I adjust the pillow behind me until I'm sitting in a more comfortable position and lean back against it, rubbing a hand over my little baby bump. I'm halfway through month four of my pregnancy now and there have been drastic changes since the first trimester. Although I'm ecstatic that my morning sickness is gone, I can't say I'm happy about back pains and dizziness that have taken its place. It seems that I can't go a day without a headache and I have to take it easy on the medicinal tablets too so I'm left sucking it up. Giving up coffee sucks, too. I know I'm allowed one cup a day but I typically drink two and I didn't realize how much I depended on them until I couldn't have them anymore. Not to mention that my cravings have been out of control. I swear I'll eat anything that's in front of me, edible or not. The other day I ate plantains and enjoyed them. I hate bananas. It must be my baby's preference. And the kicker of it all:

I am constantly horny. Constantly.

I've never been an overtly sexual person or even just regularly sexual but I've somehow turned into an orgasm addict this past month. It's embarrassing how often I use my vibrator these days. I was horrified when Avery got me one for my birthday—that was several months ago before I'd ever even had an orgasm and Avery decided she needed to save me from what I was "missing out on"—and I'd left it packed for a long time. It wasn't until I was dating Chris and he wasn't always able to bring me to climax that I finally put it to use and realized I was, in fact, missing out. And now my pregnancy hormones are spinning out of control and that vibrator has been my only saving grace. If Avery knew about any of this she might just pass out with joy. To this day she asks me if I use it and if I've named it yet. I'm not sure which question is more embarrassing.

I seem to have a knack for torturing myself, too. I've been reading every raunchy book I can think of and using them to get me in the "mood." Right now is no different. With an enormous pile of pillows stacked against my back and under my bum, I have my legs stretched out as I half-lay back comfortably with a book in my hands. I even bookmarked the hottest sex scene in here. I'd be ridiculously embarrassed but I got over my shame weeks ago. Now, I've just accepted that my body is constantly demanding release and I've got to meet it all the way. Thank goodness all of this started after I moved out. I can't imagine doing any of this while sharing a house that Jaxon and Emily live in. And my Mom. Yikes.

I take the bookmark out of its place and skim my eyes over the pages until I find what I'm looking for. I can feel my cheeks warm up when I start reading the words. This scene is as sexual as it gets and I don't think I've read anything more dirty than this. The chemistry between the two characters feels so real that I can literally feel the tips of my fingers tingle. The main guy is the perfect combination of sweet but aggressive and the main girl is unashamedly confident. The two of them together are an explosive match and you can feel their lust sizzle off the pages. My breathing picks up as I read about the man cupping the woman's breast with one hand while the other travels down between her legs. Without thought, I part my own legs slightly and let my hand snake downward too. Even over my sleep shorts, I can feel how damp I am. He begins to stroke the woman and I begin to stroke myself. His thumb presses down on her clit and mine does exactly the same. His lip suck reverently on her neck and I close my eyes briefly, imagining a warm mouth travelling over me and liquefying my bones with their tenderness.

My chests rises and falls faster now and my hand picks up the pace, my mind going into overdrive as I start to imagine strong hands around my waist and going up, up, up until they're both cupping my breasts. Large thumbs flick over my erect nipples and I try to recall the sensation that brings. I always did have sensitive breasts. I imagine a talented mouth wrapping around one of the nipples and sucking slightly, with just enough pressure that it feels good but doesn't hurt, and a soft moan gets caught in my throat. I press my heel into my clit and rub downwards in circular motions. This is way more effective than using my fingers. I can thank Google for that. I add more pressure and rub harder, feeling myself growing wet as a familiar tension starts in my tummy. My pulse throbs violently and my lips part on their own accord, the sound of my hard but quiet breathing filling up the empty space of my room. Oh God, I think I'm close. I fight to keep the image burned in my mind so I can use it to take me all the way and I—

A knock on the front door makes me yelp and jerk my hand away from my body like I've been burned. I hold it to my chest as I listen closely, wondering if I heard wrong. Please, please, please let me have heard wrong. A few seconds of silence tick by where I don't hear anything so I slowly put the bookmark back in place and hug the book to myself protectively. I start to wonder if maybe I was hearing things but then I hear it again. It's unmistakable. Someone's at my front door.

