“Oh, I—” I almost dismiss myself. I nearly tell them every way in which I’m unqualified, unprofessional, incapable. I even, almost, hand back the business card. But I don’t. I stop myself.
Maybe it’s because of the hope on their faces and the smile still stuck on Henry’s.
Maybe it’s because of Bo, telling me how capable I am. How possible this is.
Mostly, I think, it’s because of me. Because of how much stronger I feel lately.
I let myself feel proud of everything I did with Henry today, the years of schooling that prepared me for this, the life I’ve lived with my hand and the experiences I’ve gathered just by having it. And I hold my head high.
“Thank you,” I say. “I’ll definitely be in touch. Thank you,” I add again—because I can’t resist. “It was great to meet you, buddy. You’re going to do great with Mr. Cam, here.”
“Thanks again,” Tonya says as they usher Henry toward the changing rooms.
Cam shuts the door and then smiles at me with I told you so eyes.
I look at the business card in my hand and take a deep inhale. James Burrough, President of Burrough Financial Holdings.
“Win, I think you’re getting your camp.”
“I mean, he could easily change his mind. I still have to make a proposal and find—” I stop myself again. Sometimes… things are just good things. I could spend my whole life waiting for the other shoe to drop, or I could begin training myself to expect the best. Embrace gratitude and drop the scepticism. “This… this is very cool, isn’t it? The chances of running into you here, meeting Henry and his parents… It’s…”
“Very cool,” Cam says, starting to lead the way to the changing rooms. “You said ‘we’ before. Do you have a business partner or someone else?”
“Did I?”
“Yeah. You said, ‘we’re starting to make plans,’ when Tonya asked just now.”
“Oh, I…” I consider what Bo and I are to each other and decide to simplify it as best I can. “My roommate and me. He’s in finance and is helping me out.”
“Oh, okay,” Cam says, his smile crooked and his eyes narrowed in on me. Uh-oh. I know that look. “Would you maybe want to grab a drink, then? A late dinner?”
Yep, there it is.
I grimace, putting a hand on Cam’s shoulder and patting him just once before removing it. “So, funny story about my roommate. Actually…”
“Got it,” Cam says, laughing under his breath. “It’s complicated, I take it?”
“Beyond complicated.”
“Want to grab a very platonic drink and talk about it, then?”
I laugh, looking up to the ceiling. “So, actually, I can’t drink either.”
“Oh,” Cam says, his eyes dropping down to my stomach.
“Yep…”
“The roommate’s?”
“Yeah,” I breathe out.
“That is complicated.” He winces, smiling even still.
“It is,” I say.
“So no Westcliff this year?” he asks.
I shake my head, frowning. “Not this year.”
“Ah, well, we’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss it too.”
“You know, if you wanted to, I bet Henry’s parents would rather have you teaching him. I’ve got a pretty full schedule already, and you could take over his lessons. It’s two hundred bucks a week after the pool rental.”
“Two hundred?” I nearly yell. “For an hour?”
“I’m telling you…” Cam says, reaching down to grab his towel and flipping it over his shoulder. “James has got camp money.”
“I’d love that,” I say. “Are you sure?”
“Just remember me when it’s time to hire for that camp of yours,” Cam says with a wink.
“Absolutely,” I say, smiling back at him.
“I’ll text you the details, then,” he says. “See you around, Win.”
“Thank you,” I shout after him when he disappears from view.
CHAPTER 24
Nineteen Weeks Pregnant. Baby is the size of a mango.
“If you could teleport right now, where would you go?” Bo asks me before filling his face with another spoonful of ice cream.
We ran out of questions from the deck a week ago, having fallen into the same routine for the past month of living together. Every evening, we eat dinner, tidy up to the sounds of another record, then ask a question. On the calmer days, when the music is jazz or soft-rock, Bo completes his sudoku puzzle on the couch. Other times, when the music calls for it, he plays air guitar or drums and throws his body around the kitchen for my amusement as I finish cleaning up.
Since we ran out, Bo’s just been making up the questions on the spot.
The twenty questions to fall in love certainly did what it says on the box.
I’m pretty hopelessly in love with Bo at this point. Platonically, of course. Mostly. The primal, baby daddy hormones sometimes disagree about the platonic part. Usually when he gives me foot rubs while we watch movies, or when his eyes dip down to my cleavage when they probably shouldn’t, or when he… you know… breathes near me.
Even still, we’ve been on our best behaviour.
“Ooh, good one,” I say, taking the communal spoon from him as he holds the carton out for me. “Somewhere warm and on a beach, for sure. But not somewhere cheap to fly to—since I could just do that myself. Maybe Greece? Yeah, Greece.”
“I was going to say Greece too,” Bo says, taking the spoon back from me. “I want to see the Temple of Poseidon.”
“Sure,” I laugh out. “We’ll go together.”
“Excellent,” he says, his mouth full of ice cream.
“Oh, Doctor Salim called, by the way. The ultrasound is in two weeks.”
“How are you feeling about it?” Bo asks.
“Uh, I’m a little nervous. Excited to see Gus, though.”
“What day?”
I tsk, trying to remember. “Uh, not sure. It was a Friday.” I lift up, moving to grab my phone. “I think the tenth?”
“My dad will be here then,” Bo says, swallowing another helping before handing me back the carton. “If that’s still okay?”
“Bo, I have sworn to you that it’s more than okay. Multiple times. I’m excited to meet your dad.”
“Just checking,” he says, raising his palms up defensively. “I’ll have that day off, though. So maybe we can drop Dad off somewhere and pick him up after the appointment.”
“No, don’t miss out on time with your dad.”
“Are you crazy? As if I’d miss an ultrasound. This is when they look like a baby, right? Not a little bean anymore?”
“Yeah, think so.” I take the final scoop of ice cream, finishing off the carton and setting it on the coffee table. “And how are you feeling about turning thirty, old man?” I say, draping my feet across his lap. He, rolling his eyes at both his new nickname and my silent demand, begins rubbing my feet.
“Honestly? Fine. I was thinking about it the other night, and I’m just grateful to still be here, and for all that’s to come. My birthday last year was pretty terrible. During the dark times.” He laughs dryly.