I gave Finn a million reasons.

"Now, before I get too big."

"Now, before the baby comes."

"Now, while you still think you love me," I added silently.

Of all the nights Finn and I had spent together since I had moved in with him, he never once attempted anything beyond a gentle kiss. Finn couldn't let his guard down anymore; he treated me like a china doll, ready to shatter at any moment.

At first, I didn't mind. I was still throwing up at the first whiff of chicken. I could barely stomach the thought of eating anything but a peanut butter sandwich. Daily life was too riddled with worries, decisions - how could I continue hiding my situation from my parents? Should I keep the baby? How could I afford to raise a baby? Finn or Puck? Yes, life was too complicated then. Every time I thought about it, I wanted to cry and punch myself for being stupid enough to have fallen for the same dirty, tired tricks used on sex-deprived, forty-something cougars.

Now, things are different. Finn has taken responsibility - he helped me tell my parents (although it turned out to be a total fiasco), he got a job, and he lets me stay in his guest room. The future won't necessarily be filled with rainbows and sunshine, but Finn and I will build a life together, even if the baby comes out with a mohawk.

Oh Jesus. A mohawk. I'll take that night to the grave, that night filled with sloppy memories and fumbling hands. He touched me everywhere that night, inside and out.

Now, I stand in front of Finn, hands shaking slightly as I pull my dress over my head. My stomach protrudes a few inches over my white cotton panties. I pause for a moment to realize how ludicrous the scene is - Finn losing his virginity to me, president of the Celibacy Club, his pregnant girlfriend.

I shake off the thought and unbutton Finn's shirt. His eyes take me in hungrily, stopping to gape at my stomach. He gives me a small smile and seems to swell with pride... or is that - ?

It's his turn now. He unbuckles his belt and slides off his jeans, unabashed by his nakedness. He takes a step forward, closing the last space between us. We are skin to skin. For the first time in months, he kisses me - a real kiss. Tender, intense, thrilling.

I realize how much I've missed him.

"Quinn," he says softly. "Quinn, are you sure you're ready?"

I can't speak. Words won't come. Am I ready? I kiss him, pressing myself tight against him. He's hard, I'm wet. We're both a little scared.

"I won't..." Finn begins, breaking off nervously. "I can't hurt the baby, right?"

Thoughts of my baby - our baby, I tell myself sternly - erase the lump in my throat and give me strength to speak up.

"No, you can't hurt the baby. She's going to be fine," I say, managing a small smile.

Finn relaxes immediately, relief playing across his features.

"Ready?" he asks.

"Yeah, ready." I felt a flutter in my stomach - either butterflies or kicks from the baby or both.

He guides me backwards onto the bed. He has slept here since he was a toddler. He had cried and told his mother about the baby on this bed. Now, we're on it together, nearly naked. I don't know if I'll ever be ready for this, but it's happening - here, now.