guidance but found myself three seconds behind every time.
“Try yoga, they said. It’s relaxing, they said,” I whispered beneath my breath.
Liza must have had supersonic hearing. “What was that?”
“She was just saying she wishes she didn’t eat those onion rings last night.” Adela made a face, her hands and arms following every move like she was a born yoga Jedi.
I scowled at her, then smiled at Liza as if to say, what can you do?
“You shouldn’t be eating onion rings while you’re pregnant. Deep fried food is not healthy for the baby.”
“Oh, boy,” I sighed out between a small crack in my lips.
Adela snorted.
Rolling up our mats, we tried to contain our laughter. “I don’t even like onion rings.”
“Shut up. It was the first thing I could think of.”
“Onion rings?” She helped me up.
“I’ve wanted some all week. Damn diet.”
I half-rolled my eyes. “As if you need to diet.”
We patted our faces with towels, then headed for the door. “I do with your pregnant ass bringing home all these snacks.”
“I never said you had to eat them, especially when I bought them for myself.”
“I’m not eating them.” I shot her a look, and she waved a hand. “Well, I haven’t this week.”
We stopped at a row of chairs outside, stuffing our things away and grabbing our keys. When I looked up, sipping from my water bottle, a row of pamphlets caught my eye.
My doctor had recommended birthing class, but I hadn’t thought much of it. Mom said she’d never bothered, giving me a spiel about how our bodies had been designed for the task, and that it wasn’t necessary.
I plucked up an information booklet. “Think I should go?”
Adela popped the top on her bottle. “If you want, but if that Liza is running the show, you’re buying me onion rings.”
Smirking, I tucked the booklet inside my purse.
Me: How fancy are we talking here?
I stared at the array of dresses on my bed, waiting for Aiden’s response.
Prince: Go all out, Petal. As long as you’re comfortable.
That was the problem. At almost seven months, I had limited options and even fewer maternity dresses that would be appropriate for fine dining. I blew some curls from my face, then began putting away the dresses that wouldn’t work to narrow it down.
Frustrated, I walked over to the mirror, inspecting the light makeup I’d donned and trying to think.
I was making this into too big of a deal. It was just dinner. We weren’t even together, so why should I care what his dad thought of me?
I groaned, marching back to the bed and collecting my phone.
Me: What are you wearing?
“Fuck it,” I muttered, selecting the dark blue floaty satin dress. I’d just slipped it on, adjusting it over my stomach and fussing with the beaded straps when a text came through.
Prince: Why don’t you open the door and find out.
“Little shit.” But I was smiling and quickly stuffed away the other two dresses before snatching up my purse.
Adela was out, attending a party near campus, so the apartment was uncomfortably quiet as I hobbled down the hall to the front door.
Aiden was wearing a white button-down, and the top buttons were unfastened, granting a glimpse of golden skin. Black slacks sat low on his hips, and his feet were clad in leather.
“Well, now I feel woefully underdressed,” he murmured, and our eyes met.
I tried not to blush but felt heat erupting in my cheeks anyway.
I shifted back, allowing him in. “I was about to say the same thing to you.”
“Sure, you were.” He bopped me under the chin, then bent low, inhaling my hair.
I shoved him, but it was halfhearted at best. “Quit, creeper.”
“Stop being so delicious then.”
It was an odd thing to be turned on, to want a man who wasn’t the father of the baby residing in your body. Odd and conflicting and frustrating.
I shut the door as Aiden meandered into the living room. “Let me grab some shoes.”
In answer, he folded himself onto the couch, flicking on the TV.
I’d barely slipped the black sandals onto my feet when another knock sounded on the door.
“Want me to get it?” Aiden called.
“Please.” I huffed out an annoyed breath, trying to get my swelling foot inside the faux leather straps.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
At the sound of that voice, my hand slipped from the shoe, my foot sliding in as I rose on unsteady legs.
“I could ask the same of you. Kindly fuck off now.” The door slammed, and I didn’t think