Chapter 7
Presley
The sound of the phone beeping wakes me from my sleep and usually I would have jumped out of bed. But my eyes flutter closed and I sink deeper into the bed. "Just five more minutes." I snuggle with the covers at my neck. I'm about to slip into sleep again when I hear a soft knock on the door. "Are you kidding me." I slip my hand out of my covers and look at my watch. "Who the hell is at my door at seven freaking a.m.?” I don't know who I'm asking and I also know that no one is going to answer me. "Do you think if I ignore them, they are going to go away?" I don't wait for an answer because I hear the beeping of the front door keypad before the lock opens. "Well, that can be four people," I say to myself. "But I'm going to go out on a limb and say that it's not anybody related to me." The room is dark with the light coming in from the open door.
"Gorgeous." I hear his voice and close my eyes, not bothering to answer him because it's a matter of time before he finds me and it's not like I'm playing hide-and-seek. "There you are," he says from the doorway of my bedroom. "This isn't like you." I hear his soft voice come closer and closer to the bed, and I open my eyes. "Usually, you are out of bed at five." He stands there in blue pants and a white button-down shirt tucked in with a brown belt. The two top buttons are open and I can already taste his skin under my lips. Usually, I see him at the end of the day with his sleeves rolled up but now with them down he looks so official, and handsome as hell.
"I know," I huff when he sits on the side of the bed. "But I literally could not drag my ass out of bed." He puts his arm over me and leans in to kiss my lips. My stomach flutters as I push away the thought that I actually missed him last night. I also ignore that I was surprised that he didn't come over or the fact that I was sad that he didn't.
"I brought you breakfast," he says and the minute he says that, my stomach lets out a big grumble and he laughs. "Looks like I'm right on time. Why don't I go grab the food and bring it to you?" He moves his hand up and down my side.
"What did you get?" I ask him, not even caring at this point, I could eat a house. When did I become so hungry?
"I got you some pancakes, eggs, French toast, and some fruit," he says and all I can do is smile at him. "Does that smile mean I did good?" He leans in again to give me a kiss and I bask in it.
"You did good," I tell him as he gets up and I toss the covers off me, showing him that I was sleeping naked.
"Damn," he says, looking at me up and down slowly. "Maybe I can have breakfast myself." The way his voice comes out makes my knees weak.
"Let me see how good breakfast is and then maybe we can both have dessert." I walk into the bathroom, knowing that he's looking at me. I brush my teeth and go the bathroom, grabbing my white robe he bought me. I look in the mirror, making sure that I don't look like I just crawled out of bed. I also take a second and look at my stomach again. I spent most of last night standing by the mirror, looking at it from the front and the side to see if maybe there was a clue there that I was pregnant. There was nothing there, nothing. My stomach was still flat, and when I walk out, he's walking back in with my big tray. "How much food did you get?"
"Well, considering you are eating for two." He smirks and his eyes light up. "A lot." He stops, waiting for me to get back in bed. "Why did you put your robe on?"
I laugh at him. "Because I'm going to be eating." I prop the pillows behind my back and look down at all the food he's brought me. He places the tray on my lap and walks over to his side and gets in the bed on top of the covers.
"So, what are you going to eat first?" he says, grabbing a strawberry and biting into it and then offering me the other piece. I open my mouth and take it and the sweetness hits my tongue. "Did you call the doctor?" he asks me and I look at him annoyed now.
"It's been twelve hours," I tell him, grabbing my fork and cutting the blueberry pancake he got for me.
"I know, but I don't know, should you call and make sure that everything is okay?" he asks me and I avoid looking at him. "How far along are we?"
"I'm assuming I'm about five weeks." I avoid how my heart beat different when he said the we.
"We should call and set up an appointment," he says between bites.
"We shouldn't," I say, taking another bite of the pancake. "I should."
I look over at him and he just stares at me and my heart speeds up in my chest. "Don't you have work to get to?"
"Is that your way of telling me to shut up?" he asks me, and I want to reach over and run my hand through his hair. His perfectly styled black hair, but instead of doing what I want to do, I turn back and eat my breakfast. "I told Travis."
"I heard," I tell him, grabbing some fruit. "Harlow said you were over there."
"What did your sisters say?" he asks me and I laugh.
"They were surprised," I admit to him.
"What about when you told them I was the father?" he asks me and I say nothing. "You did tell them I was the father." He sits up now and I can't hold in the laughter anymore.
"I mean, I tried to tell them it was Jason Momoa." I try not to smile. "But they didn't believe me."
He puts his cup down on the side table and turns back to me. "Are you done?" He moves the tray off me, getting off the bed and putting the tray of food on the dresser. I watch him the whole time. Everything about him makes my knees weak; it's always been him. Always, from the first time I could never even think of being with anyone else. "So, what are you going to do today?" He sits next to me with his feet on the floor as he leans over me, his lips close to mine.
"I'm going to go to work," I say, running my hands through his hair just like I wanted to do when he walked into the room. "I have a wedding today." I look over and see that I'm already late and I should bust my ass to get out of bed. But I give myself a couple more minutes.
"You"—he bends and kisses my neck on the right side—"are going to call the doctor." He kisses the left side now and I move my neck to give him access. His kisses make me forget everything. "And then you are going to call me." He kisses my lips. "Right, gorgeous?"
My eyes flutter open now. "Are you going to persuade me?" I lean up to kiss him, my whole chest getting full.
"No." He gets up. "You have to get up and get going and I won't have enough time with you."
"Um." I get on my elbows. "It can be only about me."
"It's always about you." He bends once more and kisses me. "But I don't have enough time. Then you are going to be rushing to get out of here and then blame me for being late."
"Fine," I huff. "Then get going or else I'm going to be late."
"Always pushing me out." He smiles at me, leaning down, and rubbing his nose with mine. "You'll call me, right?" He kisses me one more time and I ignore him. He gives me one more second before he says, "Gorgeous."
"Ugh, fine." I throw the covers off me. "I'll call you, now get out."
"Have a good day, gorgeous," he says one more time before walking out. I listen to his feet walk out the door. I move over to the curtain and sneak looking outside as I watch him walk to the car. My heart starts to speed up, just like it always does, and then when he gets in the car and looks up, my heart suddenly sinks in my chest. I fight away the tears that threaten to come but I'm not fast enough this morning, or maybe it's the hormones in my body. The single tear rolls down my cheek. My heart hurts thinking that I can't give him what he needs. Thinking that he deserves someone who is going to love him without all the doubt going off in my head. Thinking that eventually he isn't going to be kissing me awake in the morning. Thinking back to my brother and sisters and seeing what happened to them the first time they tried to find their significant other. Knowing it never worked out and the second time was the charm.
I put my hand to my chest as I think about Bennett being my first everything. He's been my first crush, my first time in bed, the first man I've loved, and knowing that the first one never ever works out. Knowing the history and knowing that I should have let him go before makes me hate myself even more. Knowing that I should have cut this out years ago, but one look from him and I forget it all. One touch and I'm a puddle in his hand.
I walk to the bathroom numb, my head spins, and just like every other time I try to tell myself that it's going to be okay. But it's so much more this time. We are having a baby. A baby. I put my hand to my stomach. "No matter what, he's going to love you forever." The tears roll down my cheeks. "He'll be forever your first love." I smile through the tears now. “He'll be forever our first love."