Page 62 of Honest Boys Don’t Play

It’s on the tip of my tongue to lie, because I don’t want her to feel guilty, but I hate not being truthful.

“Yes.”

She frowns and I hate that I’m the reason for that expression on her face. “Was it my sickness or the pregnancy in general or something else?”

This time I do feel embarrassed, because admitting it out loud, I know how ridiculous I’m probably going to sound to her. “No, it’s…” This is the thing I hate the most about my OCD—how much of my rumination is rooted in things that I know logically, are extremely unlikely to happen, but it doesn’t stop my thoughts from spiraling even when I tell myself that.

“Hey,” she says gently, stroking my cheek. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want. It won’t hurt my feelings.”

“No.” I place my hand over hers. “You should know these things.”

“You know how I mentioned to you once that I was worried you’d go into labor and I’d have to deliver the baby?”

She gives a nod in response.

“Well, I ended up taking a class because I just couldn’t let go of the thought of it happening even if it’s extremely unlikely.”

“Are you still worrying about it? Even after the class?”

She has no idea how much it means to me for her to use that word—worrying, instead of obsessing.

“Yes,” I admit. “Though, not as much as I was.”

When I first found out she was pregnant it was damn near consuming.

“That’s good, but I wish you weren’t worrying about it at all.” It surprises me when she climbs fully into my lap. My hands automatically go to her hips, kneading her flesh like my fingers have a mind of their own. “If there’s ever anything I can do to make you feel better, to assure you, to just listen or whatever it is you need, I want you to tell me.” I duck my head and she grips my chin, forcing me to look at her. “I mean it, Luke.”

I wet my lips with my tongue, and her eyes follow the movement. “I’ll be better about sharing it with you.”

She lays her head on my shoulder. “What do you think about Tanner and Kayla?”

I stroke my fingers through her hair. It’s the softest I’ve ever felt. I can’t figure out if it’s something to do with her shampoo, or something else she puts on her hair, or just her.

“I like them,” I say after a long moment. “I wasn’t sure what to expect when we got here, but they both seem nice and their kids are cute. I know this situation can’t be ideal for you. Sure, it’s not like we’re living in their house, but we’re living on strangers’ property.”

She shrugs against me. “They won’t be strangers forever, and … I know it probably sounds crazy, but it makes me feel better to know we’re so close to people who already have kids. Like we have supervisors or something.” She shakes with a soft laugh. “I feel so unprepared for him to come. We haven’t even talked about names.”

My fingers still for a moment before I resume stroking her hair. “Do you want to talk about them now?”

She sits up slightly so she can look at me. “I haven’t even made a list.”

I shrug. “So? We can make one together.”

She bites her lip, seeming to think it over. “Okay.” She scurries off my lap and back to the other side of the striped blue and white couch to grab her phone off the end table.

She crosses her legs as she scrolls through on her phone. “Do you have a notebook?”

“In a box somewhere.”

“Right.” She laughs at herself. “Just use your notes app to keep track of the ones we like.”

Her tongue sticks out slightly as she consults a website she finds. “Adam?”

I shake my head. “It’s not awful, but it doesn’t feel right.”

“Adrien?” She arches a brow, waiting for my reply.

“No.”