Before nerves could settle in and grow roots, I dialed the number Maria had given me. One ring later, and the phone clicked over. Thinking I was getting a voicemail, I almost hung up until it began to ring again.

“Hello.” And somehow, Rhys’s voice got sexier. I was so completely in love with this man, a man I barely knew anymore.

Something I planned to rectify. Quickly.

“Hi. Thank you for my painting.” Lame. Of all the things to say, I went with formal and expected.

“I hoped you wouldn’t be mad.” The insecurity in Rhys’s voice warmed my heart. Because I could see where Rhys was coming from. He had something so personal of mine that hadn’t been given directly to him. To me, it showed love, but to many, it would be an invasion.

“I was beyond touched.” Those words didn’t encompass what I wanted to say, but they were the best I could do without allowing my emotions to entirely take over, especially with my hormones roaring at the door. “You were right. I did regret it.”

“I have to confess that I have other pieces of yours.” And now Rhys was just being adorable.

“How did you manage that?” I had already seen them. No point being coy, but information seeking? I was all about that. My painting was next to a flipping Rembrandt. I was never going to get over that one.

“Serendipity, I suppose.”

Serendipity.

I had to chuckle. When I first learned that term, we had just started dating, and I used it every chance I could in an effort to show off my smarts. At least that was my plan at the time.

Now, I just saw it as the youthful silliness that it was.

Rhys remembered, though. Why did that make me so squishy in the heart?

“I was at an antique/junk store killing time between business meetings when I was in Chicago, and there they were. I immediately knew they were yours.” Rhys’s voice took on an even sexier tone, one that made my squishy heart skip a beat. “One is the one you did after signing up for your SAT, and the other was the one you did after we took our relationship to the next level.”

I blushed at Rhys’s admission. He wasn’t wrong about my muse for either painting. It was touching that Rhys remembered the SAT one. People didn’t forget their first time, so of course he would remember that painting. The SAT one, however, wasn’t as significant, so I was surprised that he knew about it.

Of all the paintings for Rhys to find.

Mine.

“You always had a way with words.” I had to give it to Rhys. He still knew how to make me blush, even after all these years. “You mean after we did it,” I added for humor and to break the incredible intoxication I was feeling over Rhys’s confession.

“And you were always blunt.” His deep laughter filled my ears. I needed to record it for later. That laugh always could give me a sense of comfort, even through the darkest days of my teenage years.

“I can’t believe you put the painting I made about us losing our virginity next to a Rembrandt. Have you no respect?” I bantered back, accidentally giving away more than I had intended. I plopped into my overstuffed armchair, hoping the conversation would be long enough for me to need the comfy place to sit.

We’d see after I told him about my pregnancy. I was stalling just to keep this banter going between us, because I didn’t know what would happen beyond that.

“You knew I had them?”

“Not until tonight.” I put a palm to my forehead.

“Well, if you hadn’t run out like that, you may have seen them.” There was no smugness to Rhys’s voice. It was just the simple truth. If I hadn’t been in such a hurry, I would have seen them.

“I met with Marko at his gallery opening,” I continued, before I lost my nerve. I held my breath, Rhys’s opinion on my meeting meaning more to me than I cared to admit, even to myself.

“And he recognized your work?” Rhys concluded.

“He did. Says you won’t sell them.”

I so desperately wanted to ask why. The pieces were untrained, teen hormone-induced at best. My work had gotten so much better over time. Not as emotional, for teens owned that, but technique-wise, certainly.

“I won’t.”

I couldn’t let him get away with his non-answer. Rhys was in the business of making money. Lots of money. He had pieces in his collection museums had wet dreams about. It was a no-brainer to sell my pieces if they would make him the money the internet said they were worth.

“The deflowering on display I understand, but why keep the ‘I’m so nervous for my SAT’ vent?”

“Because it was a part of you. All of your paintings were. It was why they were so powerful. So brave. So memorable.”

It was a good thing I was sitting down, as my knees surely would’ve given way at Rhys’s declaration.

“It isn’t like anyone who sees the painting knows what they mean,” I protested.

But Rhys did. He knew and revered it. I couldn’t wrap my head around that one, not one bit.

“You’d never guess how many people ask me about when I lost my virginity after seeing the painting.” I could picture the sexy wink I was sure accompanied Rhys’s joke. Good old Rhys always knew how to get me smiling.

“I’m sure.” I pulled my knees up, hugging them with one arm and perching my head on them. It blew my mind how quickly we fell back into the comfortable banter of our youth.

“They really are brave and powerful and honest and… you.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you appreciate them.” My heart was beating in my chest so loudly, I was pretty confident Rhys could hear through it the phone. Rhys’s words touched me so deeply, I quickly moved to change the subject without being too obvious. Rhys would know, though. Rhys could always read me. “Marko wants to show me in his gallery.”

“I want first dibs.” Part of Rhys’s words were to let me know he was going along with the change of topic, or at least depth of topic, the other part… I bet Rhys truly wanted to buy one, which still boggled my mind. Maybe to accompany any other Rembrandts he had hanging around his mansion.

“Why?” I asked softly. It was a serious question and not the fishing for compliments he probably got all the time from gorgeous omegas. “You already have two, and had a third until an hour ago.” I glanced at the piece that Rhys had given to me. Returned to me, rather.

But then again, it had always been Rhys’s. Just like everything that was me.

I cleared my throat, the wave of emotions welling up in me. Now. I should tell Rhys about my pregnancy now. “Hey, listen, I have something to tell you…”

The doorbell chimed, interrupting me, and I looked to the door, frowning at it.

“Who is it?” I called as I made my way out of the chair and toward the door. Chances were it was a pizza for the house around the bend. For some reason, they often stopped here first, trusting their GPS a little more than they should. And for some reason, my neighbors ordered a ton of pizza. “Can you stay on the line while I check the door? I have something I really need to tell you, and—”

“Absolutely,” Rhys said, interrupting my babble.

It wasn’t pizza that was waiting for me in the doorway.