My heart’s going crazy as I lie back. Kasen moves his chair closer, and I'm hyperaware of every inch of him. The clean scent of his cologne that makes him smell good enough to eat, the barely suppressed nervous energy humming off him, and the heat from his skin seeping into mine even though we’re not touching.
Reed lifts my shirt a little, exposing my still-flat stomach. He tucks a papery towel thing into the top of my jeans and then he squirts some gel on my stomach. It’s so cold, it makes me gasp.
"Sorry," Reed murmurs, as he flicks off the lights and then presses the ultrasound wand against my skin. "I should’ve warned you, the warmer’s broken."
The monitor flickers to life—a swirl of grey and black, and for a while all I see is… nothing? Black and gray and white splotches that mean nothing to me. Then I see something. A tiny baby-shaped blob in the center of a big, black nothing. It’s moving and rolling around and I just… have no words.
"There's your baby," Reed says. His voice is soft and almost as awed as I feel. "Right on track for ten weeks. And that flicker..." He zooms in slightly. "That's the heartbeat. It looks great. Nice and strong."
A rhythmicwhoosh-whoosh-whooshsound fills the small room. It’s so fast. “Is that…?”
“The heartbeat, yes.”
My own heart feels like it’s trying to match the rhythm. That’s...ours. Half me, half Kasen. This infuriating, complicated man beside me. The thought is staggering, and my eyes fill with tears faster than I can blink them away.
"Holy shit," Kasen breathes beside me. He sounds utterly stunned. Wrecked, even. "That little thing... that's really it?"
I risk a look at him. Gone is the grumpy guy who I can’t stand. His face is completely open, stripped bare as he stares at the screen. His eyes are wide and… is that a tear? He’s locked on the image of our baby like it's the only thing in the universe. I've never, ever seen him look like this.
My hand moves before I can talk myself out of it, and I grab his. His fingers immediately crush mine, a grip that's both romantic, and like a drowning man grabbing a life preserver. His hand is warm and calloused and somehow helps the overwhelm.
"The baby’s heart rate is excellent," Reed continues, taking what I’m assuming are measurements. "Development looks right on schedule."
Watching Kasen watch the screen, seeing that unexpected softness on his face... the word forms in my mind before I can stop it.Ours. And suddenly, the decision isn't a decision at all. It's just... fact.
"I'm keeping it," I blurt out, and they both turn to look at me.
Kasen's head snaps toward me, his eyes searching mine. The hope blooming on his face is so intense it's almost painful to see. I sort of hate that it was ever a question, and it feels stupid now as my decision settles into my bones. His voice cracks when he asks, "Are you sure?"
"Yeah." I nod, meeting his stunned gaze. The rapid beat from the monitor seems to underscore the certainty settling in my chest. "Yeah, I'm sure."
Reed’s smiling when he puts the wand-thing away. "Okay, I'll print these out for you both. Give me just a minute." He hands me the tissues for the gel and then he slips out, leaving Kasen and I alone.
Kasen still hasn't let go of my hand. "Pink..." he starts, then stops, just looking at me. He lifts our joined hands slightly, then seems to think better of whatever he was going to do and lets go, running his hand through his hair instead, knocking his beanie off. His hair’s messy and why is that so cute?
"Don't make this weird, Kasen," I warn, needing to regain control of the situation, tugging my hand back to wipe off the gel and pull my shirt down. "This changes things, obviously, but it doesn't magically erase..." Our rivalry. Our history. The fact we barely know each other.
All the things.
"I know," he says quickly. "We'll figure it out." He sounds like he's reassuring himself as much as me.
Reed returns with the printouts and brochures, launching back into doctor mode. He gives me a prescription for vitamins, then tells me it’s important for me to rest, stay hydrated, and the big one: avoid stress.
Pshh. As if.
Like he can read my mind, he says, "Seriously, Wren," looking pointedly from me to Kasen and back again. "Stress impacts fetal development. The first trimester is crucial. Try to keep things as low stress as you can."
I let out a laugh that sounds slightly hysterical. "Excellent advice, Doc. I'll get right on that as soon as I figure out my hopeless housing situation."
Reed frowns. "You're moving?"
"Being evicted," I say. "My building's turning into luxury condos I can’t afford." I shrug, trying to project nonchalance I don't feel. "Welcome to Portland."
"Okay, that's... that's major stress," Reed says carefully, his professional concern kicking up a notch. "Finding housing quickly in this market is practically a full-time job. You really need to avoid that kind of pressure right now."
Before I can tell him I'll handle it, or bite his head off for stating the obvious, Kasen speaks up. "She can stay with me."
I pivot to face him, feeling all kinds of things. So many things I can’t pin them all down. "Are you high?”
