Page 184 of Buy Back My Love

“This is your version of calming me down?” I asked when we pulled up.

Van got out and came around to grab our bags. “You're complaining already?”

“I’m asking.”

“You haven’t even made it inside.”

“I like to know what I’m getting into.”

“You’re getting into a hotel.”

“Smart-ass.”

He laughed and kept walking. Apparently, he had planned the whole weekend without telling me. I had a prenatal massage scheduled for the afternoon, dinner reservations that evening, and nothing else on the agenda besides eating and relaxing. I could do that. Especially the eating part.

When I made it back to our room after the massage, I felt lighter than I had in weeks. Not physically, because Myles was still sitting on my bladder like he paid rent, but everything else had loosened up. My back didn’t hurt as bad, my shoulders weren’t tight, and even my head felt quieter.

I opened the door and found Van stretched across one of the two queen beds watching TV. I had noticed the two-bed situation when we checked in but hadn’t said anything about it.

I dropped my purse onto the chair. “Why you get two beds?”

Van glanced over. “Because it’s two of us.”

“We could’ve shared.”

He sat up. “I know.”

“So?”

“You're pregnant and uncomfortable half the time. Figured you and Myles might want your own space. And I didn’t want to assume you were cool sharing a bed with me.”

I looked at him. That was annoyingly thoughtful.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Thank you.”

“Damn. Massage must’ve worked. You didn’t argue with me.”

“Don’t ruin it.”

He laughed and went back to the TV. Truthfully, I appreciated the separate bed. My body had reached that big, uncomfortable stage where rolling over required preparation. I slept with enough pillows to build a damn fort, got up to pee every five minutes, and half the time Myles decided nighttime was when he wanted to practice karate.

Me and Van still hadn’t actually had sex. He had eaten my pussy more than once, but we hadn’t crossed that line yet. And at this point in my pregnancy, sex wasn’t exactly high on my list anyway. If we did finally do it, I was pretty sure my only option was lying on my side and letting him figure the rest out because I didn’t even have enough energy to be scooting back on the dick.

So yeah, separate beds were probably smart. That didn’t stop me from staring at the print in his gray joggers. Van had gotten up to find something in his bag, and unfortunately those pants weren’t hiding much. I watched him longer than I should have before the question came out.

“Can I see your dick?”

Van stopped moving and slowly looked over at me. “What?”

“I wanna see it.”

He stared at me like the massage therapist had dropped me on my head. “Girl, no.”

I frowned. “Why not?”