Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 117415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
And just before they leave, Austin’s phone quacks.
Not moos. Quacks.
“Thanks, Fiona,” mutters Austin to himself, cracking a smile, as we stand at the front of my house and watch them drive away.
And just like that, it’s quiet again.
Like the concert never happened. Like it’s just Austin and me alone again, enjoying his two-week break.
Like it’s always just been us this whole time.
Austin turns to me, his arms settling around the small of my back, his eyes pouring into mine.
“So …” he says, filling the gentle air.
“Yeah,” I say right back, then let out a small, nervous chuckle.
Then we come together, my face against his shoulder, his against mine, as his arms close around me in that sweet protective way that makes everything else fall away.
My favorite place in the world.
“I guess …” I start to say, voice buried somewhat in Austin’s shoulder, “this is when I … say something life-changing …?”
He chuckles. “Or we just bug your parents and insist to help clean up the mess in the backyard.”
I pull back just enough to look at him. “Austin …”
“Or, if you’re afraid of facin’ their wrath over us bein’ way too dang helpful, we could take up Billy and Tanner’s offer to go head-to-head at the arcade this afternoon with their game-happy kids?”
I smile distractedly, remembering. “Right. We, um … could …”
“Wasn’t that pastor guy I met for half a second also roped into the plans? Since he and his husband left early before the fireworks and we didn’t chat with them much, it’d be a nice chance to—”
“I think I have to do something first.”
He peers at me. “Do what?”
After a moment’s thought, I begin to slowly nod. “I … I think I need to …” I swallow. “… to have a talk with my parents.”
His gaze hardens with understanding. “About your future.”
“About a number of things.” I give his arms a squeeze as I let go. “I just hope … I hope they …”
He gently takes my hands, bringing my focus back to his eyes, grounding me in that amazing way only he can do. “They love you. Trust that love.”
I close my eyes, squeeze his hands, and nod.
Then I peer back at the house. It looks like a gargantuan bug with eighty eyes and it’s lunchtime soon.
“Want me in there with you?” he asks suddenly.
I turn to him. “No, no, that’d be too much.” The next second, I blink. “Or maybe that’d be perfect …? Yes.” I nod, realizing it’d be impossible for my parents to get upset if he’s there. “You’re exactly what I need. I need you there. Be next to me.”
Austin smiles that self-assured, cocky-ass smile of his.
Exactly what I need to see.
Y’know, before I enter the mouth of that gargantuan, hungry, eighty-eyed bug.
I gather my parents in the downstairs study. It’s easy. My dad was already there looking for a book. My mom was nearby in the kitchen finishing a bagel. People are in the backyard loading stuff up from the party and nothing needs their attention.
It’s the perfect time.
And here I sit in a chair across from them. Staring the two of them down like they’re strangers. Austin in a chair next to mine.
Is it the perfect time? Could this have waited another few days or so, letting us ride the high of the party before I go and do this?
Am I about to ruin everything?
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” asks my mom when I don’t say anything for quite some time.
Crap. I’m already starting this off wrong. “Sorry. I’m just …” I clear my throat. “I’m trying to, um … find the words. I swear I had them,” I add, like a little joke, desperate to lighten everything up. “Must’ve misplaced them. Like, in my head. Or something. Okay. I found them. I’m ready.” I take a breath—then grab Austin’s hand. “We’re pregnant. It’s a boy.” I sigh. “S-Sorry, I’m … losing my mind and making jokes instead of just—Is it hot in here, by the way? Did someone flip off the AC?”
Austin’s thumb rubs gently over mine, our hands still held.
I peer at our hands, once again grounded by his magic touch.
It was absolutely the right call, to ask him to be here with me. I don’t know if I’d have the courage to do this without him. Or to say the right words. I’d probably just talk myself in circles until finally deciding I brought them here to share a funny story about Samuel and the dogs he was trying to get my mom to adopt.
I let out a shaky breath.
It’s the last shaky breath I’ll let out.
I look up at my parents.
Really look at them.
My mom and her concerned eyes, leaning forward, listening. My dad and his quiet, contemplative way of studying me, his thin mouth locked tight, allowing me the space to gather myself while also retaining a bit of guardedness, unsure what’s coming or how he’ll choose to react to it. He literally didn’t budge at the pregnant joke thing. Not that I expected him to. Neither did Mom, to be fair.