"Oh, Jesus." I fumble to get myself together. I tug down my tank top that had somehow ridden up to expose my bra when I was...experimenting and adjust it so that it covers all of the goods. I get on my feet and brush my free hand through my hair, matting it down so it doesn't look like bedhead and give me away. I can't do anything about my probably flushed face so I prepare an excuse of me working out in case my visitor asks. On that note, who could it be? It's past midnight on a Friday and everyone I know has plans. Jaxon and Emily are staying in with their kids, the Fighter's Den boys are gone for drinks after Cameron's win from today's match, and my Mom is most likely asleep. It could be Avery, I guess. A stupid part of me briefly wonders if it's Chris and I banish the thought immediately. How would he know where I live? Besides, it's clear he wants nothing to do with me or the baby. I'm so damn pathetic.

"Coming!" I call out when I hear a third knock. I walk to the front door while mumbling under my breath, "Actually, I never got the chance."

Pregnant me can be real snarky, so I've learned.

When I get to the front door, I take a look through the peephole first. No way am I opening this door without checking first, especially at this hour. Except I can't see anyone out there and my lips tip downward in confusion. For a moment I have the insane thought that it's my mother and she knows what I'm doing and is trying to catch me in the act. Not cool.

"Who is it?" I ask and hope my voice sounds stern instead of like a pregnant woman living alone. I don't know how but I swear people can just tell.

"It's me." A deep voice answers in return and my stomach bottoms out. Oh, crap.

It's Nate. Freaking Nate.

Because apparently my life didn't suck enough. Why does this always happen to me?

I contemplate making a run for it or not answering at all but he knows I'm home now and if I don't respond he'll probably try to break in, thinking something happened to me. He'd succeed too. I groan and smack a hand over my eyes.

"Are you kidding me?" I mutter into my face-palm. Now I really hope my face doesn't give anything away but that's just wishful thinking because even now, the idea of Nate catching me at such an inappropriate time has my face flaming tenfold.

"You okay?" His voice sounds closer now and I instinctively take a step back. I can't be around him after what I was just doing. What the hell am I going to do?

"I'm okay. I was just...asleep." I'm grateful he can't see my face because it's probably totally giving away the fact that I'm lying. I clear my throat and force the words out. "Did you need something?"

There's a pause and I bite down on my lip as I wait for his answer. I already feel like a total jerk for that but my humiliation seems to be winning over need to spare his feelings. I almost think he won't answer but then I hear him clearing his throat too. "No, I'm fine. I...uh...I brought you grilled cheese sandwiches from that restaurant you love because you mentioned you were craving them this morning. Should I leave them at the door?"

That's right. I did tell him I was craving grilled cheese when I bumped into him at the elevators and he asked me why I looked so down. My car broke down yesterday and is in the repair shop so I couldn't drive to go get them and I'd told him that. That meant he drove there himself to get them for me. Aw, damn it. My heart totally melts as guilt tightens my throat and I seem to forget all about my humiliation. Time and time again, he continues to do the sweetest things for me and makes it so freaking hard to keep my distance. I unlock the door and throw it open, launching myself at him when I see him. He stumbles back a step, clearly not expecting that. That would make two of us.

"Thank you." I whisper and pull away before he has the chance to return the gesture. I wrap my arms around my stomach as I take a couple of steps back, bristling at the curious look he's giving me. "Um, I really love grilled cheese." I explain lamely.

The confusion on his face is replaced with something else entirely and he chews on the corner of his lip, shoulders shaking slightly. He's probably trying not to laugh at me and I guess I should feel offended but I'm too busy trying not to ogle how kissable his mouth looks right now. And then I think about kissing him which turns into the image of him doing to me what I was doing to myself moments ago and I think I might pass out from embarrassment. My entire body feels hot and jittery and I turn around before he can decipher why I was looking at him like that.

