Won't Go Slowly

Part 41

You thought you had a pretty good understanding of Tyler. You were pretty sure you could knew what he was thinking, but he was being weird.

Incredibly weird.

"What are you wearing tonight?" he asked, while you were in the pool. Again.

"Why does it matter what I wear to your hockey game?"

"It doesn't matter," he said, emphasizing the word, sitting down on the lounge chair you'd be in earlier, flipping through the magazine you'd left. "I was just wondering."

"Well, I don't know, Tyler, I haven't decided yet."

Now he looked up from the parenting magazine he'd been flipping through just for something to do, clearly not reading it. "Can you wear the blue dress? The one you wore when we went to the park?"

"Sure," you said hesitantly, "but why am I wearing that?"

"Because I like it," he said, matter-of-factly, "And we're going out for dinner after, remember?"

"Yeah, well I was going to put something on other than this," you said, gesturing down towards your body in the water.

Tyler smirked at yohau. "I'd hope so, because your nipple is showing again."

You looked down automatically, only to see that were breasts were as contained in the swimsuit as they could possibly be, Tyler's laughter ringing out through the backyard, and the dogs all looked over at the loud noise. "That's not funny."

"It's pretty funny," he said, "This is actually what I should put on my Instagram."

"Don't you dare," you said, as soon as he made a move like he was going to pull his phone out.

"I wouldn't," he said rather seriously, and then smiled, "In fact, I'd suggest you just lose the bikini all together, but I don't want your lady bits to get burnt."

"Thanks," you said sarcastically, occupied yourself with throwing the ball for the dogs again.

"You're welcome, I'm just always looking out for you, you know," he said, and you swam over to the side, thinking you should probably get out soon, before you turned into a complete prune. "Do we have any of that pasta you made me left that I could have for lunch?"

"No, but I can make you some more, if you want?"

"Really?" he asked hopefully, running his hand over his beard, "Because I really think it helped me play better."

You laughed, because you were certain that it absolutely did not. "Yeah, I just need to cook some more pasta and make some pesto, it'll take me, like, 15 minutes."

"Good," Tyler said, "I need to do everything like I did last game."

"Since when are you so superstitious?"

"I'm not, it's an earlier game, it's different."

It turns out, it was different, because you now had to have pre-game in his bedroom rather on the couch, which turned into moving into the bathroom so you had another door to close between you and the dogs crying at the bedroom door.

However, his strategy of repeating everything seemed to have worked, because they one again, a fact which he was quick to point out to you when you say him after the game. And, you smiled because you were supposed to but, deep down, you felt a little disappointed and guilty for feeling that way. Because every win meant they were one step closer to the playoffs, which meant he was moving one step further from being home and getting to be there when the baby arrived. And you realized you really, really wanted him to be with when the baby was born, not even because of what a special moment it would be, but because everything seemed easier when he was there.