Not About Love (This Love Book 2) (31 page)

I’D HAD ENOUGH OF LOOKING
at her without being able to do anything about it.

I had told her I wanted things to be different. I had told her I wanted us to be in a real relationship, but I could tell there was still part of her that didn’t believe me.

It had been a few weeks since I had gotten back to Amsterdam. After I’d told Ally I wanted to be in a real relationship with her, I had moved back in with her. We’d resumed living together like we had before I’d gone to New York. Everything was just as good as before, but I felt that now she was the one holding back.

She had told me she loved me, and instead of opening up to her, I had avoided the conversation altogether. Now, we were filling opposite roles.

I was the one wanting more, and she was the one being careful.

I needed to show her how much I wanted and needed her. It had taken me a month away from her to realize how much.

I didn’t want to hold back any more. I was all in. I knew what I wanted.

I wanted her. I loved her.

It had been so long since I had been in love with someone and done nice things for them. I didn’t even know how to tell her I wanted…
more
.

“Ally, we need to talk.”

“Talk about what?”

“This…between us. I don’t want to do this…
in between
thing any more.” I gestured at the two of us, and she looked worried.

“I thought we were in a relationship,” she said. “At least, that’s what I thought you wanted.”

“Yes, you’re right. I want us to be in a relationship, a serious relationship.”

She looked confused. I wasn’t explaining myself well.

“Okay. Let me write it down,” she joked. “Serious relationship? Check. Living together? Check. Baby on board? Check. Any other requests, Mr. Boyd-Building?” She laughed, and when she raised her eyes to meet mine, I could see she didn’t understand what I was trying to get at. I was doing this all wrong.

“Never mind.” I got up and headed for the door.

“Awww, come on. Boyd, come back! When you say you ‘don’t want to do this any more,’ what do you mean, exactly? Are you backing out? I thought you were going to stay.” She frowned, lips tight. “Are you going back to New York?” How could she even ask that? How could she even think it?

I placed my hands on the edge of her walnut desk and leaned across the surface with my body, my face a few inches away from hers. Her breath hitched.

“No, Bertie. I’m not leaving. I’m staying here. You’re not going to get rid of me, that’s all I’m trying to say.” I gave her a cocky grin, and her eyes lit up. She fought a smile, trying to keep a veil of composure on her face. She lowered her eyes, scribbling on the piece of paper in front of her.

“Oh, really? For how long?” she asked in a playful tone.

“Indefinitely.”

She stopped writing, and her head shot up. My mouth and hers were not even an inch apart. Her blue eyes grew wide, as if I had startled her. She let out a sigh, and her warm breath washed over my face.

“Boyd…are you quoting
Notting Hill?
” she asked with a curious smile.

“Am I…what? What do you mean?”

“Never mind. It’s nothing. It’s stupid,” she replied with a wave of her hand. “I thought you were quoting the movie
Notting Hill
.”

“Right. The movie.” I nodded, pretending I knew what she was talking about, but I was straight-up confused. I had never seen the movie.

“Ally, can you put that down for a moment? I’m trying to say something here.”

“Oh, re-lly?” she joked, faking a British accent. “If this is about the baby’s room, I will not let you paint it yellow. I hate yellow.”

“You do, huh? Well I was thinking gray is a good color, especially if you want to go with a more modern style.”

She pointed her finger at me. “Bingo! Yes! Gray! Bravo! That’s a go, Mr. Rivers. I love the way you think.”

“You do, huh?” I said seductively. Would she love the other things I was thinking about? I sat back in the chair and took my head in my hands. I was bad at this. I could get my point across just fine if it was a matter of business, but when it came to relationships, I got all tongue-tied. Why was I so bad? It should have been a simple speech to make.

I love you. I want you. I want to build a life with you. I want us to be a family.

“Boyd, are you okay?” She frowned.

“Peachy.”

She stopped and looked at me, then started rubbing her belly and smiled.

“What is it? Are you okay? Is the baby kicking again?”

She nodded and bit her lip. I circled the desk and placed my hand on her belly. She took it and placed it where the baby was kicking. I felt my child kick over and over, right under the spot where my hand was.

I couldn’t help but smile. There was nothing quite like this.

“What was that?” I asked her when it stopped. “Was that her foot?”

“Or his elbow,” she replied.

“I bet it was her heel.”

She smiled at me, and I was taken aback by the things her smile did to me. It filled me with love and made me feel a kind of happiness I had never experienced before. She had always been beautiful, but now she was stunning—she definitely had that pregnancy glow everyone always talked about. Her skin was luminous, her eyes brighter and happier…but maybe I was just biased and thought she was prettier because she was carrying my child. She complained all the time that she had gotten too big, but she was growing a freaking human. Her features had softened, and her boobs had gotten even bigger. If I could have had my way with her, I would have motor-boated the hell out of those boobs, all damn day.

