Falling For My Trainers

~60~ Decorative

**unedited**
*time skip: 1 month*

Today is the day of the baby shower and I don't know who's more nervous—Peyton or me. 

Don't get me wrong, we're both excited, obviously, but we have no fucking idea how any of this shit works.

"Where are the plates? We can't eat if there aren't plates!" Peyton says breathlessly as she waddles through the house.

She finally stops walking to catch her breath, and I swiftly approach her. I hug her from behind and rest my cheek on the top of her head and I start swaying us back and forth. I know how much she likes when I snuggle against her.

Right as we fell into a rhythm and I got comfortable, she pulled away from me and turns around to look at me. "Jacob, as much as I'm loving this, I need to pee. And find the damn plates."

"Well pee and then come back. Your mom and Marley have this handled. You need to sit down and rest."

She angrily stomps to the bathroom and talks to me through the door, "If I rest, will you rest with me?" I silently chuckle at her before replying with yes. 

I hear the water shut off and she dramatically opens the door, just to find her tightly wrapping her arms around my waist. "Peyton?" It's a little hard to hug her now that her stomach is in the way, but we somehow make it work.

"Jacob."

"Are your hands still wet?" She doesn't respond, just leaving me with the assumption that her soaking-wet hands are leaving a wet mark on the back of my shirt.

 I pull away from her and lightly rest my hands on her shoulders. "No for real though, why are your hands wet?"

"My mom is washing the hand towels and I forgot to put paper towels in there in the meantime." I nod my head and turn to walk to the couch, expecting Peyton to follow me, but instead, she's frantically waddling around the house in search of her mom.

"Mom? Mom!"

"Peyton, come sit down."

"No, I need my mom." She cried frantically. I have no idea what she's panicking over.

I finally get a hold of her hand and I pull her towards me. "What's wrong?" When her eyes lock with mine, they fill with tears and she just starts breaking down into tears.

I walk her back to the couch and sit down with her and she sobs into my shoulder until she can catch her breath long enough to tell me what's wrong. "I'm not really sure why I'm crying. I'm just scared we won't have anything done in time."

"Want something to take your mind off worrying?"

"Yes, Please!"

"How about we find something for us to wear and I can help you with your makeup."

She sits and contemplates it for a moment and then she jumps up off the couch and makes a beeline for the stairs. Well, the fastest that she can, considering she has a 6-pound-almost 7-pound- baby inside of her. "I'll beat you up there!"

I don't even try to run after her. I just slowly walk to the stairs and by the time I'm halfway up the stairs, Peyton is at the top whining for me to hurry up.

And out of nowhere I decide to dart up the stairs and beat her to our bedroom, slamming the door shut in her face and locking it.  I hear her groan loudly before I hear footsteps fade down the hall.

I unlock the door and open it slightly, not expecting Peyton, but low and behold, the moment I open the door, she pushes past me and lays on the bed. "Marley's dying her hair in the bathroom right now." She says, sighing as I lay next to her.