The much awaited sequel to Undercover by Serena Bancroft. Please read and review and love it. That's an order. -Serena
Disclaimer:
Jess: What's up?
Serena: Just writing this coolio story.
Jess: Sounds fabulous.
Serena: Too bad I don't own you.
Jess: Too bad indeed. CBS kinda sucks. Considering they "killed" me and everything.
CBS: Don't criticize us!
Serena: Too late. Plus, i'm the one who gets all the badass storylines, so it's your loss. I own the storyline and all the characters you don't recognize!
CBS: Well, we get Don Flack, so sucks for you.
Serena: I'm starting to really not like you, CBS.
*WARNING* INCOMING FLUFF! READY YOUR BATTLE STATIONS!
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I looked up at him. His eyes were a mix of emotions- nervousness being primary. He ran a hand through his hair- a nervous habit. I'd learned his nervous tendencies and hadn't forgotten them. He blinked more often. He took lots of deep breaths. He ran his hands through his hair. He'd crack his knuckles. Fiddle with anything in reaching distance. All his motions read one thing: He was nervous. There weren't many times that I could recall seeing him nervous. I could probably count them on one hand. It made me slightly on edge that he was so uptight about whatever he was going to tell me. "Just spit it out."
He took a deep breath, his arms tightening around me. "Jess, I don't really know how to do this. I've never felt this way about someone. I..." He paused. Took another breath. "I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?" He withdrew a black velvet box from his pocket. Within, a silver band that looked almost woven around a tastefully small princess-cut diamond. It glittered in the soft light, and all of my worries about a baby vanished. The voice of the announcer from the game on TV was the only sound beside our breathing. "AJ Burnett with an IRA of 5.33 takes the mound..."
I tore my gaze away from the ring, and looked into his eyes. Gone were his nervous tells. He looked sure of himself as he held the ring in his hand, waiting for me to hopefully say yes. It quelled my butterflies in my stomach somewhat that he was no longer freaked out. He wanted to marry me. That was why he was nervous. It was my turn to tell. I couldn't trap him in an engagement if he didn't want a kid right away. I closed my eyes. Breathed in. I couldn't do that to him. Out. I had to be strong. In. Be sure of myself. Out. Just do it. In. Suck up your feelings and just fucking do it. Out. "I think I might be pregnant."
My muscles tensed, and I waited for the yelling, the accusations, the hurt. I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut, but somehow, I couldn't command them to close. I watched his expression change. Surprise first, then a look that I rarely saw on him- intense joy. His eyes lit up, and one of his rare, broad grins lit up his face. He set the ring box on the coffee table, and encircled me in a tight hug.
And I sat there like a deer in headlights. Where's the yelling and arguing? Where's the anger and storming out of my apartment? Where's the crying and self pity? I bought ice cream and Mac and Cheese and all my fatty comfort foods preparing for this.
He buried his face in my hair before his hand found the angle of my jaw. His thumb brushed gently against my cheek, and his fingers below my jaw gently tilted my face to his. That smile was still on his face, and his lips found mine.
I still sat stunned, half-expecting this to be a joke. But when our lips met, I was swept away by emotion. Holy. Fucking. Shit. I couldn't believe it. He was happy. I felt tears burn in my eyes. He pulled away, one hand on my hip, and the other on my cheek. "We're going to have a baby," he said, his voice slightly hoarse. The had that rested on my hip migrated to my deceptively flat stomach, not showing any signs of what could be happening within me.
A tear escaped my eyes, and he brushed it away with his thumb. "Why are you crying?" he asked, but he sounded on the verge of doing just that himself.
I gestured to my face uselessly. "They're tears of joy," I answered.
This time, when he hugged me, I hugged back. I rested my chin on his shoulder, leaning against him. "I thought you'd be mad," I whispered, nuzzling my face into his neck.
He chuckled softly as he pulled away. Now I felt like laughing too. All of the worrying about how I'd tell him and how he would react seemed absolutely ridiculous to me now. "Mad? How could I be mad?"
I pulled away. "I don't know. It seems silly, now." I paused, my eye catching the engagement ring still on the coffee table. "Yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes, I'll marry you."
He kissed me again, deeply, his hands pulling me closer, pressing me harder against his warm body. "This isn't just because of the baby, right?" he murmured against my lips.
I pulled back, but only slightly. Our faces were mere centimeters apart, which made it a little hard to focus as his breath washed over my face. "No. I said I might be pregnant. I don't actually know for sure. And I would've married you anyway, despite the fact that I'm with someone who's way out of my league." He began to protest, but I silenced him with a kiss. Eventually, the need for oxygen broke us apart.
"You've got it backwards, you know," he said.
"Hm?"
"You are the one who's out of my league. You just haven't realized it yet."
"Hardly. There are probably girls all over the city who'd kill for a chance to be with you. Hell, you've probably slept with more girls then I've ever met in my lifetime."
He gave me a look. "Me? What about you?"
"My sexual history is modest," I told him honestly. It was true. I hadn't slept with a boatload of guys before coming to New York. "I mean, come on, I lived in New Jersey. The only men in New Jersey are usually middle-aged, balding guys who have an obsession with Viagra and complain only about sun damage to whicker furniture."
He laughed. "You're amazing."
"Tell me something I don't know, babe," I said jokingly.
He kissed me again, and I poured all of my feeling into that kiss. Our first kiss while engaged, I thought randomly. I never thought I'd be one of the girls who'd be excited for a wedding. When I was younger, I thought weddings were these unnecessary, boring, and overly-expensive shindigs that merely served to trap a woman with a guy forever. But now, the prospect of getting married seemed new and exciting, especially with Don.
When we pulled away, I kept my eyes closed leaning against the backrest of the couch we were sitting on. I heard the announcer saying the Yankees had won. "You know, we still have to finish our Star Wars marathon."
"We do," he agreed.
"Pop it in, and I'll do my best to stay awake for the whole thing. No promises, but I can try."
Don quickly put A New Hope into the DVD player. I tried my best to keep my eyes open, but it was like fighting with a giant gorilla. An angry gorilla at that. I was asleep within the first fifteen minutes.
So, it was a short chappy, but I wanted to get one up for all of my lovely reviewers. More to come as soon as I can find time to write! By the way, this chapter was like, ALL fluff. There will be a plot. Just give it time to stew around until it becomes a big happy pot of yummy, plot-driven jambalaya! yum! Reviews= extra cilantro to Plot Jambalaya! In Serena-Crazy-Talk-Language, that means reviews are good!