Out On a Limb(52)

Yesterday’s question—what is your most controversial take?—turned a normally agreeable Bo argumentative in mere minutes. I was mostly joking when I suggested that juice with pulp was superior if not equal to juice without. I was not expecting the guy to fly off the handle, but, oh, was it entertaining to watch.

I genuinely loved watching him wildly push his hair out of his face and repeatedly fix his glasses as he paced the room. He was near hysterical, ranting about how disgusting pulp is and how, and I quote, any self-respecting human wouldn’t subject themselves to bits in their juice.

His controversial take was that movie theatre popcorn is overrated and doesn’t taste all that different from the microwavable kind when you consider costs.

We barely survived our first fight.

But as exciting as our new routine has been, it’s on hold tonight. Bo has friends coming over, and I’ve yet to decide if I’ll make an appearance or hide away in my room all evening.

He checked that having them here was fine with me at least a dozen times, and I assured him repeatedly that it was. Still, I’m nervous to meet them. If I should meet them. Maybe it would be best to just let them have their night and not get in the way. But equally, it could be rude to avoid them. How does one introduce oneself in this particular scenario?

Hi! I’m Win. I’m pregnant with your friend’s baby. He took pity on me, and now I’m also his roommate. Yes, we’ve seen each other naked. And no, I haven’t quite decided whether I want to again or if that could mess everything up. But also, it’s hard to know what to do because these fucking hormones are making me so horny that I have to recharge my vibrator every night, and he sometimes wears glasses that make me feel like I could chew rocks and spit out diamonds. Also, do you happen to know, is he still in love with his ex? Does he talk about her? I’m not getting a good read on that whole situation, and I’m not sure how to bring it up. Anyway, hope you guys have a fun night!

That could probably use some edits.

They’re coming over to play board games. Or a game, rather. Bo muttered the title under his breath while busying himself around the kitchen. His boyish smirk told me he was intentionally evasive each time I asked, so I gave up trying and decided to hide out in my room.

It was rather adorable watching him fret about preparing the house for his friends’ arrival. The bowls of snacks on the counter, the foldable table that he’s placed in the middle of the dining room, the black tablecloth overtop that he fixed several times.

The more I get to see Bo in his natural habitat, the more I realise that he cares a lot about other people’s comfort.

And it’s not only in big ways, like preparing his home for guests. It’s the way he speaks with his clients on the phone. He meets every concern they have with gentle assuredness, patience, and confidence. Never with an air of arrogance or superiority because he’s got a skill set not many people have. He truly wants the best for them.

Then, there’s all he does for me. Like knocking on my door every night before bed with a fresh glass of ice water and a new comic book to read. Or the giant body pillow I found in my room after work yesterday with a note that said for the world’s best baby mama.

When I asked him about it, he said his father-to-be book said that at around this stage of pregnancy, I’d start having trouble sleeping. The truth is, since being here, I’ve been sleeping like the dead every night. Still, it was a very sweet gesture.

Bo is clearly the type of guy who takes people under his wing. A natural caretaker type. It makes me glad to know that my kid will have a dad who goes above and beyond for the people he cares about.

“Win?” Bo says from the other side of my door with a soft knock.

“Yep?” I reply, dropping my crochet hook onto the bed beside me.

Bo slowly opens the door, steps inside, and closes it behind him. He looks like he’s about to ask me something when his attention falls to the bed next to me. “Wait. Do you knit?”

“Crochet,” I answer.

“What?” He elongates the word to several syllables. “That’s so cool… I didn’t know that!”

“I’m fairly certain crocheting isn’t considered a cool hobby by most,” I reply dryly.

“What are you making?” he asks, ignoring me.

“Oh, well, I thought I’d make a baby blanket. I’m doing a line of stitching every week of the pregnancy. I caught up with the weeks when I didn’t know about the baby with this nice mauve colour,” I say, holding up what I have so far. “Then, after that, I’m going to add a colour that sort of represents the week I’ve had.”

Bo nods, studying the blanket as I drop it back to the bed. “What was this week’s colour?”

“I chose grey,” I answer.

His face falls.

“A nice grey,” I assure him. “Grey like the stones we threw at the beach. I thought I’d remember our first day living together that way.”

Bo inhales, his shoulder rising back to a normal posture. “That’s going to be a very big blanket.”

“Yeah,” I huff. “I should probably do one of those normal pregnancy books that other people do instead,” I say with a shrug of my shoulders.

“No, the blanket is more original. I could do the typical baby book thing. If you’d like?”