He nods slowly, deep concentration wrinkling his handsome face. “Want to walk the pack with me sometime?”
I wipe my tears and smile. “Yeah. That would be great.”
“I’m golfing Saturday morning. You up for that?”
Sniffling, I continue to nod as my grin doubles. “Yeah.”
His lips twist while averting his gaze for a few seconds. “Jimmy had to go. I won’t apologize for that.”
“I know,” I whisper.
Jimmy was going to go. I feel certain of that. But maybe Jimmy needed to learn his own lesson, one I couldn’t teach him. What he did to me was wrong, regardless of my pregnancy status. And I’m not sure that means what Shep did to him was “right,” but it was big. Really big. Knight in shining armor big.
“Thank you. Maybe I should have trusted you with my ugly truth. I might need a copy of that speech. I could probably learn a few things too.” I give him a slight shrug and half smile. “But I loved, I needed Shep World, a perfect slice of happiness. The greatest destination on Earth.”
“Shep World …” He chuckles and shakes his head. “I get it. Feeling weak is embarrassing. Trust me … I get it.”
I can’t imagine Shep ever feeling weak. “Is that why you had to take a friend to help beat up my ex?”
“Shut it, Sophie.” He narrows his eyes, but his lips pull into a beaming smile.
CHAPTER FORTY
SHEP
Over the following months, I download every self-help audiobook that I can find. I’m fairly certain a therapist would tell me I have some sort of unresolved feelings from Millie lying to me. Months of betrayal. All the times we “made love” and I thought (I hoped) we were making a baby, and she knew we weren’t. She wasn’t making love to me. She was fucking me.
I told myself I would never make love to another woman. I would fuck them before they fucked me. Turns out, with Sophie, I may have fucked myself.
Figures.
“Where are you?” Sophie asks as I stare into the distance long after we’ve both teed off.
She’s messing with my head. Her bare legs in that skirt or shorts thingy that she wears … well, they taunt me. It hugs her perfect ass. And her sleeveless tee molds her seven-month baby belly. She’s not swollen. She’s not lost her ability to kick my ass on the golf course. If anything, I’m more attracted to her now than ever before, which sucks because we’re friends. We haven’t done the best friend thing since Santa Monica. It’s all … really messing with my head.
“I’m uh … thinking about your birthing classes. Those start next week. Right?”
“Yeah.” She swings her little ass toward the golf cart. “Why?”
“Do you need a partner?”
“You mean another partner? No. Chloe and Mason will be there. Were you going to offer?”
I shrug. Returning my club to my bag. “Yeah. I thought it would be the nice thing to do.”
“It would be a little weird. I think it’s assumed that one’s birthing class partner will be in the delivery room. And if you think I’m letting you be in the delivery room with me, you are living on another planet, buddy. I’m still not sure how I feel about Mason being in there. I know … I just know he’s not going to stay by my head. He’s going to see ten centimeters of my vagina.”
I can’t hide my grin, so I cough into my fist. It’s never enough. I will never get enough of Sophie Ryan. My sun. Always the brightest star. Warm and comforting. I miss her when she’s not with me. And every day, she’s the first thought in my head, my sunrise.
“It’s not funny, Shep.” She grimaces, holding the side of her belly as she climbs into the cart.
“What’s wrong?”
She shakes her head. “I’m just getting kicked in the ribs. No big deal.”
I stare at her belly. I love her belly. I love her. I really really need to tell her that, but I don’t want it to stress her out if she’s not ready to deal with a pregnancy and me falling in love with her. “Can I … would it be weird if I uh … felt the baby kick?”
She lifts her brown eyes to mine and smiles. Without saying anything, she takes my hand and presses it to the side of her belly by her ribs. It moves. I feel it.
Fuck … I feel so much.
“You’re …” I curl my lips together, second-guessing what I want to say. What I want her to know. “You’re amazing, Sophie.”
Her lower lip does that little quiver thing. And I know behind her tinted white-framed glasses her eyes are filled with tears. It’s been a common occurrence lately. She blames it on the hormones.
“And if I ever introduce you to Howie, you have to promise not to tell him that I like you more than him.”