Hayden: Good morning. Did you sleep well? Get some eggs? Drink some tea? Think about me at least three times?

Chuckling, I put down my mascara brush and pick up my phone.

Adalyn: Slept okay. I had some eggs and toast with some water this morning, happy?

His response is immediate.

Hayden: You failed to mention the thinking about me part.

Adalyn: I did on purpose.

Hayden: Ouch. That’s okay, another knock from you to my ego isn’t going to kill me. Although, it wouldn’t hurt you to say how handsome I looked last night.

Adalyn: You’re absurd.

Hayden: Just admit it. Dapper, that was me. Mr. Dapper Dan.

Adalyn: I don’t think men who qualify as dapper beg people to call them dapper.

Hayden: There was no begging involved, just trying to nudge you in the right way of thinking. Come on, admit it.

Adalyn: Your hair looked nice.

Hayden: Bingo! I’ll take it.

He’s so ridiculous, smiling I respond back.

Adalyn: And you smelled good too.

Hayden: Okay . . . that’s not fair. Now I’m hard and on an airplane to San Jose.

Adalyn: Men are disgusting.

Hayden: Hey, I don’t say women are disgusting when you get wet.

Adalyn: It’s because we don’t announce it like our coffee order in the morning.

Hayden: You should . . . it’s sexy foreplay. Are you wet from this conversation?

Adalyn: No.

Hayden: Eh, it was worth a try.

Hayden: Just got back to the hotel, have a second to chat?

Adalyn: Yeah, is everything okay?

The phone buzzes in my hand. Pausing Netflix, I shift my computer to the other side of my bed and answer my phone.

“Hello.”

“Hey.” Soft, deep, comforting, Hayden’s voice brings chills to my skin. “How are you?”

“Good,” I answer on a swallow. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”

“Well”—I pause and read his text again, pulling the phone away from my ear—“you asked if I had a second to chat? Made me think that maybe you had something specific to say.”

“Nah, just wanted to hear your voice. That’s all.”

Sighing and relaxing into my mattress, the tension rolling off my shoulders, I say, “You know, it’s not nice to scare pregnant women.”

“Did I scare you?”

“Sort of,” I answer honestly.

“Ahh, I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to. I wanted to chat, that’s all. I know you go to bed soon, so thought I’d catch you before you drifted off.”

Baby. He’s been throwing that term of endearment around so casually, like this past summer. Does he realize the kind of effect it has on me? The kind of wave of heat that rushes through my body every time he says it?

He probably does. That’s why he keeps saying it, to weaken me.

It’s just another piece of Hayden that’s been so different than every other man who has ever attempted to be with me.

I made a mental list in my head, trying to figure out why I’ve been so apprehensive, and at one in the morning, after my mind had been racing, it hit me. Hayden was my first when it came to an emotional relationship. Beside my dad and brothers, he was the first man to treat me like a lady, to respect me, to emotionally grab me and pull me into his universe while wanting to be in mine.

He chose to get to know my mind, my soul, rather than only my body.

He was the first to challenge me.

He was the first to shut me down when I tried to make things physical, telling me there was time for that.

And he was the first to truly break my heart.

Logan hurt me, but he didn’t break my heart.

And being that I’ve never fully given my heart to another man, I wasn’t expecting Hayden’s departure from my life to hurt so bad, for it to affect me so much, for it to positively consume me.

I can’t do that again. I can’t risk that feeling again. I only had him in my life for such a short time, but he took over everything in my heart. Reorganized my priorities, my time, my focus. And I can’t risk going back to such a dark place where I missed him terribly, where I cried more than I’d ever cried in my life. Losing Hayden’s presence stole something essential, and I’m terrified of giving that away in case I lose it again. I need to be whole, strong, to be able to work and raise a baby on my own. I need to feel strong . . . but that’s what he’s offering. His strength so I’m not alone. No. I’ve told him I need to be strong. On my own.

And yet, here I am, talking to him, worrying that maybe something was wrong with him. Will I ever be able to separate myself, have a clean break?

