The Knocked Up Plan(60)

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Ryder: So it’s a boy? I see his penis.



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Nicole: What??? You cannot tell if the papaya has a penis. No way.



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Ryder: So it’s a girl papaya?



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Nicole: I’m not finding out the sex. I’ve told you!



* * *



Ryder: That’s definitely a penis.



* * *



Nicole: I’m giving you a side-eye glare right now like you’ve never had before. You. Can’t. Tell. I was in the exam room, studying the machine, and I have stared at the photos for hours. You can’t tell the gender unless you’re the doctor, and she knows not to tell me.



* * *



Ryder: You really don’t want to find out?



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Nicole: This is one of the last true surprises in life. You don’t like surprises?



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The word is like a kick in the gut. Surprise! I fucked seven men. Surprise! I’m a sex addict. Surprise! Our marriage was a complete sham.



* * *



Ryder: No. I’m not into surprises.



* * *



I hold the phone, waiting for a response. But it doesn’t come quickly, so I set the cell down and return to the bathroom to rub the towel over my hair. I leave and pull on a pair of boxer briefs. The phone buzzes again.



* * *



Nicole: I can find out the sex for you. Do you want me to?



* * *



I close my eyes, inhale, and let my breath fill me. She is utterly wonderful. She is so good to me. This woman is everything I want, and everything I don’t want to lose again.



* * *



Ryder: I want you to have your surprise.



Ten short and long, miserable and wonderful days later, I’m on a flight back to New York.

I plug in my earbuds, buckle my seatbelt, and toggle through my podcast app. I download the latest episode from Nicole’s radio show, hit play, and close my eyes.

“Who wants to talk about the best positions for sex when you’re pregnant?” Her bold, pretty voice fills my ears. “Anyone? Oh wait. It’s just me. Look, ladies. I know I’m not the only one sporting a belly. With the amount of lovemaking my listeners are doing with their significant others, I’m surprised the whole lot of you aren’t pregnant. But I’ve heard from enough, and it seems my pregnant ladies want to know the best positions for getting busy when they’ve already gotten the busiest.”

I sit up straight, my interest 100 percent piqued.

She’s talking about sex, and this is precisely what our boss wants. Because there’s no mention of getting laid. No talk of hookups. It’s all about intimacy, all about pleasure, and I’m all about how very much I want to give that to her tonight.

I want her to experience an overdose of pleasure.

Especially when a caller says, “Do you find that you’re just constantly horny? The second I walk in the door from work, I pretty much tackle my husband. Oh, and yes, edge of the bed works wonders.”

Nicole laughs. “Edge of the bed. Make a note, ladies. And to answer your first question, yes. A big fat yes.”

Yes. She’s going to be saying that very soon.





Thirty-Two





Nicole

A text arrives when I know Ryder’s flight is landing.



* * *



Ryder: Listened to your show. I’ll be taking care of that issue for you tonight.



* * *



Nicole: What issue would that be?



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Ryder: The one involving constant horniness.



* * *



I’m aroused from the text. I’m aroused from the thought. I’m aroused from being alive. I don’t know if I can wait until he comes over. I try valiantly, knowing how good it’ll be. Sex with Ryder was mind-blowing. I flop down on the couch and let my mind return to memories of hot, sweaty sex. His hands all over me. His mouth everywhere. His gorgeous, glorious cock sliding into me.

And that’s it.

I can’t wait. On the couch, I take matters into my own hands, sliding my fingers up my skirt and inside my panties.

It never takes long these days. I’m on the edge all the time. Four minutes later, I’m there, with his name on my lips and his face in my mind.

Later, my phone rings, letting me know he’s here. I buzz him in. When he reaches my door, I’m ready to jump him. To hump him. To mount him for the rest of the night. I don’t know how we went from no sex since he knocked me up to the certainty that we’re screwing tonight, but it is a fait accompli. I’ll think about what it means later. Right now, it means I’m having him again.

When I open the door, Ruby beats me to it, barking and jumping like a jack-in-the-box. “She’s happy to see you.”

He strokes her head and whispers sweet dog nothings to her, then meets my gaze. “Are you?”