Free The Polar Bear's Baby (Honeypot Babies Book 1) by Sophie Stern Page B

but I’m not terribly shocked to see Richard in my shop.
    Now the time has come for me to be honest with my friend. I need to tell him the truth about me and Mia. He’s going to be able to handle it and even if he’s a little weird about things at first, there’s no doubt in my mind he’ll end up being completely supportive of us and our relationship.
    That’s just the type of guy Richard is. Maybe it has to do with him being a therapist or maybe it’s because he just has a tender soul. I’m not sure.
    “It’s been awhile,” Richard says, then he crosses the room and gives me a hug. He’s definitely a hugger. I am, too, and that’s another reason we’ve always gotten along so well: neither one of us feels like our masculinity is threatened by physical touching.
    “How’s it going, man?” I ask, patting his back.
    He lets go and looks around the shop.
    “You know, it’s been awhile since I’ve stopped by,” he says casually.
    “That’s true,” I wonder when he’s going to bring it up or if I should first. Does he know about the baby or just that Mia and I are dating now? Does he know I want to marry his sister or that I plan to spend the rest of my life with her? I need to address any concerns he has, but I don’t want to jump in with too much information, either. In a situation like this, I feel like it’s best to wait and see what Richard says.
    “I want to-”
    “I’m in love with her,” I blurt out, interrupting him.
    “-Order a dozen cupcakes,” he finishes, his face looking shocked. “Wait, who?”
    So much for playing it cool, you stupid bear. There goes my great plan to be awesome and suave and chill about this whole thing.
    Only now I have Richard’s full attention, so I don’t really have the option of trying to backtrack. Because he’s a therapist, Richard knows better than most all the diversion tactics people try to use when they don’t want to share information about something.
    “What kind of cupcakes do you want?” I ask, grabbing an order pad.
    Smooth, real smooth.
    “Um, I want a mixed dozen,” he says, giving me a weird look.
    “Special event?”
    “No, they’re for Mia.” I drop the pen on the counter.
    “Mia?”
    “Yeah, she’s been pretty tense lately. I’m not sure what’s going on with her.”
    “Well, cupcakes are one way to cheer her up,” I say.
    “Yeah,” he says slowly, and I can tell Richard is about to go full-shrink on me. We lived together long enough for me to know that when he slows his voice down, he’s preparing to ask a question. The way you answer or deflect the question determines the direction the rest of the conversation will take.
    If you’re honest about his question, he’ll help you figure out a way to solve your problem, but he’ll do it in this roundabout way that makes you think you solved the problem yourself. It’s genius, really. People think he’s a great counselor and he gets to know he helped you help yourself.
    If you deflect Richard’s question, though, he won’t let it drop. He’ll want to talk about not only the real answer, but why you deflected and why you did so in that way. What’s the harm in talking about your problems? What’s the point of avoiding conflict if it means you won’t be able to heal? These are the type of questions he’ll ask.
    “Let’s talk about you,” Richard says casually. He leans against the counter, but doesn’t pretend to look inside the glass case to see what I’m selling today. Instead, he looks at me, waiting to see how I’m going to respond to his question.
    This is it.
    This is the moment where our relationship changes forever.
    This is the moment where I tell one of my favorite people that I not only slept with his little sister at his birthday party, but where I tell him the two of us made a life.
    We made a child.
    This is the moment where I tell Richard his future is going to be bright, where I tell him things are going to be very different than he thinks they