We hang up and I bury my face in Tubbs-McGee's fluff. I think maybe, just maybe it's all going to work out. For everyone.

21

Daisy

"I have a doctor's appointment next week." I'm lying in bed with Kyle. Tubbs-McGee is on the chaise that no one uses except Tubbs-McGee, which makes me wonder if it's actually just a really fancy cat bed. He's pissed off because we're reading in bed and refused to turn off the light for him. He did a lot of sighing and meowing and tried to knock Kyle's iPad out of his hands with his giant furry paws. Then, when he didn't get his way, he sulked over to the lounge chair and now he's glaring at us like he doesn't manage to take an eight-hour nap every afternoon in full daylight.

Kyle drags his attention away from his iPad with a slight head turn in my direction.

"If you want to go," I continue. "It's no big deal, if you don't. You don't have to. It's my first appointment with the new OB/GYN your cousin recommended and whatever happens at a sixteen-week appointment, which is probably nothing. If you're busy it's no big. You were just at the last appointment. Never mind."

I inhale because I just said all of that without breathing, because maybe it's a bigger deal to me than I'd care to admit. Maybe not doing this by myself is more important to me than I'd like to admit, too.

"I'd like to go."

"Okay." I turn my attention back to my own iPad.

"If you don't mind."

"I don't."

"The baby might be sucking its thumb already," Kyle says a moment later.

"What? How do you know what it's doing in there?" I place a hand over my tiny bump and rub it. I'm not sure why, it's not like it's a genie and it's gonna pop out and grant me wishes or confirm if it's a thumb-sucker.

"I got the book."

I blink at Kyle, glancing at his iPad and back to his face. "What book?"

"What to Expect When You're Expecting. You told me to read a book."

"Oh, my God."

"What? I'm doing my research so I don't ask you stupid questions."

"Yeah, but that book is full of embarrassing things happening to my body."

He smirks. He fucking smirks.

"Luke recommended it. He said it was quite comprehensive."

"Ugh. Why does your hot cousin have to be a gynecologist? It's so weird."

"He's married."

"Yeah, okay?" Not really sure what that has to do with anything, but okay.

"Just throwing that out there."

"Because I said he was hot?" Is he kidding me? "Are you jealous? You're hot too, it's not a contest. Besides which, I'm pregnant. It's not like I'm out trolling for men."

Smirk.

"Isn't there some guy version you should be reading?"

"I don't know." He sets the iPad down on his nightstand and turns toward me, placing his hand over mine where it's resting on my stomach. "I wanted to get the same information you were getting."

"You're probably ahead of me, you overachieving nerd."

"I'm on chapter nine."

"Nine! Ugh. I'm still on seven. Why do you even need to know all this stuff? All you have to do is drop me off at the hospital and I'll call you when we're ready."

He turns on his side, one hand still over mine on my stomach, the other propping up his head. "You're expecting that I'm going to drop you off at the hospital and come back when you're done giving birth? Are you out of your mind?"

"Ugh, I don't know." I flop onto the pillows. "It's just going to be endless hours of waiting between me sweating and pushing and grunting. I don't want anyone to see me like that."

"You let me see you sweating and squeezing and grunting all the time." He smiles when he says it, his eyes darkening and the hand on my belly sliding a fraction lower.

"Oh, my God." He did not just say that. I cover my eyes with my hands.

"Daisy, you cannot possibly expect me to pace around in the waiting room like a 1950s episode of I Love Lucy while you give birth to my son or daughter."

"You were the one who suggested this 1950s arranged marriage. Or whatever it is that we're doing," I add, because he's silent.

"Yeah," he finally says, but he's reaching under the giant T-shirt (his) that I'm wearing to bed and slides my panties down my thighs, so I guess we're done talking, which is fine because oh, my God, he's replaced my panties with his tongue. He's lying between my thighs, looking up at me over my swollen stomach and making direct eye contact while he spreads me with his thumbs and sucks my clit between his lips. Holy Jesus.

"You know what else was popular in the 1950s, Daisy?"

The drive-in? Hula hoops? Cunnilingus? Oh, God, he's just bent my knee and spread my legs wider. "What?" I ask, barely getting the word out.

"Twin beds," he says with a delicious little grin.

"Terrible idea," I eke out. "I bet those poor women never got a spontaneous tongue on their lady bits."

"Hmm, probably not. Take off the shirt."

"Why am I always the one who's naked?"

"Because I like looking at you. Now hush and let me work."

"I admire your work ethic. I've been meaning to mention it."

"Hmm-hmm," he murmurs. But it's muffled because he's otherwise engaged with his lips. The thing about Kyle is, he's really comfortable doing this. Really... really... comfortable. I gasp and clutch the sheets with my hands when he adds a finger. He rims me with it, around and around. Teasing. Tormenting. Playing.

His other hand slides up my stomach. Slowly, he touches me like there's no rush and it's his damn job to pleasure me. Fingers spread across my skin until he reaches my breast and squeezes. I'm shaking, it feels so good. My chest is heaving even though I'm not doing anything but taking. Experiencing. Enjoying.

His hands are in constant movement. Smoothing, stroking, teasing wherever he can reach. His mouth is in constant motion too. Licking, sucking, nipping until I'm on the edge. I know he won't stop until I'm there, he will camp out between my legs until it happens and honestly it's so freeing, not worrying about it. Not feeling pressured to orgasm before he gets bored or his jaw starts to hurt. So I relax and enjoy the build-up. I'm wet and slick and Kyle is loudly enthusiastic and even knowing how into it he is, I blush a little when I can hear how wet I am.

And then I'm there... right there. "Oh, God." My back arches and I'd worry about suffocating him but I'm shaking and it's too much and I want to wiggle away but Kyle hooks my thigh over his arm so I'm immobile and forces me to ride the high for what feels like forever and oh, my God. "Kyle," I breathe his name on an exhale. "KyleKyleKyle." I love you, I think to myself. "I liked that," is what I say out loud. "So much." I'm blinded by my orgasm, now's not really the time to declare anything, right? Not when his lips are still wet with me and he's climbing up the bed to lie beside me. Good oral can make a woman lose all rational thought, until she's blurting out things she can't take back.