Page 63 of Wild Devotion
No more second-guessing. I hit send faster than he’d walked out my door.
The regret drained out of me, replaced by something steadier. Something that felt a hell of a lot like conviction. I was moving forward with my life regardless of Sean’s decisions. Regardless of my mistakes.
I finished my enormous bottle of water and stepped out of my room.
The house was silent around me.
I climbed the stairs to Chantel’s loft, calling out softly before I reached the top. Her bed was rumpled, dirty scrubs on the floor, but the space was empty. She wasn’t there.
Where the hell was she? Did she stay out all night with that man? Had she forgotten about today?
I paced the hallway downstairs, checking my phone for a missed call or text. But there was nothing. My thoughts spiraled with worry for Chantel and tangled with the anxiety clawing at my throat.
“Hey.” Caleb appeared in his doorway, running a hand through his hair. “What time is it?”
Even straight out of bed he was annoyingly attractive. Especially with his bare feet.
Why did I find them so damn sexy?
Moisture collected at my hairline and under my arms. Nerves, hormones, and the memory of waking up in his arms combined to turn me into a flushed, sweating disaster.
“Chantel isn’t here. I’ve got to go. Ultrasound technicians don’t wait around for sweaty pregnant women. I’ll have to take the bus. I’ll have to go alone. On my own.” The words tumbled out in a panicked stream that I couldn’t stop.
“Slow down.” He caught my arm, putting a halt to my frantic pacing. “When do you have to be there?”
“Twenty minutes. Oh God. I’m going to be late, and I really need to pee. They make you drink so much water. It really can’t be healthy.”
“I’ll take you.”
My mouth snapped shut, everything in me going quiet at once. Except my bladder—it was not shutting up any time soon.
“Are you sure? You just woke up.”
“Zadie.” His brilliant blue gaze captured mine. “You’re not taking a bus to your ultrasound. If you’re going to leak urine anywhere, it’ll be in my truck.”
God, this man.
He leaned in and brushed a kiss over my cheek. “Three minutes and I’ll be ready to leave.”
“You better hurry,” I called as he walked back into his room. “If you keep me waiting, you won’t need to worry about your truck’s upholstery. I’ll lose it right here on the hallway floor.”
We made it to the clinic with less than a minute to spare.
The waiting room was quiet, a television playing on mute in the corner while the receptionist spoke in a near whisper. Bellies of various sizes surrounded us, happy, glowing pregnant women with partners who all looked equally delighted.
My lack of a protruding middle made me feel like an impostor. Other than my skinny jeans, which I could no longer zip, I was the only one who’d noticed the change in my body. With clothes on, it was nearly impossible to tell.
But at least I wasn’t alone. Even if Caleb wasn’t the one who’d made this appointment necessary, he’d gotten me here on time. And he was just as attentive as every other man in the room.
Only significantly hotter.
They still made us wait, of course. It was an unspoken rule of health care—no appointment shall ever start on schedule. Each passing minute ratcheted my anxiety higher, my jitters antagonizing my screaming bladder. If it weren’t for the calm man beside me, lending me his steady energy, I’d have been a complete mess.
“Zadie Fisher?” A friendly woman in scrubs called my name.
I stood on shaking legs, my nervous stomach rolling with the movement.
Caleb stood too.
