I step forward an inch more and peek through the crack. There he is, phone to his ear, profile to me. He’s starting to get the slightest five o’clock shadow, and his mussed brown hair looks as rebellious as his attitude. I’m not afforded many moments like this where he looks away, giving me enough time to examine him without repercussions, so I seize the opportunity to catalogue each of his features. His soft blue cotton t-shirt pulls, hugs, and kisses his upper body like it wants to have his babies. His facial features are symmetrical and sharp, perfection chiseled out of a rare, smooth stone, contrasted beautifully by his full, soft lips. But it’s his dark blue eyes that are the real killers. They’ll pull you in and knock you out in a flash if you’re not careful.
But I hate him, so it’s fine, and I barely even notice his attractiveness.
“You did great just now. How was your pain during that contraction on a scale of one to ten?” There’s a brief pause while he listens to whoever is on the other end of the line. “Okay. Well, I tell you what. I’m going to hang out on the phone with you until the next one starts so we can time it together, and then if—” Another pause. “No, don’t apologize. It’s okay to cry. You went into labor with your first child while your husband is out of town. That’s a lot to deal with, and if I were in your position, I would have already gone through a whole Kleenex box.” He chuckles, and for some reason, I find myself smiling too. I almost don’t recognize this side of Drew. He’s…tender.
Suddenly, I can’t stand here and listen any longer. I need to get far away from this version of him. I skip the bathroom and go right back to my place on the floor beside Levi, absentmindedly picking up a dinosaur tail and trying to shove it into the spot where its head should go. Levi notices and silently takes the puzzle piece out of my hand then replaces it with the right one. What a kid. I think this is his way of apologizing for waking me up at the butt crack of dawn every day.
After a minute, Drew comes back into the living room. I peek at him from the corner of my eye and watch him stuff his phone in the back pocket of his dark jeans.
“Everything okay?” Lucy asks him.
He nods and lets out a deep breath. “Yeah. I just might have to go into the hospital later tonight depending on how one of my patients progresses over the next hour.” Drew’s eyes lock with mine, and I hate that I’ve heard how tender he can be. I suddenly blush under his attention, which is so ridiculous I want to kick myself.
Drew crosses the room and sits down in the armchair directly behind me. He does it on purpose; I know it. There are plenty of other seating options in the room, but he chose the one hovering over my shoulder so he could breathe down my neck and rattle me.
Well, no rattling here, buddy. I’m easy as Sunday morning.
“Get your knee away from my back!” I snap over my shoulder. Okay, maybe not so much Sunday morning as Monday evening, stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic.
“Why? Is it bothering you, Jessica?” He doesn’t move his knee. He presses it more firmly against my shoulder blade. Not painfully, just with the purpose of reminding me that he’s there. And just like that, the familiar Drew is back, and I hate him all over again.
“I mean it. Stop touching me.” My words are sharp little razors.
“I’m not touching you. You’re touching me. I’d appreciate it if you’d remove your back from my knee.”
I whip my head around to pierce him with my eyes. “I was here first!”
He shrugs. “Well, I’m here now.”
“Children, please,” Cooper says, interjecting with a smile and a hand gesture toward Levi. “If you want to stay with us grown-ups, you’ll have to behave.”
“I have no problems with that,” I say, itching the back of my head with my middle finger.
Drew leans closer, and his breath tickles my ear. “Real mature.”
“Get a mint.” For the record, though, he doesn’t need one. I think he must have chewed gum after dinner. Spearmint. I bite my lip, because it’s not fair. I know my breath smells like garlic-pizza-death while he’s a walking Winterfresh commercial. If he smiles and exhales, I’m sure a blast of icy-cool air will rush out in a puff. I want to drag it all into my lungs, but I force myself to take shallow, barely-life-sustaining breaths instead.
“I’m going to have to separate you two, aren’t I?” Lucy is giving us both the mom eyes. Will they teach me that look in the hospital once I deliver?
Drew sits back in his seat, and neither of us says a thing. We’re both being so immature, but I don’t care. Drew makes me do irrational things, and apparently, I have the same effect on him.
Our war of silence (less impressively known as quiet mouse) begins as Cooper tells Levi it’s time for bed and to give us all hugs. There’s a brief reprieve in hostility as the pudgy little dumpling wraps his arms around my neck and sparks my growing motherly instinct to cherish this hug forever. He then moves toward Drew, who reaches out quick as a snake and drags Levi up into his lap to tickle his nephew into oblivion. Levi squeals with laughter and Drew’s ferocious smile splinters my heart into pieces for two unbearable seconds. Then Cooper and Levi disappear down the hallway, and it’s just me, Drew, and Lucy again—immersed in stone-cold silence. I swivel around so I’m sitting adjacent to Drew and he can’t touch me anymore.
Lucy’s tender heart can’t stand this, so she groans loudly and sits forward on the couch. “Good grief. You two need to get over all this insanity. You’re both adults acting like two-year-olds. Does that not bother you guys at all?”
I don’t know, does it, Andrew? I blink, suck my cheeks in, and keep my laser beams focused on him. His blue eyes sparkle as he tips a brow that says, You wanna answer that, Jessica?
So neither of us speak, and Lucy pulls out the big guns. “Fine. Then, Drew, maybe Jessie would like to know all about how you need a fake—”
“Don’t!” Drew breaks first, jutting his finger out to point at his sister.
I shift my shoulders so I’m sitting up nice and tall now while aiming a delighted smile at Drew. “What is this interesting news you’re keeping from me, Andy?” Ooo he must really hate that name because his jaw flexes. I file that away under IMPORTANT.
“It’s nothing.” His voice is hard as granite.
Lucy shifts a little more toward the edge of her seat with a sigh. “And maybe you, Jessie, would like to tell Drew that you’re miserable here and would like to stay in his—”
“LA LA LA—nothing! Jessie would like nothing,” I say quickly, and Drew smirks.