From Teen To Mom

Chapter 13

Greyson and I settled down to enjoy our McDonald's meal while watching a movie. After browsing through his collection, I chose The Lion King.

"I can't believe you picked a kid's movie," he teased, raising an eyebrow at me.

I playfully nudged him. "Hey, you're the one who owns a kid's movie!"

He chuckled. "Well, I have a 4-year-old sister who stays with me a week every summer. It's her favorite movie."

A smile spread across my face. "I think I would like her. It's my favorite movie too," I admitted, gazing at him.

He let out a mock gasp. "Okay, but we are not naming our son Simba," he joked.

I rolled my eyes, playing along. "Of course not. We'll name him Rafiki."

He looked at me with confusion. "Rafiki? Who's that?"

"The monkey!" I exclaimed. Before I could say anything else, a wave of sickness hit me, and I sprinted to the bathroom. I hurled, emptying my stomach of all the French fries, coffee, and burger. He followed closely behind, holding my hair back.

"I don't want you to see this. It's gross," I muttered, feeling mortified.

He looked at me with concern in his warm brown eyes. "We're in this together, Mer," he said gently, squeezing my hand.

I continued to vomit, and he stayed by my side, holding my hair back and making sure none of the mess got anywhere near it. After I finished, I still felt queasy, and my head spun violently. The last thing I wanted was to pass out and end up in the hospital again.

"Do you want to go back to the couch?" Greyson asked softly, his voice filled with sympathy.

"I don't think I can walk," I whispered, clutching my arms around my waist and stomach, desperately trying to steady myself.

His arms wrapped securely around me as he lifted me with ease, cradling me against his chest like a fragile baby. We made our way to the couch, where he gently settled down with me curled up on his lap. A soft blanket was retrieved, cocooning us in warmth and comfort. I nestled into the crook of his neck, closing my eyes and feeling a deep sense of appreciation for his presence.

As we relaxed into the cozy moment, his voice broke the silence, and his words whispered into my hair. "What's that medicine the doctor wanted to give you?"

I took a moment to respond, my voice uncertain. "Zofran. But I don't want to take any pills."

Concern flickered across his face as he mentioned the potential risks. "Zofran has been linked to birth defects. I saw it on TV. I want to find something that can ease your sickness without any dangerous side effects."

I sighed, struggling to find the right words. "Well, pills are not an option for me. During my freshman year, I had a lot going on at school and ended up getting hooked on Adderall and Vicodin. I'm just not comfortable with pills anymore."

His gaze held mine, a mix of understanding. "Okay, hear me out before you say no. I know of something else that might help. Cannabis."

My eyes widened in disbelief, a mix of shock and concern crossing my face. "You want me to use drugs while I'm pregnant? And smoke?"

Quickly, Greyson shook his head, his voice urgent. "No! It's not a drug; it's a medicinal herb. Look up how many people die from cannabis each year. Zero. And you could take edibles."

I shook my head, my voice resolute. "No, I can't even consider that. I'm pregnant, and I don't want to take any risks."

Understanding my hesitation, he sighed. "I just thought it could help with nausea like it does for cancer patients. But I respect your decision."

After finishing The Lion King, he suggested giving me an official tour of his house. Eagerly, he led me to the first room, which revealed a spacious game room decorated with large black leather couches, dart boards, a Foosball table, and an air hockey table. The room showed off impressive speakers and a giant Just Dance system similar to those found in arcades.

Next, we entered his library, a room filled with towering bookshelves, inviting reclining chairs, and plush couches. With a playful grin, Greyson quipped, "Girls dig a guy who reads."

Moving on, we entered a cozy hangout room, complete with comfortable couches and a sizable TV. Greyson referred to it as his smoking room but expressed his willingness to transform it into a baby's room, surprising me yet again with his thoughtfulness.

Curiosity and a tinge of tension-filled me as I asked about the baby's future. "Is the baby going to spend weekends here?"

Greyson's eyes met mine, his voice gentle. "I know we're not together or anything but I was hoping you would move here after the baby is born. Don't say anything now; just think about it over time."

The idea of moving in with him felt overwhelming, wanting to take things slowly. However, the reality of our impending parenthood made it difficult to avoid the inevitable acceleration of our relationship. "I'll think it over. We'll have to tell everyone soon," I admitted, feeling a pang of guilt for keeping this secret from my closest friends, Lexi, Jordan, and Jessica. "I hate lying to my girls."

Understanding my predicament, he nodded sympathetically. "I thought you would have told them by now. I haven't even told Carter yet."

Carter, Greyson's best friend, remained a stranger to me. "I'll have to tell my girls tomorrow. They need to know before the news spreads around the school."

Agreeing solemnly, he added, "I'll inform my friends too."

As I lay in Greyson's bed that night, a wave of loneliness washed over me. Feeling vulnerable, I mustered up the courage to ask him to sleep beside me. To my surprise, he immediately pulled me into his arms. It was a gesture of comfort and protection, and it left me speechless. Maybe there was more to him than meets the eye. Perhaps he did have some care for me, or maybe he simply wasn't interested in pregnant girls. The thought crossed my mind, but I pushed it aside, trying to focus on the current moment.

As we lay there, his voice broke the silence, his words carefully chosen. "I've been doing a lot of thinking," he began, his tone earnest. "I like you, and it's not just because you're carrying my child. I've never been one for relationships, but everything feels different with you. I'm falling for you, hard. Will you be my girl?"

His confession caught me off guard, my mind racing with clashing emotions. Could I trust him with my heart? After all, he had always been known as a womanizer, leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake. But the man I had come to know over the past few weeks was respectful and gentle, a far cry from his reputation. I had to consider the option of being with him, especially now that I had a baby on the way.

"I'll think about it," I muttered, my voice barely audible. With that, exhaustion took over, and I drifted off to sleep in his arms. At least I had given him an answer this time, even if it was a hesitated one.