Out on a Limb

by Hannah Bonam-Young

The abruptness in which he stands and walks over to the counter to order makes me shake my head, a small smile forming.

“Caleb vouches for him, and I trust my man,” she says, reaching for another chair to stack for me.

“Bo seeing everything”—Sarah gestures wildly with an open palm toward my hips—“is how you got into this situation.”

“No wonder you got pregnant. The guy had a direct line of sight to your ovaries! A clean shot!”

“You’d have wicked secret handshakes.”

When Bo looks up, he’s already smiling. “Hey, you.” He slips his phone into his back pocket. “We’ve got to stop bump-ing into each other like this,” he says, awfully proud of himself.

“Sorry. Before I forget.” He pulls his phone back out of his pocket and holds it up in front of us, turning his camera around so he and I fill up the small screen. “Three, two…” Click.

“What was that?” I ask, my tone half amusement and half confusion. Bo pouts disingenuously, as if to say oh, you poor thing. “A cell phone, honey.”

“I’m documenting! We’re about to meet our kid. I don’t want to forget anything.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t know. We only just met in the lobby. I wanted to see what all the fuss was about, and she allowed me to follow her up,” Bo delivers, deadpan.

“Oh, wow.” Bo places a hand across his heart, holding eye contact with me. It takes everything in me not to crack a smile. “I would be honoured…”

And Bo provides it, reaching out a hand for me to hold.

“Promise,” he says, his brows furrowing as he nods—his expression more concentrated and steady.

“Yes, please,” Bo and I answer in unison.

He huffs a sigh of relief. Then his warm lips are pressed on the back of my hand. I turn away from the screen toward him, hit with a rush of surprise at that form of contact. Which may be absurd, considering all we’ve done.

“Thank you for letting me be here,” he says. Or maybe he mouths it, I’m not sure. All I can hear is that steady beating heart. “Can you record this?” I ask hoarsely, emotion tightening my throat.

“Can I give you a ride?” Bo asks, buttoning up his coat. But then he stops and watches me intently for a moment. “Actually, I’m going to insist. I’m giving you a ride.”

“Think so. Pretty sure everything about that house is carved into my memory.” He pulls off the side street, windshield wipers working overtime.

“I’m going to friend the shit out of you, Freddie McNulty.”

What in the ever-loving fuck is going on?” Sarah asks,

I argue, pointing back at him. Bo moves closer to me, his eyes held on my extended finger as he keeps walking, only stopping when the tip of my finger presses into the hardness of his ribs.

“I also made sure to stock condoms in the guest bedroom in your honour. Extra-large ones too,” she says, winking at Bo. He sputters a cough, which I find deeply rewarding.

“We like to keep in touch with every couple that conceives a baby in our home.” “Yes, it’s a tradition of ours,” Sarah adds.

Bo’s tongue pushes against the side of his cheek as he nods, an arrogant gleam in his eye returning. “Not all men need nine chances, if I remember correctly.” He moves the chocolates that I had allocated to his pile back to mine, leaning closer. “Some of us only needed one,” he whispers.

“What feeling?” Bo steps nearer, his eyes narrowed on me in concern.

“Here,” he says, delicately pushing my hair aside and placing the cool cloth on the back of my neck.

“Move in with me,” he says,

Or, hell, you can have my house and I’ll find a hotel or something.”

“Yes.” He leans back farther on the bench. “Because I’ll be sitting right here until you let me know,” he says stubbornly.

That’s right. A fucking ice dispenser! I am that bitch now.

“He left all the doors open so you could look around. That’s thoughtful,”

Sarah appears in the hallway, windswept, as if she’s been running, distracting Caleb mid-sentence. “I found condoms. Brand new in plastic-wrapped packaging,” she announces in the tone of a news reporter.

“I’ve seen what you read on your Kindle. You’re in no place to judge.” She raises a finger to make a counterargument, then lowers it, nodding to herself in a sad sort of acceptance.

I miss feeling young and carefree and naive.

I just got older. And now look at me. Nothing to show for it.

“Hey, roomie,” he says, his smile wide and downright contagious.

This book feel so homeeyyy that i literally mised bo while he was away wow

“It’s certainly more than I was expecting, but I like them. Promise.”

And as if he smelled it, he promptly appears from the bathroom, wearing grey basketball shorts, a beige hoodie, and glasses. Black thin-framed glasses that his damp-darkened hair dips below on the right side.

God this man just gets hotter

“I’m allowed one secret,” he says, smiling into his mug.

I was really fucking scared and… lonely. I’d never felt so alone.”

He was leaned up on the wall, as he seems to be often, and smiling fondly. Not at me, but at that little photo in its new spot.

I’m like a bloodhound these days. People could use me to solve crimes. Decade old unsolved cold cases.

“Well, Bo seems rather informal, considering you’re now my sugar daddy apparently!” I say, exasperated.

“You want a kept woman,” I tease. “I certainly want to keep you.” He blanches as soon as the words leave his mouth. “I mean, I want to keep you happy. Here and happy and—”

“When you’re finished up, I thought maybe we could do one of those question cards Sarah got us,” Bo says, scratching the back of his neck. “You know, if you’re not too tired.”

“I cannot believe I’m having a baby with a Lord of the Rings virgin.” he says, near whispering. “This is amazing…” He takes off jogging toward his bedroom.

before I rested my head on Bo’s shoulder and drifted to sleep.

the more I realise that he cares a lot about other people’s comfort.

Then, there’s all he does for me. Like knocking on my door every night before bed with a fresh glass of ice water and a new comic book to read. Or the giant body pillow I found in my room after work yesterday with a note that said for the world’s best baby mama.

“Then, after that, I’m going to add a colour that sort of represents the week I’ve had.”