His Baby (R.S.L)

Chapter 8

Selling my apartment proved to be easier than expected, many people interested in it once it was on the market. It wasn't even two weeks later that I received an offer, a good one at that, and accepted it. It felt weird to be moving out of the apartment that I had been living in for over four years, but I was excited to live with Ross.  

I had to be out of my apartment pretty quickly, so Ross, with the help of his brothers, helped me pack up all my belongings and move it to his apartment. Ross being the overprotective best friend and dad, barely let me lift a single thing, claiming that me and the baby could get hurt. The moment I tried to open my mouth and tell him I was perfectly fine to help, he shut me up and forced me to sit. 

It was sweet and annoying at the same time. 

I appreciated his protective nature, but I didn't want him thinking I couldn't do anything. I was pregnant, not dying. Sitting around until this baby was born was not gonna happen. I would be resting towards the end of my pregnancy, but for now I could still be active. 

The boys worked well into the night, driving all be belongings over to Ross' apartment. It was weird seeing my apartment so empty, except for the appliances I obviously had to leave behind, and I couldn't help but get a little emotional. I blamed it on the pregnancy hormones. 

Ross had completely cleared out the spare bedroom I would be living in, removing anything he kept inside. I was surprised to find no dust or debris, knowing very well that he hated to clean. Yet he managed to make it look spotless. 

"I was going to paint the room, but I wasn't sure what color you'd want." Ross said, coming up behind me as I looked around the empty bedroom. 

"I think blue's gonna have to be the color now," I chuckled slightly, turning around to face him. "I can't believe you did all this."

He shrugged, as if it were no big deal. "You're my best friend, Riles. And the mother of my baby. I wanted you to have the best."

"Even if that means cleaning?" I teased. 

"Even if that means cleaning," he confirmed, chuckling as he wrapped me in a hug. "I'm so glad you're moving in with me, Riles."

I tilted my head up to look at him. "Sure you're not gonna get sick of me?"

"Never," he answered honestly. His eyes showed no teasing, just seriousness. "When you agreed to move in with me, it was like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I couldn't stop myself from worrying about you everyday."

"You know I would've called if something happened," I assured him, trying to ease his worries. 

"But what if you couldn't," he countered. "What if you fell and couldn't get up, o-or if you-"

"Hey, hey, stop it." I shook my head, cupping his cheeks in my hand. "Don't think like that, okay? Both me and baby boy are fine," to prove my point, I grabbed his hand and placed it on my stomach. "Thinking of the worst will only drive you crazy. You have nothing to worry about, Ross."

He let out a breath I'm sure he didn't know he was holding, pulling me closer as he rested his chin on the top of my head. "Don't be surprised if I watch you sleep, though."

I had a strong feeling he wasn't kidding. 

My first night in the apartment was spent unpacking, while Ross ordered takeout. I was able to get a good deal of unpacking done, including putting clean bedding on my mattress, before exhaustion set in. I had only put clothes in the closet and not in my dresser since we would have to take everything out of the room once we started painting. 

Now that we knew  we were having a boy, picking out a name became our topic of conversation. It was nice referring the baby as 'he' rather than just monkey, but I knew that nickname would never die. We loved it too much.