Thinking about it for a second, I don’t think I will. He’s the father of my child, he will forever be in my life, whether I like it or not.

“Are you there, Adalyn?”

Pulling myself back in the conversation, not letting my negative thoughts take over, I say, “Yes, sorry. Just thought of something. So, uh, your trip was good?”

“Yeah,” he says hesitantly. “But I don’t want to talk about that. I’ve been all hockey all day, I like to decompress at the end of the day. I showed my mom the photos you gave me today.”

Oh wow. I wonder how she took that? God, she probably hates me now. “Um . . . what did she say?”

“She didn’t say much actually.” Oh. That’s worse than I thought. “She was so quiet I thought I’d lost the connection. Turns out she was having one of her silent-cry moments. Does your mom do that?”

“The silent cry? Hmm, not so much, but I know what you mean. Was she angry? With me?”

“God, no. Adalyn, she thinks you’re amazing. I didn’t tell her about when I found out. I just said we didn’t want to say anything until you were past the first trimester.” This man. How can he protect me from his mom’s wrath when I held back from telling him about his own baby? “She told me to give you her number. If you want it. To talk about pregnancy . . .” He’s silent, and I wonder what he’s thinking. “Anyway, she’s happy, Adalyn. She’s so looking forward to having a grandchild to cuddle and fuss over. And she’s really looking forward to meeting you.”

“Ah . . . that’s nice. She’s nice.” She’s nice? That’s all I’ve got? My mom wasn’t exactly thrilled about the pregnancy, she mostly worried about me and going it alone. My baby will have two grandmothers. And I felt even worse thinking that in not telling Hayden, I would have denied his mother knowing her own grandchild. God. I’m awful.

“So, tell me, have you thought of names?”

“Names?”

“Baby names. Do you have any that you like?”

Oh . . . do I have names? I think about the little note section I have in my phone for names I’ve heard and liked. Should I tell him? Why the hell not? We’re going through this process together.

“Maybe.”

Chuckling, I can hear him shift, probably getting more comfortable wherever he is. “Hit me with them.”

“I want to hear yours first, just in case mine are stupid, I can adjust based on what you say.”

“What?” He laughs. “No way, that’s not fair. I asked you first.”

“And I’m the one who has to push a watermelon out of a quarter-sized hole, so guess who’s going to win this battle?”

“God, I like you pregnant. So damn feisty. It’s sexy as hell.”

“I was feisty before.” Truth, being one of nine meant I had no choice but to learn how to stick up for myself.

“True, but it’s like you have an extra pinch of cayenne in you.”

“Stop avoiding the question. Tell me your names.”

“Fine, but no laughing, okay?”

“I can’t make any promises.” Turning to my side, I get comfortable, interested to hear his choices.

“Brutal, baby, totally brutal.” Clearing his throat, he continues, “Okay, if it’s a boy, I was thinking something like Melvin.”

I take pause, letting the silence stretch on the phone. “No, you were not.”

“Yes, I was. Melvin Holmes. It has a good ring to it, and it’s my great, great grandfather’s name. He was a good man.”

“A man you never met.”

“Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t name my firstborn after him.”

“Not happening. Sorry. Granddaddy Melvin is not happening.”

“Okay, give me one of your boy names then.” His voice is challenging, yet playful.

Thinking back to my list, I don’t go with my number one, instead I toss up number two, wanting to gauge his reaction. “How about Reign.”

He takes no time in answering. “Are you kidding?”

“What’s wrong with Reign? You’re just disagreeing because I didn’t like Melvin.”

“Melvin was a joke.” I knew it, the bastard. “And I can’t possibly have a son with the name Reign. Should his middle name be sunflower?”

I roll my eyes. “Reign, spelled r-e-i-g-n.”

He pauses. “Oh . . . still no.”

Even though I’m a little upset, I didn’t think he’d go for that name, which is why I threw it out there first. I couldn’t possibly have him hate my number-one pick.

