“Maybe you’re rethinking that kissin’ rule?”

I laugh and shake my head. “Maybe.”

Maybe I’m rethinking all of it.

“Okay,” I whisper to myself in the mirror. “You can do this. No touching, and you’ll be fine.”

The night was really fantastic. Wyatt made me feel as if no one else existed. His attention was mine. Most of the time we danced, but he forced me to sit and rest as well.

Zach, Trent, and Wyatt sat at the table next to Grace, Presley, and me, but Wyatt angled himself so we were almost at the same table. It was cute that he wanted to be close but didn’t care if I sat with the girls while we were on a date.

We ended up leaving fifteen minutes ago since it was late and I’m exhausted. Now, I’m standing here in this insane bathroom that I want to live in, and freaking the fuck out.

We’re going to sleep in the same bed.

Sure, one could argue that we’ve done this already, but now he’s my . . . I don’t know . . . boyfriend? We’re dating. We’re exclusively dating. He also understands no kissing and no sex.

I’m stupid.

Time to pull my big girl panties up and climb into bed with a super hot guy who I happen to know is fabulous between the sheets.

Right.

“You comin’ out?” he calls as my hand sits on the doorknob.

Here goes nothing.

I watch as Wyatt’s gaze travels the clothes I’m wearing. His eyes liquefy when he sees my tiny shorts and tank top that leave nothing to the imagination. I didn’t pick this because I wanted to make it harder on either of us. It’s just that this is what I sleep in if I sleep with clothes on. Usually, at some point in the night, I kick all the covers off because I’m roasting, which is why I sleep naked most of the time. I figured that would be bad, so I grabbed the least amount of clothing I had.

It was clearly a bad idea.

He clears his throat. “I’m . . . you’re . . .” He closes his eyes and releases a breath. “Maybe you should buy some pants. And a sweatshirt.”

I shake my head and lift the covers. “I’ll warn you now, I’m a violent sleeper. We didn’t sleep much the last time we were in a bed together, but I get really hot and rip off the blankets. I also don’t like to be touched. Oh, and according to my ex, I kick and knee people.”

“Great.” He laughs. “Should I wear a cup?”

“Possibly.” I climb in with a big smile. “But considering the fact that you knocked me up, I think it’s only fair I get one good knee in.”

He rolls to his side so we’re facing each other. “You want to hurt me?”

“You’re not going to have half the fun that I am during the next six months.”

“Tomorrow you’re twelve weeks, right?” Wyatt asks.

“Yup. Out of the first trimester.”

It’s crazy that I’ve got this tiny person growing inside me. They explained the first twelve weeks were the most crucial. I needed to make sure I took my vitamins and called if there were any issues.

Presley got me the information for the only gynecologist within twenty miles of here. He apparently delivered Wyatt, so I can only imagine how old he is, but I’ll find out in two days when I meet him. Wyatt, apparently, loves Dr. Borek. He said he’s the best doctor around, and I’ll soon see why. This should be fun.

His hand lifts and brushes my hair back. “I know this isn’t what either of us planned, but I hope you know that I’ll always be there for both of you, even if this doesn’t work out.”

I lace my fingers with his, putting our clasped hands between us. “I promise I’ll never be one of those women who keeps him or her from you. I grew up with two parents, but they weren’t like yours. They weren’t always bad. When we were really little, my mom was awesome. We baked cookies, did crafts, and she was really happy. My dad worked a lot, but he came home smiling and played dolls with me. Then my mom got cancer and everything changed.”

“I’m sorry.” Wyatt’s eyes are soft and sincere.

“Don’t be.” I never understood what people were sorry for. It’s not as if they gave her cancer and then cut me out of her life. “She made her choice. Instead of seeing that she had a second chance at life and living it to the fullest, she shut us all out. It was like her life could go at any minute, and instead of holding all of us close, she pushed us away.”

Wyatt squeezes my hand a little. “Still sucks.”

I let out a small laugh. “It does, and she’s no better now. When Todd died, she really gave up on me. However, she’s clung to my brother Josh, since he’s the prodigal son.”

“I didn’t know you had another brother.”

“Josh is . . .” I trail off, trying to think how to explain him. “Difficult.”

Wyatt grins. “I have one of those.”

I wish that Josh were like Trent. As difficult as he seems to be, it’s different. “Not the same. Josh is the biggest snob I’ve ever met. He made a ton of money in his early twenties and let it get to his head. He’s stingy, self-absorbed, and pretentious. He lets everyone know it, too. He’s a pompous prick that I feel no need to be around. I can only imagine what he’s going to say when he finds out I’m pregnant.”

Wyatt’s body tenses, and his face grows hard. “It’s not his place.”

“No.” I close my eyes. “But he’ll still have an opinion.”

One that won’t be good. I’m sure we’ll end up screaming at each other. He’ll call me a whore, or some other awful name, and then inject something about Todd. When Todd died he didn’t even come to the funeral. He stayed in Florida in all his perfection. God forbid he be there for me, Presley, or our parents. It was easier for him to say how Todd made his choice and that he wasn’t going to be inconvenienced because of it. Did I mention he’s a prick?

I’ve never been more disappointed in him than I was in that moment.

“No,” Wyatt says with no room for question. “He won’t.”

It’s sweet that he’s already slightly protective. He’s pretty cute when he’s being all macho. “It’s fine. I’ve learned to ignore whatever comes out of his mouth.”

“Tell me more about your parents,” he urges.

We settle in, and I talk about my mother and going through her treatments. We talk about the fact that I haven’t spoken to her in months and really didn’t notice until now. It’s sad that she wasn’t the first phone call I wanted to make, but I’ve come to accept the relationship she’s capable of having. She may not be the mother I wish I had, but I can’t change her. I can’t force someone to love me the way I want them to. It doesn’t work that way.

Time passes and Wyatt and I keep sharing. Sometimes we talk about our friends, other times our family. My eyes grow tired, and I fight to keep them open.

“Sleep.” His other hand comes to my cheek.

“No,” I say around a yawn, fighting the exhaustion settling over me.

He shifts forward, kisses my forehead, and lies back down. “Good night, Angie.”

“Good night, Wyatt.”