Page 62 of Good For Me

She gives me a sheepish smile. “Am I being that obvious?”

“You look like your puppy died every time you touch your glass.”

“Well, come on!” she says, glaring at the water glass like it’s done her bodily harm. “You need beer with a cheeseburger.” She closes her eyes, voice full of longing. “Actually, no. You know what I really want right now?”

“A Drunken Unicorn?”

Her eyes slam open, locking on mine. I’d been expecting to get a laugh out of her, but instead I see her cheeks flush. Maybe she’s thinking about what that monstrosity of a drink led to. I sure as hell am now.

She clears her throat, as if to dispel the sexual tension. “I want a soda,” she says. “A tall glass of sugary, fizzy Coke. With crushed up ice.” She moans again, the sound not helping my current situation. “That sounds amazing.”

“You can’t have Coke?”

She shakes her head sadly. “Caffeine.”

“What about Sprite or something?”

She recoils. “I can’t handle anything remotely citrusy anymore. Sprite and orange juice are the only thing I can tolerate when I have morning sickness so now that’s what I associate citrus with. Turns my stomach.” She sighs. “Being knocked up makes everything so lame.”

I bite back a laugh at the forlorn expression on her face, then jump up from my seat. “Hang on,” I tell her. “I’ll find something.”

“River, it’s fine. I’m just being a baby. You don’t have to—”

But I’m already half way to the bar. I nod at Antonio, a bartender who’s worked here for years. “You mind if I make something?”

He shrugs, busy filling pint glasses for a table out on the patio. “If you use the blender, you better clean it up.”

I consider the blender for a minute. A strawberry daiquiri or pina colada would be easy enough to make non-alcoholic. But she specifically said she wanted something fizzy. I grin as it comes to me, and grab two clean glasses from the shelf.

A few minutes later I slide back into the booth, two pastel pink drinks in my hand. “Try that.”

She eyes it warily. “It looks like cotton candy.”

I laugh. “Trust me.”

She takes a tentative sip, then her eyes widen and she takes another, much deeper pull through the straw. “What is that?”

“An Italian soda,” I explain. “Syrup, fizzy water, and a splash of cream. I cheated a little and muddled up some fresh raspberries instead of the syrup, though, because Doctor Wiezman said you should watch your added sugars.”

She laughs, pointing at the half-eaten burger on her plate. “I think the healthy eating ship has sailed this afternoon.”

I start to rise again. “If you want full sugar, I can remake it with syrup. Or try to rustle up a can of decaffeinated cola.”

She grips my wrist, directing me to sit again. “This is perfect. Seriously, River. It’s so good.”

Her praise shouldn’t light me up the way it does, but I’ve long since accepted that my body’s reactions to this woman aren’t exactly low-key.

We eat quietly for a few minutes, both of us enjoying our delicious burgers. From the speed at which Jas keeps returning to her soda, I know I’m going to have to make her another one before the meal is over.

“So,” I say, once I’ve demolished most of my burger. “We got the doctor’s visit out of the way. What’s the next thing we want to tackle?”

She chews on her bottom lip. “I’m not sure. I guess…” she looks conflicted. “It might be time to tell people.”

Now my stomach really drops. I’m going to have to tell my family.

“Does anyone know besides Brie?”

“My cousin Chris,” she says. “He’s Brie’s fiancé.”