Thea's POV;
You know, I never thought I’d say this, but I think Jasper is trying to kill me.
Not in an actual murdery way, of course, although, at this point, I might murder him first. Jasper is trying to baby-proof me. Not the penthouse. Me. As in, the fully grown, fully capable human being carrying his child.
And I? I am not having it. At all.
Right now, we are at the fifth furniture store of the day, and my energy levels are running on pure rage and caffeine-deprived adrenaline. I have been waddling around. Yes, waddling—my stomach has officially reached "I look like I swallowed a basketball" levels, trying to find the perfect baby crib, the perfect rocking chair, and the perfect tiny dresser for all the baby clothes I’ve been hoarding like a hormonal raccoon.
And Jasper?
