Page 154 of Blush Crush

There’s nothing I can’t do with Ariana by my side.

CHAPTER 45

Ariana

FAMILY HISTORY

Whose genius idea was it to make doctor’s offices so cold?

I’m also naked under a paper-thin gown so that’s not really helping matters.

It’s our first appointment and to say we’re both nervous would be an understatement. There’s still a small chance I’m not actually pregnant and it’s just a false positive, but after I finally told Cole we bought at least ten pregnancy tests, all different brands and types, and each one came back boldly positive.

I’m lying flat against the exam bed, staring up at the fluorescent lights and Cole’s knee has been bouncing at a beat faster than my heart rate.

But for as anxious as Cole has been about the pregnancy, he’s been very supportive. He’s said more than once he’s just worried about mine and the baby’s health, constantly making sure I’m okay and that all my needs are met. The other day I was craving a smoothie, and I don’t even think it was a pregnancy craving because I doubt I’m very far along for any major symptoms, but he went to three different places and showed up with six smoothies. I couldn’t help but laugh.

I should’ve never doubted him. Because time and time again he proves that he’s fully in this.

We’re only waiting a few minutes when the doctor strolls in. A woman who looks to be around my mom’s age greets us warmly.

“Hi, folks. I’m Doctor Sandy Adair but you can just call me Sandy.” She takes a seat on the short swivel chair. “I’ll be handling the ultrasound today since our technician is out with the flu, so you’re stuck with me for the full experience.” She smiles. “I heard we’re here to check on baby and see how far along you are. Is that correct?”

We both nod and she smiles brightly before reviewing something on her tablet, and then snapping on a pair of gloves. “Any symptoms so far? Nausea, fatigue, tenderness?”

“Tired,” I offer. “But I’m always tired so it’s hard to tell if that’s pregnancy-related or just my life.”

She chuckles at that. “Fair enough. Nausea tends to pick up around weeks six through ten, so if you haven’t been hit with it yet, brace yourself.” She looks between us. “Any questions before we get started?”

I had a ton of questions. All of which have left my mind, so I shake my head and Cole does too. As she situates things, Cole grabs hold of my hand and scoots closer.

“Because you suspect you’re early along,” Sandy starts, “we’ll be doing a transvaginal ultrasound today to get the clearest picture.” She squirts some gel onto the probe. “Just try to relax. It’s not the most comfortable, but I’ll try to be quick.”

Cole’s thumb strokes over my knuckles and I focus on that instead of everything else.

“Okay,” Sandy says, her eyes moving to the monitor. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”

The quiet room fills suddenly with a rapid, rhythmic whooshing as she works, her gaze tracking the screen with narrowed focus.

It’s the heartbeat.

And the sound of it sends my own heart lurching, a riot of emotions singing through me all at once. This baby is very real. The heartbeat is strong and insistent, unmistakable proof that there is a life growing inside me. Half me and half Cole, and I’m already more in love with this little person than I thought possible.

Cole’s eyes are glued to the screen, staring intensely at the shadowed image, ears trained on the speakers, lips parted in awe. He scrubs a hand down his face, making way for a smile of utter wonder to lift on his lips. “Holy shit,” he whispers. “That’s a real baby.”

A garbled laugh tumbles out of me so fast I manage to startle myself. “Yeah,” I laugh through a sob. “Our baby.”

“Okay,” Sandy drawls after a moment, in a tone that makes my pulse spike. “I’m going to take a closer look at something.”

I feel Cole stiffen beside me. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything looks very healthy,” she assures us, and I release a breath, giving Cole’s hand a squeeze. “I just want to confirm what I’m seeing before I say anything.” She adjusts slightly, tilting the screen toward us. “There.” She points. “Are you both seeing what I’m seeing?”

We both squint at the monitor then turn to each other, still not sure what we’re meant to be looking at. Just gray shapes and shadows, shifting as she adjusts.

“See here and here?” She points to the screen, at two specks that could easily be mistaken for smudges on the display. “There are two sacs, meaning two babies. You’re expecting twins. And if you listen closely, you’ll hear not just one, but two very strongheartbeats.” She sits back slightly. “Based on measurements I’d estimate you’re right around eight weeks along.”

“Twins?” I echo, somewhat stunned.