Page 57 of Lick

“That’s disgusting.”

She laughs and jumps up, offering me her hands to tug me up, which is getting harder and harder to do solo.

She heads to the kitchen area, and I head to the bedroom, gathering up what I’ll need from the bedroom first. I start filling the tub as I strip out of my clothes and add some bubble bath. I keep the temp warm instead of my usual hot, so I don’t boil the baby, and climb in. I moan in appreciation before grabbing a washcloth, which I soak and place over my forehead.

The persistent stress headaches have been driving me nuts. I need to take better care of myself, but there are seriously not enough hours in the day to do all the things and then do anything other than face plant in my bed. I lie back, wishing I’d thought to bring a book in. But realistically, I wouldn’t have been able to focus for long.

My thoughts have been consumed with Lick, my worry so palpable I’ve been losing weight I can’t afford to lose. The news reports were few and far between after the first couple of days, especially when a high-profile politician got caught with his hand down his secretary’s pants, quite literally, on CCTV footage.

Then the shooting disappeared, as yesterday’s news often does, like Lick didn’t matter. But he matters far more than I ever wanted him to.

I cover my stomach with my hands and let the tears run free. I wish I could say it was cathartic, but it just drains me. I feel like I’m failing at everything lately, and it’s making my mood slip into a dark place. I let myself wallow for a while, where no prying eyes can judge me. I don’t care if it makes me weak. I have to get some of it out before it takes me over completely. I need to be strong for Lick. He’s always been the strong one, but now it’s my turn to step up and show him I can do it too.

With my resolve kicking in, I wash my body, then drain the water. Running the shower, I wash and condition my hair before rinsing. Once I’m done, I get out, wrap a towel around myself, and do the rest of my routine on autopilot, glad to be keeping my hands busy even if my thoughts are all over the place.

By the time I’m ready, I can smell something with garlic and cheese, which makes my stomach rumble. On the plus side, in the month from hell, my body decided to show me some kindness, giving me a break from the constant throwing up. I still had the anti-sickness meds in case I needed them, but for the most part, I was good. It meant going back to work, and that was exactly what I needed right now. If I’d been stuck at home waiting for news, I’d have lost my mind.

“Something smells good.”

“I made pasta ala Stacey, which is basically whatever is left in the fridge with a bunch of cheese thrown in.”

“My kind of meal. Thank you.”

“It really isn’t a problem. You keep acting like we’re all doing you favours, but we’re not. I, for one, would have been bored stupid, watching some crappy reality TV show and doomscrolling on my phone while I waited for Jessie to be done. I’d much rather spend my time with you. I don’t have many friends. So really, you’re doing me a favour if you think about it.”

“If you say so. I’m not going to argue when you’ve made me food.”

“See, I knew you were smart.”

I’m too busy digging in to fire off any snarky remarks and groaning around my food to really pay her any kind of attention.

“God, this is so good. Marry me.”

“I would, but Jessie might have something to say about it. Though I’m not opposed to the idea of a throuple,” she teases.

“I think the bun in the oven would make it four, and that’s one person too many. But thanks anyway. If I were ever going to bat for the other team, I’d definitely choose you to…”

“Go for a home run?”

“I have no idea what that really means. But sure, we can go with that.”

She keeps up a stream of light small talk as we eat, never once mentioning Lick. But there is still a heavy pall of confusion in the room. Everything between Lick and me had been so up in the air, and at times I think that was part of the allure. But now? Well, now I feel very much like an outsider who is on a need-to-know basis.

I check the time. I need to get moving if I don’t want to be late. “That was just what I needed. Thanks, Stace. I’m going to brush my teeth, so I don’t breathe garlic all over the customers, and grab my shoes.

“I’ll wash up real quick so you don’t have to come back to it, and throw the leftovers in the fridge for tomorrow.”

“There’s leftovers?”

She grins at my enthusiasm. “I thought you might like that.”

“You are a goddess, woman.”

She gets up and does a little bow. “I try. Now scoot. Traffic is always crazy at this time.”

After a long shift where I swear half my customers were either assholes who would hit on anything with a pulse, including apparently an obviously pregnant woman, or snooty women who acted like they were too classy for our humble establishment but stayed until last orders anyway. Or maybe the issue was just me. I swear, the further along I get, the less tolerance I have for people.

My phone died while I was on shift, so I haven’t been able to check it all night, which has made me antsy. I plug it in the second I get home. I strip out of my clothes, take the world’s quickest shower, thanks to someone spilling a pint down the front of me, and pull on the softest pair of pyjamas I own.