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If we ever end up finding a place together—which we’ll have to do sooner rather than later if Avery’s pregnant—I’m going to insist on blackout curtains or my own separate bedroom.
There’s no way I can live like this in the long term. Jamie might be a morning person, but I’m decidedly not.
When I sit up, I can see that the only person still asleep is Phillip and that’s because the bastard has buried his head under the pillows.
I’m not actually mad at him. Mostly, I’m just pissed that I hadn't thought to do it myself.
Across the room, I see Avery perched on an ottoman giving Phillip the same look I am.
“How does he do that?” She shakes her head in disbelief.
“It should be considered a crime,” I say with mock solemnity.
We share a laugh that quickly turns into scowls when Phillip doesn’t even stir.
She scrunches her nose. “What a jerk.”
“If you are pregnant, you should make him be the one to get up in the middle of the night with the baby.”
“I think that would be a fitting punishment.” She smiles.
“You’re just jealous,” Phillip mutters from underneath the covers.
“Sleeping Beauty awakens,” I tease.
He chucks a pillow at my head and misses me by a mile.
“That’s not very high society of you. Where’s that debutante training of yours?”
He flashes me a hand signal that’s decidedly ungentlemanly and rolls back over. In seconds, he’s back to snoring.
“Where did Jamie get off to?”
“He left a note on the end table saying something about going for a run and not to worry about him.” She shrugs. “Based on the time he scribbled at the bottom of the note, he left maybe an hour ago. He won’t be gone for too much longer, right?”
“Honestly, I’m surprised he’s not in the master bath already. Usually, he only runs for about forty-five-minutes and then hops in the shower.”
“Maybe he decided to go longer today,” she suggests. “I mean, if he’s feeling anything like I do right now, he’s probably got a truckload of stress to burn off.”
Do the two of them already know? Is that why she’s been sitting here in the corner of the room instead of getting herself breakfast or showering herself? Has she been psyching herself up to tell us?
Anxiety starts slithering around in my body. I can feel it coiling inside me and squeezing my innards.
I search her face for any clue that she already knows, but I can’t pick up on anything more than nerves.
“Did you—” I swallow hard. “Did you take the test already?”
Please say no. I won’t be able to stomach it if you’ve left me out of this.
I try to use one of the breathing techniques I learned during my stint in therapy, but I know I won’t be able to truly settle until I know for sure.
“No, not yet. I wanted to wait until we were all together.”
Just like that, I can breathe again.
“I guess we should try to get Phillip up, then. Jamie’s bound to come back to the bedroom any minute now.”
I swear I must be some type of wizard because as soon as the words are out of my mouth, I hear Jamie’s footsteps in the hallway.
