He holds out his hand. “Give me your plate. I’ll get you a little of everything.”
“Thank you.” When I don’t actually make a move to give him the plate, he gently takes it out of my hand.
I watch him cut off a piece of every pancake before he puts them all on my plate, followed by an energy ball and an oat cup. He takes an already loaded plate I didn’t notice from the counter and nods toward our two water glasses.
“Want to get the hoodie and our drinks?”
Nodding, I grab the hoodie first and put it on. It engulfs me, almost reaching to my knees. It’s soft and comfortable, and it smells like Ryan. I inhale deeply, enjoying that spicy scent I associate with him now. I’m certain it contains some kind of pheromones. It has to with the way my heart skips a beat every time I smell it.
“Harper, do you need to sit down?”
I jerk my head up and push the hood off my head.
“Uh, no, sorry. All good.” I keep my gaze down, pretending like the water is the most interesting thing as I snatch the glasses.
On the inside, I’m dying. He just watched me smell his clothes. Smell. His. Fucking. Clothes. The heat creeping up my neck and into my cheeks can’t be pretty.
I follow him outside and sit on one of the couches, focusing on my breathing in hopes of calming down my body.
Ryan sits on the other couch and puts my plate on the small table in front of me. Either he can spot my weirdness from a mile away or he’s too hungry to deal with me. Whatever the reason, I’m grateful I have a few minutes to calm down while I definitely will not sniff his clothes in front of him again.
Picking up my plate and fork, I debate on what to try first. Since everything looks delicious, I start with the blueberry pancake. It’s sweet and soft and tastes as yummy as it smells. I try them one by one, each one more heavenly than the previous one.
Ryan chuckles. “Pretty good, huh?”
I smile around a mouthful of lemon Greek yogurt pancake and nod.
Not wanting to speak with a full mouth, I chew first and take a drink. “Soooo good.”
There’s a moment where we just stare at each other without saying anything, and the severity of this moment hits me again. I’m sitting here not only with the guy I had a ridiculously hot night with, but also the man who’s the father of the baby that’s growing inside me. The baby I saw on the ultrasound screen today for the first time, even if it’s still tiny and doesn’t really resemble a baby yet. But it is a baby. My baby . . . our baby.
Ryan could have easily slammed that door in my face the day I stopped by unannounced or demanded a paternity test before even considering the possibility I was telling the truth. Instead, he seemed almost happy to see me, accepted the news as well as he could have, and is now feeding me so he can spend more time with me while I’m here.
Before I leave again.
While I continue to omit part of the truth about me and my dad.
The weight of that has settled heavily in my stomach, but I’m trying to stay hopeful it won’t be very long until I can tell him.
“Are you in pain?”
Ryan’s question startles me out of my thoughts. Am I in pain? Did I seem that miserable thinking about this situation?
“I meant your head.” He points toward his forehead for emphasis. “I can get you an ice pack if you want.”
Oh, great. Now he probably thinks the fall damaged my brain.
I shake my head but quickly think better of it when a dull ache forms at the top of my skull. “I’m good, but thanks.” My gaze drifts to my plate. “Thanks for everything. I really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.” He takes the last bite and puts his empty plate on the table. “So what do you do for work?”
Well, crap on a cracker.
I know it’s a perfectly normal question during the getting-to-know-each-other phase but holy schnitzel.
My plate is suddenly the most interesting thing, and I rub my fingers along the edges of it. “Mmmm, I’m actually in between jobs right now. My company downsized a few months ago, and I haven’t been able to find anything new yet.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”