“Thank you for all this,” I whisper to Izzy as she walks us into her apartment, which has been done out for the baby shower she has thrown Maisy and me. Seconds later, everyone jumps up from where they were hidden and shouts surprise. I want to say it’s a surprise, but I overheard her telling Harley something the other day, so I knew. I laugh and smile as someone switches the lights on, and I get a look at the room where everyone is. There are pink and blue decorations everywhere, with flowers and balloons spread around the room. I don’t know all the women here, but most look familiar like they go to the gym. There’s a full counter of presents in two large piles, and I know I will have to send ‘thank you’ letters to everyone for the gifts. I mean they don’t really know me that well, and yet, they clearly bought me baby gifts. I try not to feel the pang of sadness I do when I realise my mother isn’t here, not that I expected her to be. I just never imagined having a baby shower without her here.

“It’s nothing,” Izzy waves a hand at me to walk in as she speaks.

“You look lovely,” Allie says as she walks up to me with Maisy at her side. I give her a hug, looking at the weird pink and blue bows clipped to her blue dress. Maisy tries to hug me, but both our large bumps get in the way.

“Aha, even though I’m a month behind you, my bump is huge,” Maisy comments, and it’s true. Her bump is massive on her small frame, whereas mine is still small. I remember the baby scan that Harley came with me to, how they said the baby is curled up around my spine, and it’s normal.

“I think it’s because Tilly is taller than all of us,” Allie says, and she might be on to something.

“Okay, what is with all the bows?” I ask her, seeing that all the women have them on and Maisy doesn’t.

“Okay, so it’s game. Everyone got a bow when they came in, and if you say, baby, then you have to give your bow, or bows, to whoever you were talking to. Whoever has the most at the end, gets a prize,” she says and clips a bow onto my red maternity dress. I smooth it down and look at my red dress, seeing my little bump.

“How come you don’t have one?” I ask Maisy, who laughs before answering.

“I gave up when I walked in, I can’t not say baby, and the prize is useless for us pregnant people.” She winks, so I’m guessing it alcoholic.

“Congratulations on the baby coming, I’m Emilia,” a woman with curly, brown hair says coming over. She has on a black hoodie and black jeans, which is different from the room full of women in dresses, but it doesn’t take away from her beauty. She has tanned skin and big, brown eyes.

“Hi, I’m Tilly, nice to meet you,” I say, shaking her hand.

“I live with Izzy and Blake here,” she tells me, and it makes some sense. “But, I’m off, I just wanted to say hello.”

“You could stay, it looks like there is plenty to drink and eat,” I say, noticing the massive buffet table in the lounge which is full of baby-themed food. There is even a cake shaped like a cradle, with ‘Baby Fox’ written in icing on the side.

“Thanks, but my dad called, and yeah, I have to go. We should hang out another time, though,” she smiles, and I nod.

“Bye, Em,” Allie gives her a hug before she waves to everyone else and leaves.

“We have games planned,” Allie winks and takes my hand, leading me over to some women who are standing around. We chat for a bit with some of the women who do remember me from the gym and others are nice when we are introduced. I spend the next hour eating and talking to the women here, most give me horror stories about their births, and others offer advice that may be useful to know when the baby comes. Overall, it’s fun, and the food is amazing.

“Okay, the painter is here,” Izzy says as she comes over to me, with a woman at her side. The woman is older with a huge bag on her shoulder.

“This is a gift from us to both you and Maisy,” Izzy whispers.

“Hi, I’m Daisy, and I paint pictures on your bump. It’s called Bump art. I have a portfolio you can look through and choose from, but I can do anything you want,” the woman says, and I can’t help the smile I give them all as they wait for me and Maisy to say something. It’s actually really sweet.

“I’m also a photographer, so I will take some photos that you can keep,” she says, and it’s the perfect gift.

“You can go first,” I whisper to Maisy who gives me an excited look before following Daisy and Allie into a bedroom with some women following. I go over and choose some food from the massive collection, and I’m halfway through eating a fantastic cupcake when Harley, Sebastian, and Elliot walk in. Harley comes straight over to me, and I can’t take my eyes off him as he does.

“I thought guys weren’t invited?” I ask, and he smirks as he sits next to me. I watch as he dips his finger into the icing on the cupcake and sucks it off his finger.

“I’ve never played by the rules, Siren,” he chuckles, knowing precisely what he is doing.

“Neither have I,” I whisper back, dropping my tone, just as Maisy comes out the bedroom with her bump on show. There is an amazing painting of a moon with a stork flying across it, and there is a purple-sky background and flowers at the bottom of her bump.

“Wow,” I hear Sebastian say, and he comes over, trying to place his hand on the bump, and Maisy moves away.

“It’s not dry yet,” she says with a laugh, and he leans over, kissing her cheek.

“Don’t you want a relationship like that?”

“I don’t do relationships. I don’t date. I would only hurt someone if I tried,” he says, clearly meaning me, and I have to look away from him.

“Tilly, it’s your turn. Your boyfriend can come with you if you want?” she asks, looking at Harley and me.

“Oh, he isn’t my boyfriend, Harley doesn’t do relationships,” I say, and Harley glares at me as I stand up and walk off with Daisy.

“For someone that doesn’t do relationships, the way he just looked at you was awfully possessive,” Daisy comments. I look back at Harley who is still staring at me with his passionate eyes, and a tight smile on his lips. Possessive is definitely a word I would use to describe the look he is giving me, but it makes no difference. Harley King says he doesn’t play by the rules, but he won’t break his own for me.