"It's unfair, isn't it?"

Unfair that I'm twenty-six and I'm thinking about the cubic feet of a backseat in terms of car seats and diaper bags instead of sex? Yes. Yes, it is unfair. I sorta doubt that's what Kyle is referring to though, so I turn to face him as he backs out of the parking space. "What's unfair?"

"That you have to do everything."

Hmm, that is unfair. "Go on," I tell him. He really is very attractive. And so much less annoying today than he was yesterday. Plus my overactive hormones are only getting more overactive the more time I spend with him. Seriously, this has got to be the most fucked-up side effect of pregnancy, ever.

"It hardly seems fair that all I contributed to this pregnancy was an orgasm while you're giving up coffee and vomiting and getting covered in goo and gaining fifty pounds."

"Fifty! I've gained like two pounds since you saw me last!"

"I meant total." He shrugs his hands on the steering wheel like that is any better.

"I'm not gaining fifty pounds." I cross my arms across my chest and glare out the passenger window. At least I don't think I am. Right? Fifty sounds like a lot. What if it's more? I really need to start reading ahead in that damn book. I've been so sidetracked from the random bouts of nausea, hiding it from my sister while also convincing her to do the tour in my place while I also brainstormed ideas for getting hold of Kyle, that time has really gotten away from me.

"I misspoke. I'm sure it's not fifty." Kyle's dropped his tone to a very soothing level, as if I'm a feral cat that needs calming. He's so annoying.

"You've seen the size of Tubbs," I point out. "He's ginormous and he weighs seventeen pounds so I'll probably gain less than that. Seventeen must be the maximum possible."

"Okay." He glances at me sideways. "Sure."

"Or maybe less. Tubbs is the size of two normal-sized cats and I'm only having the one baby."

"Okay, relax. I'm not trying to stress you out. I was merely apologizing for biology."

"Hmm," I hum noncommittally. Apparently being vague and moody is who I am now, which is annoying because I used to be even-keeled. Really. Ask anyone. It's why I had to go on the dick diet in the first place. My easy-going nature and have-fun attitude got me into all sorts of fun jams because easy-going people are fun. And low-maintenance.

Now I'm moody and I grunt answers. It wasn't exactly what I was going for when I decided to level up in adulting.

"I'll gain fifty pounds with you, if you want," Kyle offers, bringing my attention back to him.

"Okay, let's not do anything hasty," I say quickly while looking him over. Have I mentioned that he's wearing the hell out of that suit? Objectifying him throughout my pregnancy is kinda like a door prize, right? Staying pretty is the least he can do for me.

Assuming I'm going to be seeing him throughout my pregnancy, that is.

But you know, I bet I could be the responsible twin if I really set my mind to it. And what's more responsible than marrying your baby daddy? I mean, other than not having a baby daddy in the first place, but that ship has sailed.

"Just tell me one thing, Kyle."

"Sure."

"You didn't do this on purpose, right? Knock me up?"

"What?" He glances at me quickly then gets his eyes back to the road. "God, no. Daisy, no. Of course not. Trust me, I had a plan for the next five years of my life and this wasn't it."

"So it was an accident, right? All of it? I was just a fling you were never supposed to see again?"

He pauses for a moment before asking, "What are you getting at, exactly?"

"I don't know," I admit. "I guess I just wanted to hear you say you're not a crazy person who tracked me down to impregnate me, but it was a stupid question. Why on earth would you impregnate some random girl on purpose? Never mind."

He pauses for a long second. "I don't like the word ‘accident,’ but no, it wasn't intentional."

"Okay. So knocking me up was an accident. Did you steal my camera by accident too?"

"Do we really need to talk about this? I gave it back. And stop saying ‘knocked up.’ It's disrespectful."

"Disrespectful to who? You did knock me up. Would you prefer I spend the remainder of this pregnancy referring to the incident as the time you inseminated me?"

"It's disrespectful to you, and no, I don't prefer that description. I'm sure you can think of something more appropriate. You're quite wordy."

"Wow. Way to lay on the charm, Kyle."

"Christ." He takes a hand off the wheel to rub at the back of his neck. "I meant you're good with words. You blog. You enjoy writing. You're creative and intelligent and funny. You can do better than referring to yourself like you were my accidental sidepiece."

Huh.

"Besides," he adds, "you're the one who stalked me."

"Only because you begat me with child."

"For fuck’s sake," Kyle mutters. He tries to hide it as an exhale, but I still hear him.

"I'm not normally a stalker, just so you know. You'd never have heard from me again if you hadn't accidentally spread your seed in my womb."

"You've made that painfully clear." His jaw twitches a bit. He's slipped on a pair of sunglasses to block the glare of the sun and he's focused on driving so I can't quite get a read on him but I like the jaw thing. It's kind of a clench. He needs to relax.

"Just tell me one more thing."

"Okay," he agrees, but he seems to be bracing himself for whatever the one more thing is.

"Do you have rental insurance?"

We've come to a stoplight so he turns to look at me, eyes still hidden by the sunglasses. "Rental insurance?" he deadpans in reply.

"I'm just trying to make sure you're the kind of guy who has insurance. It was on my vision board for the kind of man I should be with when I went on the dick diet."

He stares at me and I have no idea what he's thinking.

He's still staring at me when the light turns green and the car behind us honks in irritation.

11

Daisy

"Be ready by six," Kyle says as he drops me off at his condo. He's dropping me at his place because I basically live there now since he escorted me back to the hotel to pack up my things. I went along with it because I like Tubbs and I figured it wouldn't hurt to spend a little time with Kyle while I'm in town for the conference.

Also Kyle's place is nicer than the hotel.

But that's it. Those are the only reasons.

"Ready for what?" I ask, hand on the door handle ready to hop out of his SUV.

"Dinner."

"Whoa." I drop my hand from the door and turn to him. "Like you want me to have dinner on the table by six? That's really sexist, Kyle. Just because you put an imaginary ring on it and put a bun in my oven doesn't mean I'm going to quit my job and spend my days cleaning and putting dinner on the table every night at six like a 1950s housewife, just so you know. And I'm not ironing your shirts. I might make cookies every once in a while, though. If I stay. Which is still an if."