Chapter 24
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Staring at my reflection in the mirror on the back of my door, I grumble before tugging off the way-too-tight blouse clinging to my body.
A blouse that fit great a couple of weeks ago, but now I look like a busted can of biscuits.
This is the third outfit I’ve tried on today, and none of them look right, so now I’m sweaty, out of breath, frustrated, and have nothing to fucking wear.
Cool.
It’s like my belly grew twice its size overnight.
At this rate, I’m going to be wearing an old pair of sweats and a t-shirt tonight.
Frustration wells up in my chest as I sit on the edge of my bed.
Pressure builds behind my eyes, my throat tight, and I want to scream.
This is ridiculous. I’m about to cry, and for what? Because my clothes don’t fit?
Yeah, Charley, you’re fucking pregnant. Of course they don’t fit.
Why am I going to cry about that?
My body is changing so fast, I have no control over any of it, and sometimes I don’t know how to deal with it.
I look in the mirror and barely recognize the woman staring back at me.
Body issues have never been something I’ve dealt with, but I’ve also always been small—I’m barely five-foot-three—so everything looks disproportionate in my eyes.
Too round, too wide, and I swear my feet have gotten bigger. I didn’t even know that was a thing.
How do people enjoy pregnancy?
I allow myself a moment to feel sorry for myself before an idea comes to me.
Reaching into my closet, I grab the white bodycon dress I bought earlier this week, and I pair it with a jean jacket.
My stomach twists as I get dressed and walk over to the mirror.
I’m almost positive it’s going to look awful on me, like everything else I’ve tried today… But it doesn’t look awful at all.
In fact, I look pretty damn good. My large-and-in-charge bump actually looks so cute in the form-fitting dress.
This is the outfit.
After I slip my feet into my favorite pair of Nike’s, I pad down the hall toward the living room when I spot Graham’s truck pull in the driveway.
Butterflies fill my stomach, and my heart races.
He just dropped Ellie Mae off at his dad’s because tonight we’re going on a date.
That feels silly, since we live together and see each other every day, but Graham thought it would be fun to go out, just the two of us, in a more romantic setting since we decided to give us a try.
And I do agree… It’ll be fun, but I’m also so incredibly nervous.
I don’t even really know what I’m so nervous about.
This is Graham; we’ve grown up around each other, we have history, and I’m pregnant with his child, and despite all that, the idea of going out on a real date with him makes it hard to breathe.
This is just so…different. It feels way more serious and real than anything we’ve done before.
Graham and I spent many nights together in that field, but this…
It’s intentional.
It’s our feelings laid out in front of us. There’s no hiding from them, or purposely choosing to not talk about them.
It’s a big freaking deal.
In an effort to appear like I’m not anxious as all hell, I meander into the kitchen and grab a cheese stick from the fridge while I wait for Graham to walk through the front door.
I’m hungry, but I don’t want to eat too much because I’m sure part of our date includes dinner.
Graham has a whole night planned that he hasn’t shared with me, and I’m going out of my mind with wonder.
Normally, I don’t like surprises, but it’s kind of fun going into this not knowing anything.
When the front door opens, my gaze darts in that direction, and my breath catches.
I was in the shower when they left, so I didn’t get to see what he was wearing, and wow…
Graham cleans up nice. The lilac, short-sleeve, knit, button-down Polo compliments his tan skin and his tattoos, and he’s got on a pair of white Chinos that I don’t think I’ve ever seen him wear before.
They come to right above his ankles and fit like they were made for him and him alone.
With a beautiful bouquet of sunflowers in hand, Graham’s face lights up as our eyes meet across the house.
A smile spreads across my face, my cheeks heating, as he runs his gaze over the length of my body. “Hey,” I murmur softly.
“Hey, Sunny.” My stomach flutters as he approaches, and when I catch a whiff of his cologne, and he presses a kiss to my lips, my heart nearly bursts out of my chest. Giving me another shameless once-over, his mouth ticks up on one side as he adds, “My god, look at you… You’re beautiful.”
“Thank you. You’re looking pretty good yourself.” I smirk. “Pretty flowers you got there,” I murmur, tipping my chin toward the flowers in his hand.
Holding them up, Graham says, “Pretty flowers for a pretty girl.”
The flush in my cheeks spreads to my ears and down my neck as the butterflies in my stomach double in size. “What’s the plan for tonight?”
