I shouldn’t have expected anything else from them. I know how wonderful they all are.
Hence why the distance is necessary.
We all signed a piece of paper saying we were not going to fall in love. I know I’m already cruising toward crushing that rule to smithereens.
This was complicated enough before, but now a baby is being added to the mix. I can’t add the further complication of love to everything.
Not for myself. Not for the guys. And definitely not for the baby.
If things don't work out, I can only imagine the rift that would cause. I might not have this little one in my arms yet, but I need to start protecting them already—and keeping these men firmly in the friend zone is the best way to do that.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Sienna
A partof me thought the doctor was going to tell me I was crazy, that I wasn’t actually pregnant. Apparently, I’m not crazy, though, because right there on the screen is a little blob that the ultrasound tech told me is the baby.
It might look more like a little gummy bear right now, but it’s there. It’s really there.
The tech focuses on the fluttering spot in the middle of the gummy bear. A rhythmic thumping sounds through the room.
“That’s your little one’s heartbeat,” the lady says with a warm smile.
Tears spring to my eyes.Holy crap.
“Strong and healthy,” she adds.
I’m actually pregnant. I’m going to be a mom.
I have no idea why it’s fully hitting me now. I mean, I knew I was pregnant, but there’s something about seeing it with your own two eyes that brings it into stark reality.
With the black and white pictures in hand, I make my way to my car.
The guys offered multiple times to come with me to the appointment, but I was adamant about doing this on my own. None of them were very happy about it, especially Grayson.
I almost expected him to show up here, even when I asked him not to.
I’m not trying to keep them away from anything related to the baby. I just don’tneedanyone here with me for this. I cando all of this on my own.
I sigh, climbing into my car. I know I need to talk to the guys and tell them about the appointment, but right now there’s only one place I want to go.
“Gram, it’s me,” I call out as I walk into her living room.
I don’t think I’ve ever knocked on her door when I’ve come over. If I did, she would just roll her eyes and holler about making her come to the door.
I generally have no idea what I’m walking into because my grandma is as unpredictable as they come. I shake my head, remembering last year when I walked in on her trying to follow along with a twerking tutorial on YouTube.
“In the kitchen,” she yells.
Walking through the small house, I find her standing at the counter, kneading some dough.
I’m pretty sure this woman is where my love for bread came from. I honestly don’t know if she’s ever bought a loaf of bread from the grocery store.
I can’t even fathom how many times I’ve watched or helped her make some type of bread.
I plop down in one of her kitchen chairs, not in the headspace to help her right now.
“What’s on your mind?” she asks.
