33. Lee
Lee
The closer I got to my due date, the more nervous I got.
Everybody kept telling me I was almost there like that was supposed to make me feel better.
It didn’t. Every week Myles got bigger, my stomach got heavier, and I got closer to doing the one thing I had spent years trying not to think too hard about.
Giving birth again.
I had started dreaming about Junior too, and they weren’t good dreams. I kept ending up back in that hospital room with somebody telling me they couldn’t find his heartbeat.
Sometimes it was the same doctor. Sometimes it was somebody I had never seen before.
The details changed, but every dream ended the same way, with my baby gone.
Then I would wake up with my heart beating out my chest and both hands on my stomach, waiting for Myles to move. The worst night, I actually poked at him until he kicked me.
“Sorry,” I whispered when he finally moved. “Mama just checking.”
I knew Myles was fine. Every appointment said he was fine, he moved enough to make me wonder when the hell he slept, and my doctor hadn’t given me any reason to think something was wrong. None of that did much for the fear. Junior had been fine too, until he wasn’t.
I finally told Van after he caught me staring at my stomach one evening and asked why I had been so quiet.
At first I told him I was good, but he just looked at me until I finally told him the truth.
A few days later, he called and asked if I had plans for the weekend.
That was how I ended up at the Grand Hotel in Point Clear.
“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?”
“Because.”
“That ain’t fair.”
“What’s not fair?”
“You done dug around in my pussy more than my OB at this point, and I can’t even see your dick?”
Van stared at me for a second before he started laughing.
“I’m serious.”
“I know. That’s the problem.”
“What do you think I’m gonna do?”
His eyebrows went up. “You really asking me that?”
“I just wanna look.”
“What do you wanna see it for?”
Because besides porn, JB was the only man I had ever seen naked like that, and I damn sure wasn’t telling Van that.
“I just wanna see it.”
He shook his head and went back to his bag. “We’re not kids, Lee. I’m not doing no you-show-me-yours-I-show-you-mine shit. If I pull it out, I’m gonna wanna use it.”
“You boring.”
“Whatever. You need to start getting ready anyway. Reservations at seven.”
I folded my arms, irritated for a reason I couldn’t even explain.
“Fix your face,” he said.
I flipped him off, grabbed my phone, and started scrolling.
“Lee.”
I ignored him.
“Go get ready for dinner.”
“I ain’t hungry.” That was a lie. I was always hungry, and Van knew it too.
He got quiet while I kept scrolling like I had suddenly become deeply interested in whatever was on my screen. A few seconds later, the mattress dipped and my phone disappeared right out of my hand.
“Van!” I looked up and found him standing over me. “What the hell?”
“Here.”
Before I could figure out what he was doing, he pushed his joggers down just enough. My mouth closed because, well, I had asked. Van stood there completely straight-faced while my brain tried to catch up.
“There’s my dick, crybaby. Happy?”
I couldn’t answer immediately. The first thing that got me was that he wasn’t even hard.
Even soft, he was longer and thicker than I had expected.
JB wasn’t little by any stretch of the imagination, but usually when he was around this size, he was already hard.
That realization gave me exactly the opposite reaction it probably should have.
Instead of scaring me away, it made me curious.
Van caught me staring. “You done?”
“No.”
He laughed. “Lee.”
I reached out, and his whole demeanor changed the second my hand wrapped around him.
“Don’t start no shit you're not finishing.”
“I’m just looking.”
“You’re looking with your hands now?”
“Apparently.” I moved my hand slowly, more curious than anything at first, and Van exhaled through his nose.
“Lee, don’t tease me, man.”
I looked up at him. “When the last time you had sex?”
That caught him off guard, but he thought about it. “Sometime before Christmas.”
My hand slowed. Before Christmas meant me and Van weren’t together then. Hell, we still weren’t officially together now, so he hadn’t done anything wrong. That didn’t mean I liked picturing it.
“Who?”
Van looked down at me. “You’re asking too many questions.”
“I’m just asking.”
“Nah. You’re being nosy.”
I kept my hand moving.
“When the last time you got tested?”
“March.” That answer came fast.
“You clean?”
“Yeah.”
By then he was fully hard, and one look at what I had in my hand made me understand exactly why he hadn’t wanted to play show-and-tell. He had been hiding a lot under those joggers.
I swallowed. “Can I trust you?”
Van’s eyes came up to mine. “Always.”
He didn’t joke or come back with something smart. He just looked at me and waited while I decided what I wanted to do next.
Van laughed under his breath. “You’re looking scared now.”
“I am not scared.”
“Mhm.”
I looked down again and had to admit, okay, maybe I was a little scared. But curiosity had gotten me this far, and apparently pregnancy hadn’t done a damn thing for my decision-making skills. I moved toward the edge of the bed, and Van rested a hand lightly against the back of my neck.
“Lee.”
I looked up.
“You sure?”
I nodded.
“Aight.”
I shifted to the edge of the mattress and lowered myself between his feet. The TV played low behind us, but I wasn’t paying attention to it anymore. Van kept one hand near the back of my neck while I wrapped both hands around him. He hissed through his teeth when I stroked him.
“Lee, quit playing.”
I looked up. “Who playing?”
