Grace and Glory (The Harbinger 3) - Page 82

One of his brows rose. “You mean, what if I got you pregnant?”

“What if we got ourselves pregnant,” I corrected.

“I don’t know,” he said with a soft, somewhat uncertain laugh. “We would—”

“Have to figure it out?”

“Together. Yes.”

“I can’t... I can’t even think about it,” I admitted. “That’s possibly the most immature response, which is a key sign that I’ll make a terrible parent, but I can’t even wrap my head around that possibility.”

“I can’t, either. And it’s not that I wouldn’t be okay with the idea—if that’s what you decided,” he said, and the next breath I took lodged somewhere in the swelling in my chest. “It’s just not something I’ve prepared myself for, but I will get prepared no matter what happens or is decided.”

Some of the unacknowledged tension loosened. It wasn’t that the possibility of being pregnant didn’t still freak me the Hell out. It did and then some, but it wouldn’t be something I faced alone. There was nothing I would face alone now.

“So, we’ve covered my dad, what it was like to get pumped full of grace, Lucifer, my crap vision, the fact I will grow old and you won’t, your dismay over what happened between us in the pool and the possibility of me being pregnant.” I grinned. “What a reunion, huh?”

Zayne laughed. “It’s perfect.”

“Whatever.”

“It is.” Dipping his head, he kissed me. “I need a shower. Want to join me?”

My heart skipped a beat and muscles low in my stomach tightened even as tiny beads of uncertainty pilled up in my stomach. I’d never showered with someone before. Obviously. Zayne was the first guy I’d ever been completely naked with, so my mind immediately showed me, in detail, all the ways I’d end up looking and behaving like a total goober, but my heart and my body was screaming, Shower? With Zayne? Yes and yes, please.

Those tiny beads in my stomach started bouncing with nervous energy, but now more than ever, I couldn’t let fear and self-consciousness drive my decisions. Not after learning the hard way that tomorrow wasn’t promised.

“Okay,” I said, hoping my voice didn’t sound as squeaky to him as it did to me. “I mean, yes. Sure.” Heat crept into my cheeks. “I’d like that.”

“You sure?” A softness had settled into his features. “We don’t have—”

“I’m sure,” I interrupted. “Hundred percent sure.”

“Good.” Zayne smiled then, and a whooshing motion swept through my chest. “Because I really don’t want to let you out of my sight for more than a few minutes. That probably sounds needy as Hell, but I just...” Lashes swept down, hiding his eyes. “I don’t know. I’m not expecting anything beyond you being there with me. I just need to be able to see you.”

“I get it.” And Lord, did I ever completely understand. “I feel the same way.”

He dipped his head, kissing me. “Why don’t you go ahead and get the shower started? I’m going to de-Cayman-ize the kitchen first.”

Since part of that mess was mine, I started to tell him he didn’t have to do that, but then it struck me. He was giving me time, making this less awkward, and yeah, getting undressed and stepping into the shower with him probably would have me giggling like there was something wrong with me.

Whatever it was that made Zayne so incredibly thoughtful and considerate was still there. It was the part of him that set him apart from so many and it made it all too easy to fall in love with him despite the risks.

Heart squeezing, I stretched up and kissed him. What was supposed to be a thank-you turned into something a little more, and it was several moments before Zayne rolled off me. I got a little hung up in staring at the markings on his back, but finally got my body moving.

I hurried to the bathroom, my heart beating way too fast as I brushed my teeth and cranked on the water. There was a dizzying rush of anticipation and nervousness, and an acute sense of surreality as I stripped off my clothes, toeing them into a corner and then picking them up, actually making use of the empty laundry hamper. Quickly grabbing the other small piles of clothing scattered about, I tossed them where they belonged and, before I started giggling like I’d been afraid of or passed out, I stepped under the hot spray.

My senses were so hyperaware that my hands were trembling as I turned slowly. It wasn’t that I was scared. It wasn’t like I wasn’t ready. It wasn’t anything like that. It was just that everything felt like...like it was a first. The showering together thing definitely was, but even though we’d experienced all manner of kisses and so much more, everything felt different and new now.

Water plastered my hair to my back and streamed over my body as I looked down at the numerous fading cuts and bruises. My body was a patchwork of old scars and new ones, and I knew that each one of those flaws was exactly as Zayne had said earlier—a badge of strength. I wasn’t embarrassed by them. I was proud.

Tags: Jennifer L. Armentrout The Harbinger Fantasy
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