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Touch her.
“Yeah?” I asked, throat closing up. I wanted to fall to my fucking knees and press my forehead to that impossible little bump holding that impossible little person. But I couldn’t.
I’d wreck everything.
She reached for my hand, and I pulled away before she could grab my wrist. The self-preservation was so strong, my muscles reacted before I could hardly take a breath to think about the ramifications.
Poppy’s face showed a momentary shock, but she recovered well. “I shouldn’t have assumed…”
My jaw was clenched so tight, it was hard to breathe. “It’s fine, I just—I…”
How was I supposed to tell her any of this in a way that made sense?
I could hardly make sense of what I was thinking and how to walk through this, keeping our tentative, delicate friendship intact.
The one thing she told me she needed was that.
“Well, I have a feeling whenever you are ready … they’ll only get more active. It’s still new to feel it this hard.” Poppy pressed her hand on her belly again, lips curling in a secret little smile. “Maybe you wouldn’t have even felt it yet. The other day, I tried with my mom, but she couldn’t feel anything.”
I managed a short nod, cursing the spiderweb of emotions tangling up my chest.
“It’s the size of a pear,” she said.
“What?”
She held her hands out, cupping her palms together to create a reference point. “About five inches long. The baby is the size of a pear. Isn’t that crazy?”
Staring down at Poppy’s hands, I felt my heart turn over slowly. So small. Too small.
Where would they sleep?
What would they look like?
How was I supposed to help with something that tiny and breakable and important? I didn’t know anything.
Do something.
Go and do something.
God, I hope they looked like her.
Poppy’s phone rang, and she glanced at the screen. “Shoot, it’s my mom. I told her I’d pick up some dinner while I was downtown.” Her smile was sweet and a little mischievous. “It’s really just because I was craving a burger from the pub.”
“Cheeseburger with mayo, ketchup, and lettuce?” I said.
Fuck. Ing. Hell.
Her lips fell open on a gentle O, snapping shut in the next instant, and I cursed my fucking mouth. “Yeah,” she said slowly. “Am I that predictable?”
Admissions stuck fast at the back of my tongue, and I pushed them back down where they belonged. “You better go get your food,” I told her gently. “I have some work to do tonight.”
Eyes curious, Poppy nodded. She paused by the car door, mouth open to say something, when Rob and Dipshit came around to the front of the house, laughing loudly. Ian was afew steps behind. She closed her eyes on a quiet laugh. “Never mind.”
“It’ll keep,” I told her.
Poppy’s gaze was so direct. How had I ever hidden from this woman?
“Can we talk soon?” she asked. “Maybe … maybe more than a random run-in or a family dinner where fifty people watch our every move.”