“Fine, give me a real boy’s name that you like.”

“Hayden Junior.” He chuckles on the phone.

“You’re impossible. I’m hanging up now.”

“Wait.” The mirth in his voice continues. “I don’t have a boy’s name really, but I have a girl’s name.”

“If you say Adalyn Junior, I’m going to hang up.”

“No, this is real. I promise.”

I switch the phone in my hand. “Okay, go for it.”

“If we have a girl, I really like the name Madeline.”

The name rolls of his tongue with such love that it makes me actually have to pause, my mind envisioning Hayden with a little girl, running toward him, her eyes big and brown like his, her little knees all pudgy, calling out Daddy while he says her name. Madeline.

It’s beautiful. The whole picture in my head, it’s beautiful.

My eyes begin to sting. For fuck’s sake, it’s just a name, but for some reason the name hits me hard, harder than I thought because it truly isn’t just a name.

It’s an image.

It’s a conceivable future.

“You hate it, don’t you?”

Holding back my tears, my throat growing tight, I shake my head even though he can’t see me.

“It’s . . . beautiful, Hayden.”

“Really?” Joy exudes him.

“Yes, really beautiful. I could see it.”

“So does that mean it’s on the table?”

“It does.”

There is a knock on my door when I hear Hayden say, “Fuck, yes!”

“Uh, hold on one second.”

Pulling the phone away from my ear, I put it on mute and call out to Logan. “Yes?”

He pops his head through a crack in the door and takes me in, his eyes slowly giving me a once-over, heat filling them when his eyes land on my bra-less breasts, my nipples hard, poking past the flimsy T-shirt.

“Am I interrupting you?” he finally asks when his eyes reach mine.

“Just on the phone. What’s up?”

“Tomorrow night. I’m working a late shift tomorrow so I’m starting at eight. Want to go out and grab dinner together beforehand?”

Logan’s job alternates between early, mid, and late shifts. He leaves the apartment at six thirty on his early shifts, which means we don’t always cross paths until the night on those days. Because I’ve been so tired, we’ve mostly eaten at home each day, but going out sounds like fun for a change.

“Yeah, that sounds fine,” I answer casually.

He winks at me. “Perfect, it’s a date. I’ll make reservations for six. Wear something sexy.” Tapping the molding, he shuts the door, leaving me slightly confused. Wear something sexy? That was a joke, right? Because sexy right now for me is a pair of leggings and fuzzy socks.

“Adalyn, you there?”

Ridding all thoughts of Logan out of my head, I turn my attention back to Hayden, taking the phone off mute. “Sorry about that. I had to answer a text.” The lie feels dirty coming off my tongue, like I’m trying to hide something and I’m really not. Logan just asked me to have dinner with him as a friend, and I accepted as a friend. That’s that.

“Not a problem. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is fine. Thank you. Although, I should probably get to bed soon. The baby has been wiping me out.”

“I bet. I can’t imagine what it would be like to be having a demon sucking the life from you every day.”

That makes me snort laugh. I wipe at my nose when I say, “Men will never know the tribulations we go through to bring life into the world.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re superwoman and I mean that.” He grows serious. “You’ve battled severe morning sickness, weight loss, and all the hormones that go along with your body changing with the baby. You’ve moved across country after spending week after week working long hours in the hospital to be closer to me as a favor. You’ve learned a whole new job, in a foreign city far away from your family, and you still have that beautiful smile on your face. I’m in awe, Adalyn, and I’m not just saying that. You truly are awe-inspiring.”

Biting on my bottom lip, heart sputtering in my chest, I weakly say, “Thank you.”

“Of course . . . now this is when you tell me how amazing I am at hockey and being a supportive baby daddy.”

Chuckling, I wipe away a stray tear. “I’ve yet to see you play hockey, so I can’t speak true to that, but the supportive thing, you’ve been incredibly supportive. The pizza alone has been a savior, not to mention the cute texts checking up on me.”

