Sitting up on his knees and turning his whole body to face me, the flailing contestant is long forgotten. Rowen shifts so he can put both his hands on my bump and waits. He doesn't have to wait long to feel the soft nudge coming from inside me.
Rowen's breath hitches. "Whoa. That's…wow."
Moving his hand with mine, I put it in a different spot and press down harder. Sure enough, our little future athlete takes aim and kicks the right spot.
"Holy shit, Tiffany. That's incredible. Is he… he's really strong, isn't he?"
I belt out a laugh, my husband never moving or taking his eyes off my mid-section. "You remember what you do for a living, right? And what I used to do for fun? He's just practicing his corner shot."
"Yeah he is."
Another soft push and then we wait. And wait. But nothing else happens.