"Come in." I tell him a little breathlessly. There's no way he missed the change in my voice. This just keeps getting better.

"You sure you're okay?" I can hear him following me.

"Yup." I stop at the dining table and adjust the chairs before turning around. I gasp lightly when I'm suddenly face-to-face with him as he smiles down at me. Scratch that, smirks down at me. O-kay. "W-why are you looking at me like that?"

"I don't know." He mumbles and his eyes do a slow once-over of me. I'm aware that my pyjamas don't exactly leave much to the imagination and I suddenly break out in goosebumps as I become hyper aware of myself. I can't even cross my arms over myself self-consciously because that's how close he's standing. My pulse thrums when he tilts his head, biting the inside of his cheek. "Just wondering something."

He steps away then and walks around me so he can place the plastic bag on the table, shifting his attention to getting the food out. For a moment I'm stuck in place and staring at nothing in particular because all I can think is he knows. I don't know how but he really does know what I was just doing. I should have sent him away when I had the chance. Why did I cave so easily?

"You joining me?" He asks when I still don't turn around. Is it just me or did his voice get deeper? I squeeze my eyes shut and scold myself to get it together before spinning on my heel and walking over to him. I sit on the seat closest to me, which happens to put my right across from him, immediately going for the sandwich in the takeout box and not meeting his eyes. I stuff half of it into my mouth and hope the sandwich is big enough to shield my face.

"Is this the first meal you've had today?" He teases, watching me eat and leaving his sandwich untouched.

I swallow the bite in my mouth, still refusing to look at him. "I lost count of which meal of the day this is. I've been eating like a horse all week."

"That's way better than starving because of morning sickness."

"Except I'm probably going to put on a hundred pounds by the end of this pregnancy. Pick your poison, I guess."

"The healthier you are, the healthier the baby is when it gets here. I say stack on all the pounds you want."

"Oh, sure. And getting rid of them will be just as easy." I deadpan.

"I see your point." He chuckles. "I could always make a workout plan for you, if that's your thing."

"It's totally my thing." I scoff, remembering the excuse I had planned. Nerves make it tumble out even though I didn't mean to. "I was just working out before you got here. That's why my face is all red, if you noticed."

Smooth.

I want to slap myself as soon as the words come out and it doesn't help matters that Nate's smirk is back. "That so? I thought you were sleeping?"

And this is why I don't lie.

"Yes." I start and pretend to wipe my mouth off so I can buy myself some time. I reach for another sandwich and pick at it so I don't have to look at Nate's stupidly hot face and lose even more brain cells. "I was working out and then I went to sleep."

"And your face managed to stay red?"

"I wasn't asleep for long."

"Interesting." He murmurs and finally reaches for his sandwich, taking a bite. I munch on mine with little nibbles and hope that the subject will change if I don't say anything. His observant eyes fall to the table. "What're you reading?"

Is he for real? Of all the things to talk about.

"A book." I push it out of the way nervously.

"No, really? I thought it was a cat."

I roll my eyes at his sarcasm but it's short-lived when he reaches over and snags the paperback. I try to take it from him but he leans back in his chair and by then it's way out of my reach. In a panic, I question, "What are you doing?"

"Just looking. I've never really been much of a reader but maybe it's because I've been reading the wrong books. Maybe I should read the books you read."

"Or not." I blurt and he raises his brows. "I mean...romance isn't your thing."

"Says who?" His lids drop. "I can be a pretty romantic guy when I want to."

He's right about that and we both know it. I don't say anything as he silently reads the back where the synopsis is written. Why did I bring the book with me? I should have shoved it under the pillows or something. I pick at my sandwich and watch him like a hawk. My appetite is gone now, replaced with an anxiety that makes me want to pull my hair out. I've had enough embarrassment for one day.

"Doesn't sound half-bad." He concedes when he's done reading.

"So far it's good. I'm still in the middle of it, so..." I trail off and reach my hand out as a silent question to have it back.

Of course he doesn't listen. Jerk.