“Just want to make sure my girl is okay, that’s all, even from afar. Which reminds me, there should be cinnamon buns at the office tomorrow morning for you and the girls. Don’t eat too much. Baby demon sent me Morse Code using its umbilical cord that it wanted cinnamon buns.”

“You realize how disturbing an image that is?”

“I can’t picture the baby without horns and a two-pronged fork, so is there something wrong with me?”

Now that he says it, the image is firmly planted in my head now. “Yes, something is seriously wrong with you.”

“And yet, you had unprotected sex with me, so that tells me there is something alluring about me.”

“It’s because you made me wait so damn long. I was desperate to see what all the fuss was about.”

Chuckling, he says, “Your words, baby. That was so fucking hot. Well worth the wait. And I couldn’t have agreed more.”

He’s right. I did say that. Because it was. But I can’t reinforce that right now. “Don’t gloat too much, you were just average.”

“Oh bullshit.” Too much for holding back, a laugh pops out of me. “FaceTime me right now. I’ll make you come in two minutes.” Tempting, since I’ve been feeling more and more turned on with every day the nausea fades.

I must take too long to answer because Hayden says, “Thinking about it? Are those pregnancy hormones kicking in?”

“What? No!” I answer entirely too quickly. I might have painted a giant sign over my head that says I’m horny.

When I think Hayden is about to laugh, he doesn’t, instead he grows even more serious than before, more intense. “Are you horny, Adalyn?”

“This is not something we should be talking about. I should go.”

“Answer the question, Adalyn.” Firm and so male, his voice is like a lightning bolt straight to my core.

“No.” I don’t even believe myself, my answer so weak, so unconvincing.

“Do your nipples ache? Is your pussy throbbing? Are you wet?” Back to the wet conversation.

As much as I’d like to deny it, I’m so incredibly wet right now, just from hearing his voice drop lower on the phone, the deep rumble shaking me from the tips of my toes to the apex between my legs.

“Adalyn, I’m waiting on an answer.”

“Hayden . . .” I draw out, hating how quickly he’s heated my body, how quickly a few questions have brought back vivid memories of him hovering over me, pulsing in and out, his long, thick cock rubbing me in such a sensual way I can practically feel the thrusting right now.

“Answer me.”

Biting on my bottom lip, my hips slowly starting to rotate, looking for some sort of relief. I should not be talking about this with him. I should hang up right now. I shouldn’t be leading him on when I have no clue what I want, but the strong need I have for him holds me back.

“Yes.” It’s one word, one simple word, but it shifts our conversation from casual to hot in seconds.

Hayden’s breathing picks up, his groan loud, echoing through the phone.

“Fuck, do you have a vibrator?”

“We’re not doing this on the phone, Hayden.” There, some sense has been knocked into me.

“Saturday,” he groans. “I get home around noon, have dinner with me.”

“I’m not having sex with you.” And I’m standing firm with that statement.

“Say yes to dinner.”

Reaching between my legs, under my underwear, I press lightly on my clit and try to hold back my moan.

“Fuck, Adalyn, what are you doing?”

I don’t answer him, instead, I say, “See you Saturday night.”

Hanging up, I toss the phone to the side and start moving my fingers through my slit, pressing down on my clit, letting the built-up tension in my body slowly ease. Spreading my legs wider, I sink into the pillow just as my phone buzzes next to me.

Knowing exactly who it is, I take a moment to read his text.

Hayden: I swear to God, if you’re pleasuring yourself right now, I might not be able to control myself on Saturday.

Smiling, I talk to text.

Adalyn: Good thing I’m not telling you what I’m doing right now.

He responds immediately.

Hayden: Send me a picture.

Adalyn: Never. Night, Hayden.

Hayden: You’re mine, Adalyn. And I’ll be sure to show you that Saturday.

With those last words read, I lean on the memory of his chiseled body above mine, his sexy voice rattling through my ear, and bring myself to orgasm for the first time since I’ve been without Hayden.

And oh my God, was that much needed.