A smirk curves his lips as he hooks his arm around my waist, pulling me into him. “You’ll see,” he drawls. “Ready to go?”
I nod, nearly bouncing on my toes. “Yeah, let me grab my things.”
“Mini putt, huh?” I drawl as we make our way onto the nine-hole miniature golf course. “So, what you’re saying is, you want to get your ass kicked by me tonight?”
Graham chuckles, turning his head to meet my gaze. “Don’t you mean I will be kicking your ass?”
“Ha! We’ll see about that.” Playfully shoving him on the arm, I add, “I was the putt-putt queen in college, and twenty-seven weeks pregnant or not, I’ve still got it.”
“Alright, Sunny.”
I wrinkle my nose and bite back a smile as we walk through the building toward our first hole. “This place is cool. I didn’t even know this was here.”
“Yeah, it just opened last month, I think.”
When Graham drove us here, I had no idea what to expect.
It’s located right outside of town, and I’m not too familiar with anything in this area.
It’s all indoors, which is nice, considering playing mini golf in the hot South Carolina heat while nearly in my third trimester sounds terrible.
There’s music playing, the whole place lit with black lights, and there are tons of animatronic monsters all over the place.
It’s cooler than any mini putt I’ve been to before.
Graham takes the first shot, and I can tell he thinks he’s got it in the bag based on the smirk he flashes me before I go.
“Oh, would you look at that,” I drawl. “Mine just got a littttle closer now, didn’t it?”
“Beginner’s luck,” he replies, a twitch to the corner of his mouth.
“Mmhmm, right. We’ll go with that.”
It’s a Saturday night, and it doesn’t take long for the place to get packed. We make our way around the course, and the score is close the whole time, but I’m pretty sure I’ve got it in the bag.
“Damn, how did I not know you were so competitive?” Graham asks with a laugh about three quarters of the way through.
“Well, probably because we’ve never really played any games together.”
“That’s wild to think about,” he murmurs, glancing over at me. “That we’ve known each other as long as we have, yet we’ve never done something as simple as play a board game or go bowling.”
“Okay, well, you’d probably beat me in bowling, easily.” I giggle before taking the next shot at our next hole.
Graham snorts. “Do you remember when my parents were on a bowling league when we were kids?”
Chuckling, I nod. “Yes, and I’d come along with y’all to the alley every weekend. Your sisters and I would spend every last bit of our allowances on those sticker machines and candy from the vending machine while you spent the entire time in the arcade.”
“Yeah, that was such a fun time,” he says. “But so random. I don’t recall my parents ever going bowling before they joined that league, and they were on it for what? Like, six months? Then never played again.”
“Your dad did the same thing with fishing a few years later, remember?”
“Oh my god, how could I forget?” He snorts. “That was right after my parents split up too. He would drag me down to that fishing hole every single weekend, and we’d sit there all damn day. I hated it.”
“Really?” Laughter bubbles out of me. “I liked going with him. I remember him letting me tag along with him one morning; I think it was the summer before I went into eighth grade. It was just the two of us because you were…somewhere, I’m not sure where, and none of your sisters wanted to come, but my parents had a huge, explosive fight the night before, and I just didn’t want to be home with them. ”
“I remember that,” Graham says. “I’d spent the night at one of my buddy’s houses.”
The memory brings a smile to my face. “That man is a saint for listening to me yap all day long. I don’t think he caught a damn thing, and I ate all the snacks he brought and complained about the music he insisted on listening to, but he never said a word about it.”
“He loves you, Sunny.” Walking over to me, Graham frames my cheek with his hand, the touch gentle. “We’ve all always loved you.”
A shiver races down my spine at that last sentence.
I know he means it innocently, but it makes my throat tight anyway.
When he presses his lips to mine, I breathe in the smell of him.
It’s different…being affectionate with him out in public.
The history we do have has always been so hush-hush, but I can’t deny how much I enjoy being able to kiss him like this.
Playing the last few holes, the game gets even tighter, and for a moment, I think Graham might actually beat me, but I should’ve known better. Sinking the final ball, we add up our scores, and I squeal when we figure out that I won. “It’s okay, you didn’t stand a chance against me,” I tease.
Graham scowls, watching me through a narrowed gaze, but I don’t miss the hint of a smile trying to break free. “Maybe I let you win.”