“Boyd, are you staring at my boobs?” she teased.

I hung my head in shame and let out a loud breath. “You got me. Sorry, I can’t help it. To be fair, they were calling my name.”

“Uh-huh,” she replied, raising her eyebrows. “Sure. My boobs were calling to you.
Boooyyyyd, Booooyyyd,
” she joked, squeezing them together.

“Sweetheart, don’t do that unless you want me to get a hard-on, rip those clothes off of you, and fuck you right here on this desk,” I growled.

“Ahhh, just like old times. Can I take a raincheck on the clothes ripping, though? I really need to get some stuff finished. You can do the ripping tonight, deal?”

“Deal,” I replied, my mouth curling into a grin.

I wanted to kiss her and shut her mouth up so bad. I wanted to let her know how much loved her. It was time to make Ally understand what my intentions were.

“You promise there will be clothes ripping tonight?”

“Yessssss, your honor,” she moaned. Her fake moans didn’t help at all, and I had to think of dead kitties to get my dick to go down.

“You’re not helping, woman. All right, I’m leaving.”

I got up and headed for the door.

“Boyd, don’t forget—”

I walked back and leaned on the door frame. “Don’t worry, Red, I’ll come later and we’ll go to the prenatal class, okay?”

As soon as I stepped out of Ally’s house, I dialed the number of the first person I could think of.

“Helga? It’s Boyd. I need your help.”

When I mentioned the movie to Helga, she suggested I watch it. I Googled it and found the scene Ally was talking about, but Helga made me watch the whole movie.

I watched it three times.

I rewound the ending almost ten times.

It gave me an idea, and now I just needed help executing it.

I knew what to do now. If I wanted her back, I needed to do something that made her understand I was all in. I had to do something that was completely unlike me.

I needed a grand gesture.

Helga seemed to be all for it, but what she didn’t seem to understand was that grand gestures can go both ways. They can turn out epic, or incredibly wrong.

It was going to be romantic and sincere.

I was going to show Ally how serious I was about us.

* * *

“We’re going to have a baby shower for the two of you. Ella told me that’s what Americans do,” Helga said in her Dutch accent one night over dinner. It was all part of the plan.

“You don’t have to throw us a baby shower!” Ally protested. She glanced at me, looking for support, and I nodded.

“Yeah, Helga. You don’t have to. I mean, it’s very sweet, but it’s not necessary. Ally and I certainly don’t need help with baby stuff. We don’t want to inconvenience anyone.”

“That’s right!” Ally chimed in.

“Nonsense! We’re having this baby shower to celebrate your soon-to-be-born child. I want to have an American baby shower, and you two are not going to stop me!” Helga said in a stern tone. Ally glared at her.

“How could you do this to me? You, my oldest friend! You have to know I’m the last person who’d enjoy that kind of thing. Why do you want to drag me into this?”

“Oh, please! You know how much I love babies and how much I wanted to have kids. I was blessed with one, but I would have loved to have more. Do you know how happy I am you’re getting to experience motherhood? Do you know how much I’m going to love this child? Do you know I’ll love it as my own?” Helga said, getting choked up.

I knew this was all a ploy to lure Ally in, but damn. She was even making me emotional.

Neither my brother or Ally had told me about Helga and Johan’s struggle to conceive. I always thought they were just fine having one and didn’t wish for more.

Helga knew how to strike, obviously. Her words had the desired effect.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” Ally gave in and stood up to embrace her. They both sighed and teared up.

Johan, who had been quietly witnessing the whole exchange, raised his glass and clinked it against mine. He was in on the plan, too. Ally released Helga and let out a long sigh. She wiped her tears and tilted her head backward, surrendering.

“You win. You can throw me a baby shower, but no stupid baby shower games or I’ll walk out—mark my words.”

THE DAY OF THE DREADED
baby shower was upon me.

I wanted to make Helga happy, but I hated to be the center of attention, and I hated to be celebrated. I had found the cutest maxi-dress just in time—thank God for online shopping. It was black, and from the right angle, I looked like I was just severely bloated, which was a total win for a pregnant lady. The dress had a deep V-neck that made my boobs look amazing, and the turquoise necklace I was wearing enhanced the blue of my eyes.

I almost wished Boyd was around. He had left earlier that day, and I’d forgotten to ask him when I’d see him again.

Hey, do you want to get together for dinner? I’m wearing a dress I think you might like…very much.

I took a selfie, and I sent it to him.

I remember there was a time I couldn’t beg enough to get a picture of your titties.

Perks of being in a “relationship”, my friend.

He replied with a winky emoticon.

So, dinner?

I waited several minutes for his next text to appear, but all I saw was the ellipses forming over and over.