Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
I lie still for a few more minutes, memorizing her. The shift of her body against the sheets. The freckle near her collarbone I only noticed last night. The sunlight catches it, bathing it in a golden hue, and suddenly leaving this bed isn’t something I want to do.
I move carefully, sliding out before she stirs. The floor is cool under my bare feet as I pull on sweatpants and head to the kitchen.
The penthouse is quiet. It’s a silence I’ve grown used to over the years. After growing up with three siblings and then living in houses packed with teammates and noise, I welcomed the peace. But it didn’t take long for that quiet to turn oppressive, the kind that reminds you how empty everything really is.
Except now…
Rina’s jacket is draped over the back of a chair, and her heels are sitting by the door. The scent of her shampoo lingers faintly in the air. The space feels lived in for the first time since I moved here.
I beeline for the fridge and take stock of the contents. There’s a wasteland of takeout cartons and half-drunk protein shakes. After a little digging around, I find eggs and a pack of turkey bacon shoved in the back.
And voilà, you have breakfast.
There’s a hiss as the bacon hits the hot pan. The sound slices through the stillness as I pull up a recipe on my phone for the perfect scrambled eggs and then follow each step. Milk, cheese, salt, and pepper. My movements are clumsy but deliberate.
While the eggs cook, I grab my cell and open the text thread with my older brother.
Me: Guess what?
Hayes: It’s too damn early to play guessing games.
Me: I’m gonna be a dad.
Hayes: lol. Fuck off.
Me: Not kidding.
Hayes: Jesus Christ. Who the hell would let your dick near them?
Me: Haha. You’re hilarious.
Hayes: For real tho. Are you serious?
Me: Dead serious. What the hell do I do?
Whenever I have a question or need advice, Hayes is my go-to.
The reply comes through quickly.
Hayes: Get a few books and some prenatal vitamins. Tea helps for nausea. And the most important wisdom I can impart—don’t be an asshole.
A smile tugs at my lips despite myself. I pull up an online store and go a little crazy adding things to my order. Parenting guides, prenatal vitamins, ginger tea. You name it, I toss it in the cart. It feels ridiculous and surreal and somehow… right.
Another message pops up.
Hayes: Can’t wait to meet Little O.
The name hits harder than expected.
Little O.
I can almost see me holding a tiny bundle with my hair and Rina’s eyes as her laughter fills the room. The image nearly knocks the air out of me and leaves my chest tight.
Hope and fear collide, flooding me with equal parts wonder and panic.
What if I screw this up?
What if I’m not enough for either of them?
My gaze drifts to the photo on the bookshelf. The one Rina asked about last night with Mom, Dad, Hayes, Theo, and me. Mom was pregnant with Kia at the time. We looked like one big happy family. It was back when the world made sense. Before the accident stole Dad from us. Before Hayes had to become a man when he was just a teenager.
I can still picture that night.
Mom at the kitchen table, hands trembling as she tried to explain what happened. Instead of crying, Hayes wrapped an arm around me and Theo, doing his best to be strong for all of us. I didn’t understand it then, but that’s the night I learned love can disappear in the blink of an eye.
That’s not a lesson I want to pass on.
I don’t want my kid to ever know what it feels like to lose one of the people who are supposed to always be there. The worst part is, no matter how hard I try, that’s not something I can control.
I push away from the counter before the ache can sink in too deep, and turn my attention back to the pan. I’m no Michelin-star chef, but from where I’m standing, the eggs look edible.
I plate them beside the bacon, pour a glass of orange juice, and load everything onto a tray.
Rina stirs as I walk into the bedroom. Her lashes flutter, and a sleepy groan slips from her as her eyes blink open. She looks gorgeous with her dark hair mussed, sheets tangled around her, and skin kissed by morning light. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more than I want what we’re building to last a lifetime.
“What’s this?” she asks, voice scratchy with sleep as she pushes up against the headboard, brows drawn in mild suspicion.
“It’s a little something I like to call breakfast.” I set the tray on the bed. The mattress dips under my weight as I climb in beside her. “Don’t look at me like that. I followed the instructions to a T. Trust me, these eggs are gourmet level. Your tastebuds aren’t going to know what hit them.”