"Where'd you stop?" He thumbs my bookmark and my eyes widen. Holy crap.

"Uh, don't take it out." I wave my hands wildly in a stop it gesture. "Please. I'll lose the page."

"Okay." He shrugs. "I won't take it out."

I almost cry out in relief but then he opens the page my bookmark is on and I want to pass out again.

"Nate..." I warn.

"What?" He blinks innocently. "Is something wrong?"

Oh, he so knows. Somebody kill me.

I sink into my seat and curl my shoulders in as I watch his eyes skim over the page. He throws one arm over the back of the chair and props a leg up on the seat next to him, getting comfortable. His tongue drags along the inside of his cheek as he reads silently and I cover my cheeks with my hands when I feel them growing warm again. He's reading my dirty books. He knows my secret. How the hell am I going to live this down?

"This is...descriptive." His deep rumble finally breaks the silence and I swallow against my suddenly dry mouth. "It's kind of surprising that you read books like this. You've got a bad side huh, Angel?"

I don't say anything so he continues reading. My heart is beating wildly and my palms feel damp with sweat. I've never felt so nervous around him and I've been nervous around him a lot. Part of me wants to make this stop but another part is reluctantly curious about what he's going to say next. The idea that he might not see me as innocent or clueless as he does now is kind of...I don't know...exciting?

"You do any of this?" He eyes drag over from the pages to my face and he regards me with an intensity I've never seen before.

"D-do what?" I stammer even though I know what he means. There's no way I'm answering that question. Why is he even asking? Isn't this a weird thing to do if we're just friends?

"You know," His eyes drop back to the page and to my horror, he starts reading. Out loud. "His hands swiftly undid the button of my jeans and he dragged them down my legs, leaving them tangled at my ankles. I could feel his restlessness practically vibrating off his body when he yanked my panties to the side, his hot mouth latching on to my pussy that was throbbing with need and—"

"Oh my God!" I smack both my hands over my face. Mortification engulfs me until I feel suffocated with it. "I get it. Please stop."

"But I was just getting into it." I don't even have to look at him to know he's grinning at me. I can hear the amusement in his voice. "C'mon, Delilah. Look at me."

Well, crap. He used my full name. How am I supposed to say no to that?

I slowly let my hands drop and meet his eyes. He's grinning like I knew he would be but there's something else in his expression. Something I've never seen before and can't really name. "What?"

"Have you done this before?" He repeats. It's clear he won't let this go.

I go over the pros and cons in my head. On one hand, if I answer him I probably won't be able to look him in the eye ever again or have a conversation with him without thinking of this exact moment. On the other hand, I'm practically drowning in humiliation and I know I won't catch a break until I answer him and not answering him is only dragging this out.

So...

"No." I finally admit.

It's obvious my answer surprises him. His brows go up and he closes the book, pushing it away. It's clearly forgotten now. "How is that possible?"

"I don't know." I whisper. I lean back in my seat as my version of putting some distance between us. "Chris was just never interested in doing that. He told me he wasn't into it."

Nate shakes his head in disbelief. "Every time we talk about him, I find out just how much of a douchebag he is. What the fuck did you see in him, Del? A man that refuses to go down on a woman is not a man."

"Well, how should I know that?" I defend, crossing my arms and feeling defensive. "He was my first everything. When he said that wasn't something he did, I figured it was sexual preference. And it is, you know. If that isn't for him then it's fine."

"Yeah. Fine for a pussy." He scoffs. "And what about in return? I bet he was definitely into having his dick sucked."

I let my head hang forward so my hair can shield my face as another wave of embarrassment hits me. "Not...not that I ever did it but yes, he did tell me he liked that."

There's a couple beats of silence that make me cringe. This is definitely the most humiliating thing I've ever experienced. "What a fucking asshole. I'm glad you didn't give him any of that shit."

"It felt weird." I admit, running my thumb over the white nail polish on my big toe absentmindedly. "I mean, I know I'm inexperienced but I didn't like the idea that he wanted me to do something he wouldn't do for me in return."