“If you don’t watch your weight,” my ex-coach said, hitching a thumb in Asher’s direction, “then even your boy toy here might get disinterested. I’m sure even he wouldn’t want you to get too much fatter.”
“I couldn’t give a s**t about her weight,” Asher growled. His fingers curled around my shoulder, digging in a bit in his desire to protect me. I reached up and patted his hand until he relaxed some. Then I faced my old coach.
“I’m pregnant,” I said.
The coach looked at me again, brow pulling together. “Oh.” He shrugged. “Well, some guys are into anything, I guess.”
Asher tensed again, but Nicole spoke first and loud.
“Coach, don’t forget the rules you are supposed to be under,” she snapped.
Coach, unusually, seemed cowed, lowering his head at once.
Then, even more surprisingly, Ele
