush my teeth and try to ignore the goose bumps that break out when his hands come to my hips. He stands a good foot taller than me, so he simply looks at me in the mirror over my head.
With his eyes locked on mine, my brush goes still in my mouth when he squeezes me gently. "You are so fucking sexy all the time."
I just stand there, almost hypnotized by the deep rumble of his voice and the way his eyes hold me with their intensity.
"Even with your vomit breath and hairy legs, I still have a hard-on for you."
And to prove this, he steps into me, pressing his erection into my lower back. My eyes flutter shut for a moment, and when they open, his gaze has softened.
After pressing his lips to the back of my head, he says, "Now what do you want to eat for breakfast?"
I blink once, then again, mentally shaking myself out of my Luc-induced trance. Leaning over the sink, I spit out my toothpaste and look back up at his reflection.
I smile at him and say, "Plain oatmeal, I think. I have some in my cupboard."
Luc grins at me and winks. "I'm on it."
And then he's gone and I don't understand why I keenly feel the absence of him just now.
Chapter 7
Lucas
I surf on my phone while Levy and Rocco work on their homework at the kitchen table. I periodically glance at them to make sure they're actually working, but they're pretty diligent kids. Levy, who is in first grade and working on spelling words, has his tongue stuck out the side of his mouth in concentration. Rocco, a second grader, is reading a book. It's open, lying flat, and his hands are folded below the table as he leans forward while his eyes move over the words. He's the oldest of the three kids, and he seems the wisest, since he was more aware of what was happening when his mom died almost two years ago and
they came to live with their Aunt Jules.
They are good kids, which is why I didn't mind watching them after school so Max and Jules could go to Annabelle's dance recital. She's almost five, and could not have looked any cuter in her little costume when they left. I promised to feed the boys a snack--which was a drive out to Goodberry's for ice cream and promises not to tell Max and Jules--then we went to the park and played for a bit. When we got home, the boys were more than willing to start their homework and I now I'm just hanging out until my duties are over.
After babysitting, I'm going to over to Stephanie's for the evening, and that makes a big smile sweep over my face as I scroll through my Twitter feed.
I hear the front door open and both of the boys' heads pop up. Annabelle's voice filters in as she's chattering away at Max and Jules as they come into the kitchen.
Jules slips her purse off and puts it on the counter as Max helps Annabelle take off the jacket she wore over her pink leotard and silver tutu.
"Well, were you a shining star?" I ask Annabelle, and she nods with a beaming smile as she approaches me. I pick her up and put her on my lap, and look up at Max. "Should we be submitting applications to Juilliard?"
Max chuckles and then leans over Annabelle, brushing his lips over her hair. "She was amazing."
Yeah...Annabelle may have been born to two other people who are no longer around, but there's no doubt that Max is her father now. He loves these kids like they're his own. And that means Uncle Lucas loves them that way too.