Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 39947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Grant’s place was insane by New York standards. The location was mouthwatering. I’d live in walking distance of work, my gym, and my favorite supermarket. But mainly, I thought this was a good idea because I knew Grant was going to visit New York to see the baby as much as he could, and I wanted to make things easier for him too.
“I really appreciate the offer,” I said evenly. “But if you’re making it just because you feel like you owe me something, please don’t. I promise you, I’ve got this.”
He shook his head. Neither of us touched the curry anymore. “I’m offering you this because I think it’d make both of us very happy, and the baby too. Your parents will be able to come and go as much as they please. I already informed my boss at the new clinic that I’ll be in New York Friday evenings through Sunday nights every weekend to spend time with my child. So this will be convenient for everyone. I mean, I think. You tell me what you prefer. I’ll follow your lead here.”
His expression was painfully earnest. I’d spent the last few weeks obsessing over Jessica, and how much I didn’t want Grant to leave, and the fact that I actually did not think about Connor and Kellianne at all. Maybe all I needed to cleanse my ex out of my life was just one great, female-rage moment. Because no matter how much I tried to cling to the hang-ups Connor had instilled in me, I wanted to make the same mistakes again with Grant, this time expecting different outcomes.
“I’ll move in,” I said. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. Again.
“Yeah?” Grant’s lips pulled into a tentative smile.
“Yeah.”
“This month?” he asked hopefully. “It’d be good to practice living together for the time we’ll spend on the weekends. Plus, we’ll have time to set up yours and the baby’s rooms.”
I searched his face for worry or doubt, and found neither. Grant had been a soundboard for me to lean on ever since I’d sprung this pregnancy on him. He came to my doctor’s appointments and attended my scans, and he’d been nothing but understanding when I told him I wanted to wait until birth to find out the baby’s sex. Heck, he didn’t even flinch when I announced I wanted to name the baby Phyllis if she was a girl. He called it charmingly vintage. Let’s be clear here—it was an atrocious name. I only wanted to see how far his good nature would go.
“Sure. I’ll let my landlord know.” I picked up my curry bowl, then put it back on the table again. I wasn’t hungry. Not because I was nervous but, I realized, because I was excited.
Actually, now that I thought about it, it was entirely possible this was the reason I hadn’t been angry my entire first trimester. Not because of the pregnancy itself, but because of what it meant.
Grant’s time, and attention, and coddling.
I’d suddenly become the center of his universe, and I realized this was my comfort zone. But that only meant I’d have to work extra hard on guarding my feelings. Women like Jessica didn’t evaporate to make room for the competition.
“Just so you know, I collect candles,” I said.
“I love candles.”
“And plants. Lots and lots of plants.”
“Big fan of oxygen.”
“I sing when I shower.”
“I love music.”
“I’m not very good at it.”
“In that case, I have good earplugs.”
“And I eat my cereal in two separate bowls—one for the Kellogg’s and one for the milk.”
“I always wanted to be roommates with a psychopath.”
That made me laugh. He was relentless.
“Any other warnings?” he inquired.
I shook my head. “What do I need to know before living with you?”
“I wake up every morning at five twenty-five to jog. I drink way too much coffee. I snore when congested—and I’m always congested. I have dinner with my mother every third Sunday of the month. Oh, and the last Saturday of the month, I have a D&D quest thingy with my med school buddies.”
“God, you’re such a dork. It’s so hot.” I rolled my eyes.
He rubbed the back of his neck, a small smile on his face. “So? Are you in?”
“I’m in.”
“Wait right here, okay?” Grant stood up before dashing toward the foyer with childlike enthusiasm. I remained seated, feeling like a sixteen-year-old on the brink of becoming the prom king’s girlfriend. He returned from his bedroom with a small silver box. He handed it to me. “Open it.”
“It’s not a ring, right?” I tapered my eyes at him.
“No. I learned from my first spontaneous proposal. Which was still one hundred percent a joke, by the way.”
I popped the jewelry box open. There was a small piece of paper there, with the numbers 1206*. And a key.
“What’s this?”
“The code to my mechanical lock, since the apartment doesn’t have a key. But the other one is to the mailbox.”