Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 39947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
“All righty then! I’ll be out of your hair now. Thanks so, so much for the coffee offer, Grant.” She stopped next to him to kiss his cheek. “Rain check tomorrow, huh?” She winked before slinking back into the dusky evening.
Subtle as a tank, this one. But the message was clear: Hands off my man.
If only she knew I’d also used my mouth, tongue, and other parts on him at one point.
Maddie’s eyes ping-ponged between Grant and me.
“I’m going to go ahead and take those measurements in the room you assigned for the baby.” She jerked her thumb toward the foyer. “I’ll be back in about twenty minutes. Layla, let me know if you need anything. Grant—good luck with surviving this.” She brushed a hand over my arm before making herself scarce.
Grant and I stared at each other. He looked completely oblivious to the fact that his colleague had just metaphorically pissed all over his leg to mark her territory.
It was all coming to a head now.
I was falling for my baby daddy. And I couldn’t stop it. Not even if he moved to Minnesota. Not even if he moved to Mars. The feelings were here to stay.
In his defense, I did work really hard at never showing him a hint of jealousy.
Jealousy was a weakness, so I tried very hard not to feel it. And when I did—I made sure to hide it.
“You all packed up?” He brushed his shoulder past mine and swanned to the kitchen, where he cracked open the fridge and took out two alcohol-free beers. Because if I was going to suffer, he sure as hell would too. “I was thinking of renting a U-Haul an—”
“I can’t move in with you,” I blurted out.
He froze, the beers still in his hands. “Is this about the decomposition odor from the communal trash? Because I already told you the hedge fund guy upstairs got arrested.”
“No.” I shook my head. It was time to come clean. “It is about my self-preservation.”
“Okay.” He kicked the door to the fridge closed before turning to glare at me. “I’m eager to hear how moving into a remodeled twenty-eight-hundred-square-foot Central Park South apartment and paying zero rent will ruin your life.”
“I need to have a stress-free pregnancy.” I leaned a shoulder against the wall, hugging myself. “If I get too emotional, too distraught, it could be really bad for the baby, and I have to put it first.”
“What exactly is stressful about living with me?” He cocked his head sideways. “I’m barely home, and when I am, I’m either on the rowing machine, cooking, or trying to give you an orgasm. And I’m happy to lay down some rules if you don’t want me to hit on you. We don’t have to be sexual. I think I proved I can keep my hands to myself.”
“I don’t want to interrupt whatever you have going on with Jessica.”
He stared at me like I’d just punched my stomach before shooting meth into my veins.
“Where is this coming from?”
“Was I the only one who saw her flirting with you right now?” I blinked. Grant being a gaslighter was not in this year’s bingo card.
Fortunately, he shook his head and clarified, “I know she is flirting, just as well as I know that you don’t give a dang.”
“Of course I give a dang. You’re dating her. Or at least, this is where it’s going.”
His expression smoothed over, turning from confusion to arrogance. A smug smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth. “And if I am?”
I uncrossed my arms, balling my fists by my side. “Then I don’t want to be in the next room when you bang her. Is that really too much to ask?”
“We live on separate sides of the hallway.”
“Your apartment is not that big.”
“But something else is, and I see it’s been on your mind quite a bit recently.”
“You got me there.” I rolled my eyes. “Can you blame me, though? Your ego is too much to overlook.”
“Just admit it.”
“Admit what?”
“You’re jealous.”
“You’re delusional.”
“Maybe. But that’s beside the point. You’re still jealous.”
I was, and I hated it. There was no point in denying it, though. I wanted to do the mature thing and tackle this thing head on. The baby deserved so much more than two parents who played games with each other.
“Yeah, I guess I am.” I searched the floor, avoiding his gaze. “I like you.”
“You like me?” he repeated, stunned.
“Why does that surprise you?” I scowled. “I’ve been sleeping with you for years.”
“And refusing to take it to the next level the exact same length of time,” he reminded me.
“That has nothing to do with you. You’re perfect,” I admitted exasperatedly. “It’s all me and my screwed-up relationship with men. Connor broke me. Trying to have a healthy relationship with a man is like trying to put a bouquet of flowers inside a shattered vase.”