“Penny, I have room,” he says again.
I give his hand a squeeze. “Yes, you said that.”
“You don’t understand what I’m saying.” He draws my chin so I’m forced to look at him. “I have room, for the baby . . . and you.”
Wait . . .
“And me . . . as in . . .” I swallow. “Like I move in?”
“Yeah,” he says, his eyes completely sincere.
“But . . . you don’t want that, me barging in on your personal space.”
“What have I done for the past few months?” he asks. “Barged in on yours.”
“It’s different.”
“How?” he asks.
“Because you’re, you know . . . this professional hockey player who I’m sure has better things to do with his life than move his baby mama into his apartment.”
“What are you saying?” he asks, confusion knitting his brow.
“I’m not trying to say anything, I’m just, I don’t know . . . I didn’t bring it up to pressure you or anything.”
“You didn’t ask me. I brought it up. It was my idea.”
“Still.” I shake my head. “I don’t want to do that to you.”
I turn back around, but he’s no longer holding me tightly. Instead, he’s stiff and unmoving and not in a good way. “What exactly do you think you’re doing to me?” he asks. “Because from where I see it, I’m trying to figure out what happens when the baby comes, and I just figured you could move in with me. But it seems as though you don’t want that.”
“It’s not that I don’t want that, it’s just . . . I don’t know, Eli. What if you get sick of us? I don’t want to move out and deal with all of that. I’d rather just have my own place.”
He nods slowly and leans back against the tub, tilting his head back, looking up at the ceiling. “Do you think that’s going to happen? That I’m going to get sick of you?”
“I honestly don’t know. And I don’t want to hold this against you because that’s not what I’m trying to do at all, but you said it yourself. This is the first time you’ve actually let someone into your life. This is all new to you. I don’t want to overwhelm you by moving in, taking over your private space, and then bringing a baby into that. It’s not fair to you.”
“Do you know what’s not fair?” he asks. “You making that decision for me.”
Sensing his frustration building, I turn in the tub and straddle his lap as best as I can. His eyes avoid mine until I force him to look at me. “I’m trying to help you understand where I’m coming from.”
“You just said you trust me,” he says, hurt lacing his words. “Now, it seems like you don’t trust me at all.”
“No, that’s not the case.” I backtrack, trying to figure out a way for this to make sense. “I trust you, Eli. I just want to make sure you’re ready.”
“Me telling you I think you should move in is me being ready.”
“Yes, but how long have you been thinking about this? We can’t do a spur-of-the-moment—”
“For a month.”
“A month?” I sit back on his quads. “But we haven’t, you know . . . been intimate for that long.”
He reaches out and grips my chin, holding me steady. “Just because we haven’t been intimate for that long doesn’t mean I haven’t been thinking about you. Thinking about ways to keep you. This might seem all new to you, but it’s been on my mind for a while. I want to be there for you, Penny. I want you close to me, as much as I can get you. I want you to move in.”
I pause as my breath hitches in my chest, his words sinking in. “Wait, you’re serious.”
He drags his hand over his face. “Jesus Christ, Penny. Yes, I’m serious.”
“For like . . . for how long?”
“As long as you want.”
“Would we . . . share a bed?”
“Uh, do you really think you’d move into my place and not share a bed with me?” His hands fall to my side, his thumbs rub against my stomach. “I want the same setup we have now, just at my place instead. We can set up the baby’s room and ensure we have everything we need. I have plenty of storage and two parking spots so you don’t have to worry about that.” What I can’t get over is that he’s been thinking about this for a month. He has shown me time and time again how much he wants us. But it’s still hard to fathom.