Page 38

Alex Sebring

The music’s pounding—something bass-heavy and angry—and I’m drenched in sweat, halfway through a brutal set when I sense movement in the doorway.

I glance up between reps—and there she is.

Jeans. A plain white T-shirt. Ponytail.

No makeup. No fanfare. Just Magnolia in her natural state, and somehow, it guts me every time.

She looks like Sunday mornings and forever plans. The type of woman who could knock the wind out of you without even trying.

She leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, a faint smile tugging at her mouth. I rack the bar and tug one earbud free.

“Careful,” she says. “If you keep looking like that, I might forget what I came in here to say.”

“Then come sit on my lap and remember slowly.”

I grab a towel, swipe the back of my neck, and pat the bench beside me.

She doesn’t sit beside me. She straddles me instead—knees bracketing my thighs, arms sliding around my neck.

My hands find her waist on instinct, fingers curling into her T-shirt like they’ve missed her—which is insane, considering it’s only been a few hours since I saw her.

“What’s going on?” I ask, heart already thudding.

She leans in close, mouth brushing my ear. “I saw my OB-GYN today.”

Everything stills.

The sweat, the soreness, the music humming low behind us—it all fades.

“And?” My voice is rougher than I mean it to be.

She pulls back, eyes glittering. “No more IUD.”

The words hit like a flare straight to the chest. My grip tightens. My brain short-circuits.

“Wait… really?”

She nods. “ Really really.”

I stare at her, stunned stupid. We’d talked about this—late-night whispers, a hopefully someday, a dreamy sort of what-if. But now she’s here in my arms, saying it for real. We’re not daydreaming about it anymore.

It undoes something in me, quietly and completely. And all I can think is—this is it. This is the start.

I cup the back of her neck and kiss her—slow, deep, reverent.

When I pull back, my voice is rough. “So we’re doing this?”

“We are definitely doing this,” she says. “But there’s a catch.”

“Of course there is,” I say, grinning. “What is it?”

“Math,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “If we get pregnant now, the baby comes before the season ends. And I want the birth to land at the start of the off-season.”

I nod, understanding. “Makes sense. But just so we’re clear—if that timeline shifts, you and the baby still get me. All of me. No matter what.”

She leans her forehead against mine, eyes soft. “There’s more.”

Her expression shifts, lips twitching like she’s trying not to smile. “Because we want the baby to come after the season, we need to practice abstinence for now.”

I blink. Abstinence?

I sit back, searching her face. “I’m sorry—what?”

“Full-on abstinence. No slipping up. No accidents. We’ll have to sleep in separate beds. Possibly even different rooms.”

I narrow my eyes. “No way in hell I’m doing that.”

She doesn’t crack. Not at first. Then one corner of her mouth curves, and the rest follows. “God, you’re so easy.”

I groan and let my head fall back against the wall. “You’re evil.”

“You love it.”

I tug her closer, hands sliding beneath the hem of her shirt, palms settling on warm skin. “I love you .”

She laughs, quick and bright, then kisses me soft and fast. “I love you too.”

“So, what’s the actual plan? Because I know you have one.”

She grins. “We only have to avoid getting pregnant for one month. One . That puts us in the sweet spot for an off-season baby.” She leans in close, eyes dancing with mischief. “How strong is your pull-out game?”

I arch a brow. “Stronger than my abstinence game, that’s for damn sure.”

“Condoms?”

I shake my head. “Absolutely not. I’ve been inside you bare—we can never go back to shrink-wrapped sex.”

She grins. “Okay. I guess we’ll go with the rhythm method. Pull out, avoid sex when I’m ovulating. My doctor said the failure rate isn’t too high when you do it right.”

That sounds like a very sexy math problem. “Okay, but what happens when it’s your fertile time of the month and I want to fuck you six ways from Sunday?”

She leans in, mouth brushing mine, eyes full of heat. “We’ll get creative.”

God help me, I love this woman.

“Alex… can we keep this between us for now? I’m not looking for advice or questions—or anyone else’s version of what’s right. Just want this to be something for us.”

I press a kiss to her temple, steady and sure. “It stays with us.”

She’s quiet for a beat, her fingers tracing idle patterns across my back. “There’s no guarantee this’ll happen on our timeline. My body might not cooperate. I need us to be okay if it takes longer or if it doesn’t go the way we pictured.”

I run my hand down her spine. “We’ll pivot if we need to. If it takes longer, we wait. If it goes sideways, we love each other through it.”

Her breath catches, and she kisses me—slow and deep. A kiss that tastes like a promise and a challenge all at once.

When she pulls back, I’m already chasing her mouth for more.

“This,” I murmur against her lips, “is the hottest secret we’ve ever kept.”

She shifts in my lap, her body sliding against mine in a way that does not help my self-control.

“Better come up with a few new workout routines,” she whispers, voice thick with amusement. “You’re gonna need the distraction this month.”

“Oh, I’ve got one distraction in mind already,” I say, catching her mouth with mine again. “You need to increase your pineapple intake.”

She melts into the kiss before pulling back and smiling. “Pineapple, huh? I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

I grin, brushing a thumb across her cheek. “Good. Because I won’t mind either.”

She kisses me back, soft this time. Lingering. When she pulls away, her forehead rests against mine, and her voice is barely a breath. “We’re gonna be parents, Alex.”

“Yeah,” I whisper, brushing her hair behind her ear. “We are.”

She’s quiet for a second, then adds, “I hope the baby looks like you.”

I smile, heart catching in my chest, because we’re talking about a child that could enter our lives soon.

“But… I also hope he’s not a giant like his daddy who’ll rip me in half on the way out.”

I wince. “Jesus, favorite. I could’ve gone my whole life without thinking about that.”

She grins. “One request. Can you please put a smaller kid inside me?”

We both dissolve into laughter, hers muffled against my neck, mine rumbling in my chest like I don’t know how to hold in all this joy. “I’ll do my best, babe.”

Maybe it’s not a big announcement. Maybe it’s not fireworks or a marked date on the calendar. But it’s our secret. And that makes it everything in my book.