Frayed (Connections, #4)(121)

Sweat coats his brow.

I look around the room as I ride the wave out and spot the book with the blue spine. When my gaze swings back to Ben, his eyes are so wide with fear I can almost feel it. I take a step forward but stop again. “Wait, can you bring that book?”

He looks confused but grabs it and shoves it in the bag.

“So you can read to me while we’re in the hospital,” I tell him as we leave the house.

He looks down at me and stops to hold me; then he says, “You’re so f*cking adorable.”

From the car I call my mother and tell her to meet us at the hospital. My insides feel as if they’re twisting inside out at this point. At the hospital I’m quickly whisked to a room, given an IV, and asked if I want an epidural. Ben and I already decided I would take the epidural. My mother and Jack arrive just as it takes effect. Shortly after that River, Dahlia, Ivy, and Xander show up. Ivy is three months pregnant and still experiencing morning sickness morning, noon, and night. They all pop their heads in before going to the waiting room. When the nurse calls the doctor and time approaches, my mother leaves as well. And it’s just Ben and me.

The doctor comes in and I begin pushing. At first I think I might throw up—the pressure I feel everywhere is too intense. But once it subsides, I push again and again. My hand is gripping Ben’s so tightly, but he doesn’t care. He wipes some hair from my eyes and I look up at him and see amazement and wonder on his face. My eyes drop to where his are locked and I see our baby’s head crowning. Intense stinging radiates from my core as I push harder and scream louder. Then just like that, our baby emerges into this world.

His cries are hoarse but steady as if he’s having little tantrums.

“I’ll do that,” Ben says to the doctor as he prepares to cut the cord.

“Can I hold him?” I ask with tears of pure joy leaking from my eyes.

The nurse lays him on my chest for only a brief moment but long enough for me to feel the beat of his heart.

“He has red hair,” Ben says, his voice strained with emotion as he tries to hold back his own tears.

The nurse takes him from me. “The doctor just has to examine him and we will have him right back to you.”

Ben squeezes my hand and presses a kiss to my forehead before he follows her. When he turns around he’s grinning ear to ear, holding our baby bundled in a blue blanket.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, unable to wait another minute.

“He’s perfect,” he says as he crosses back over to me.

I turn away for a brief moment with relief seeping through me to sip on the ice water by my bedside and catch sight of the book Ben had been reading to me just an hour earlier. Ben carefully places our baby on my chest and I study his little face—the shape of his cheeks, the slope of his nose, the fullness of his lips. Suddenly he opens his eyes and lets out a loud cry. That’s when I see his perfect dimples and blue eyes so much like his father’s. With tears of joy I look up at Ben and say, “Finn. Let’s name him Finn.”

Ben’s grin is wider than I have ever seen. “Finn is perfect.” He smiles down, resting his hand over mine. And as my eyes shift from the baby to Ben and back to the baby, I think this has to be the single-most beautiful feeling in the world. It’s a feeling that reaches all the way into my soul and takes my breath away. And it’s a feeling I know will never leave me.

Hours later when I awake, I know Ben is nearby because I can hear the sound of his breathing, but this time my senses are heightened. As my eyes flutter open his soft lips are on mine, and although he is barely skimming them, I can feel the heat that sears me every time he touches me. My eyes lift to see Finn in Ben’s arms. In looking at them together, observing the bliss I see on Ben’s face, I know that what we have isn’t perfect, but it is our own version of perfect. And even though the edges of our relationship may be frayed much like the hem of his shirts, the framework is solid and in the end . . . that’s all that really matters.



See where it all began in



CONNECTED



the first in the Connections Series by Kim Karr!

Available in print and e-book from New American Library.

We walked through the open door to the University of Southern California Campus Bar and Aerie pulled her tail up. “At least they aren’t playing that Halloween crap in here,” she yelled a little too loudly. As my ears adjusted, I heard a velvety-soft voice singing an unfamiliar yet captivating song.

Aerie stopped to put her devil horns on, and I glanced around the large room, recognizing a lot of students, while trying to get a look at the band. I shouted directly into her ear, “They sound really good. Have you heard them before?”

She was on her toes trying to see over the crowd. I laughed at how short she was until her pointy devil horn hit me in the eye. “No, but I love their sound,” she responded, still trying to see the stage and almost falling over.

I had been coming here for the last three years and couldn’t ever remember it being so crowded. I could barely see the long wooden bar to my right, and with the mass of bodies bumping and grinding on the dance floor, I couldn’t even catch a glimpse of the stage.

“Do you know their name?” I asked Aerie.

“I think they’re called the Wilde Ones.” She hiccupped and laughed. She winked at me as she started to dance her way toward some friends on the dance floor and yelled over her shoulder, “By the way, I love them! Great name and an even greater sound.”