I leaned in and took him into my mouth, and the breath Van pulled in above me told me I had finally shut his ass up. It lasted about two seconds before his hand slid into my hair, not rough, but firm enough that I felt the difference immediately.
“Slow down,” he said.
I looked up at him, and that was my mistake. Van’s eyes stayed on mine while I did what he said.
“Yeah. Like that.” His fingers tightened slightly in my hair. “Keep looking at me.”
I tried, even when my eyes started watering and I had to pull back for a second to catch my breath.
Van loosened his grip on my hair. “You good?”
I nodded.
“Tell me.”
“I’m good.”
A little smile touched his mouth. “Aight.”
See, this was the shit he didn’t advertise. Walking around all laid-back and normal when apparently there was a whole other Van underneath that shit.
I went back to what I was doing, and his hand settled in my hair again.
“Pretty as hell,” he murmured.
I glanced up at him.
“Yeah, you.” His voice stayed low. “Quit looking surprised.”
That did something to me I absolutely did not need happening while I was on my knees.
Van caught it too. “You like when I talk to you like that?”
I couldn’t exactly answer with my mouth busy.
He gave a quiet laugh. “Thought so.”
His hand tightened just enough to guide me, and I followed him.
“Right there,” he said. “That’s what I want.”
The low sound he made above me had me doing it again, and this time his head tipped back before his eyes came right back to mine.
“Mm-hmm. Don’t stop.”
So this motherfucker had been holding out on me. His breathing got heavier, and after a while the hand in my hair wasn’t quite as relaxed anymore.
“Lee.” His voice came out rougher this time, and the hand in my hair tightened. “I’m about to nut.”
I didn’t stop.
Van sucked in a sharp breath, his head tipping back as his whole body tensed above me. A low groan slipped out of him, and for a few seconds, that calm shit he’d been holding onto disappeared completely.
“Fuck, Lee.”
I kept going when he came, swallowing instead of pulling away. His thighs tightened, and he stayed frozen there for a few seconds, breathing hard while I finished what I had started.
When I finally pulled back, Van looked down at me like he needed a minute to remember where the hell we were.
I wiped my mouth. “Reservations still at seven?”
He was still trying to catch his breath. “And you had the nerve to ask me why I didn't wanna pull it out.”
I smiled. “I was curious.”
“Nah.” He shook his head. “You were looking for trouble.”
An hour later, we were fifteen minutes late to our dinner reservation. I blamed Van, because I damn sure wasn’t taking responsibility for it.
Dinner itself was nice enough that I almost forgot how annoyed I had been with him earlier. By the time dessert came out, I was full, Myles had finally stopped kicking me in the ribs, and I was ready to go back upstairs and take my bra off.
The server set a big white plate in front of me with a warm brownie and a scoop of strawberry ice cream melting over the top. Strawberry sauce was drizzled around it, but that wasn’t what had me staring.
Written across the plate in chocolate was:
WILL YOU BE MY GIRLFRIEND?
A big, stupid smile took over my face before I could stop it.
I looked across the table at Van. “Damn. My head game must be top tier.”
He dropped his head and started laughing. “It is, but don’t get it twisted. I had this planned before the head.”
“That’s what they all say.”
“Lee.”
I was still smiling when I looked back down at the plate, but after a second the joke wore off. He was really asking me to be his girlfriend.
“You sure?”
Van looked at me. “About what?”
“Me.”
His eyebrows pulled together.
“I’m about to have a newborn, Van. Like soon.” I rubbed my stomach. “You sure you want all that as your girlfriend?”
“Yes.”
“I got a record.”
“I know.”
“My baby daddy is a whole headache.”
“I definitely know.”
“I’m serious. You could probably do a lot better than...”
“Stop.”
I looked at him.
Van leaned back in his chair. “I know what comes with you, Lee. I know about Myles. I know about JB. I know your record. None of that is new information.”
I stayed quiet.
“I love you. I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t sure.”
My eyes started burning almost immediately. “Damn it.”
Van laughed. “Why you crying?”
“Because you saying nice stuff and I’m pregnant. Leave me alone.”
He scooted his chair closer and kissed me before I could wipe my face properly.
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you too.”
His hand settled over my stomach. “And I love my godson too. I already know y’all a package deal.”
Myles moved under his palm, and Van smiled.
I looked at the plate again, then back at him. “So I guess I gotta say yes?”
“You don’t have to do anything.”
“You already bought dessert and everything.”
“It came with dinner.”
“Cheap.”
Van laughed. “Lee.”
I leaned over and kissed him. “Yes. I’ll be your girlfriend.”
“There we go.”
“And don’t start acting different now.”
“I wasn’t planning on it.”
“Good.”
His thumb rubbed over the side of my stomach while I finally picked up my spoon and dug into the brownie.
A minute later, I looked over at him. “So when we get back upstairs, we doing sixty-nine.”
Van nearly choked on his drink while I smiled and took another bite of ice cream.
“You just became my girlfriend five minutes ago and already acting up.”
“I was acting up before I was your girlfriend. You knew what you signed up for.”
He laughed and shook his head. “Yeah, yeah.”
Apparently, I came to Point Clear for a prenatal massage and ended up leaving with a boyfriend.
I could work with that.