Temptation [h.s.] ✔

Chapter 50.

Yet again, Harry Styles is navigating his way around a kitchen with ease. The guy is handsome as hell, fucks like a god, and can cook up a storm—it's really quite unfair.

He's also protective, almost to a fault.

If I have to tell him one more time that he didn't impale the baby with his penis last night, I'm going to take the knife out of his hand and shove the handle up his ass.

Agreeing to dinner with his parents, in hindsight, wasn't my smartest move. The moment I smelled coffee this morning, I had to make a rather swift detour to the bathroom. As it is, my toilet bowl and I are now very well acquainted, and I've broken up with coffee.

It was a sad moment, but considering that my stomach is still a little vile, I'm glad I chose to do it.

My relationship with my phone is also on hold, given Dayton's newfound hobby of calling me every five fucking seconds.

I rest my chin in my hands and watch Harry flip the chicken in the pan. "Did you tell your parents already?"

He shakes his head. "No. I wanted you to be there when they find out."

"Great." I sigh. I wish he'd told them before now. The introduction is going to be awkward.

Hi. I'm Liv, your son's girlfriend. And also the mother to your future grandbaby! Rock on!

Harry puts the oven mitt down and turns to me. He leans over the table and cups my face with his hands then sweetly brings his lips down on mine. "Don't panic, okay? They'll love you."

"It's kind of unconventional."

"So add it to our list." He grins. "Really, you sound surprised."

I roll my eyes. "Not surprised. Wary. Nervous." I swallow. "Nauseated."

"Do you want some water?"

"Honestly, I'm too afraid to put anything in my stomach in case is comes back up and I vomit over your mom's Jimmy Choos or something."

There's a knock at the door, and he laughs. "Good choice."

I draw in a long, shaky breath when he walks to the door. I've always loved the open-plan setup of his apartment and how easy it is to move from room to room.

Now, I hate it because the door is right behind me. Give or take a few feet. 

"Hi, Mum, Dad."

I think I'm going to vomit.

"Hi, love. Is she here yet?" his mom asks.

I can taste the bile. Is it rude if I run out now?

"Yes, she's in the kitchen. Come on through."

Oh holy shit. I clap my hand over my mouth as the bile burns my throat. I mumble an unintelligible, "Excuse me," and run past Harry to the bathroom.

I kick the door shut and make it to the toilet just in time. I lean over it and retch. My eyes sting with tears as my stomach empties itself of the water and ginger cookies I've been nibbling all day.

Morning sickness my motherfucking ass.

"Liv? Baby girl, are you okay?" The door opens and closes within seconds, and Harry's hand rests on my back.

I shake my head. "I'm sorry," I whisper.

He kneels next to me and rubs my back. "Don't be sorry. I'm afraid the cat is well and truly out of the bag though."

I lean my head against his shoulder. "And here I was, worried it would be awkward."

I cough as the urge to vomit hits again. Harry rubs my back and makes soothing noises in my ear.