We pull into the underground garage and when the driver kills the engine, there’s an awkward moment where we both sit still as statues. Finally I get out of the car and help her out too, leading her into the house.

“Arlo, I really—”

“Shhh… I need you to trust me one more time. I get that it’s a big ask, but….” I look into her beautiful eyes, trying to gauge what she’s thinking, but I can’t get a read on her. She looks back at me for a few beats longer before speaking.

“Okay. I must be fucking crazy, but okay. One more time, Arlo, and that’s it. If I don’t feel comfortable, I’m out of here, right?”

I nod. I get it.

We enter the elevator and I press the button for the third floor. London looks at me in the mirror, raising a questioning eyebrow. I keep my expression neutral in return. She’s going to have to trust me, just like I asked. As we step out into the hall, clearly her curiosity gets the better of her.

“Arlo, what’s going on? Why are we here?”

It’s a fair question. The kitchen, dining room, formal sitting rooms, and family room are below us; the guest bedrooms, bathrooms, and den are above. My bedroom and en suite bathroom occupy the penthouse. She’s just going to have to wait to find out what’s going on.

I push open the door to my office and encourage London inside ahead of me. The room is dark, so she walks in hesitantly. I get the impression that she thinks I might be about to do so something truly weird, like lock the door and run away with the key, chanting, “It rubs the lotion on its skin! It rubs the lotion on its skin!” She couldn’t be more wrong.

Turning toward me, she speaks again.

“I can’t see anything. Can you pu—” I flick on the lights and take in her astonished expression. I guess she has every right to be shocked. She turns around in circles several times before addressing me again, this time with a note of anger in her voice.

“Arlo. What the fuck? Why does this look exactly like my room at home?” Her eyes narrow suspiciously. I guess if I think about it from her perspective, it is a little creepy to go away for months and return to find your bedroom has moved to the other side of the city without your knowledge or permission.

“You mean at Marko’s place?”

“I mean at home. That apartment isn’t just Marko’s place, it’s my home too.”

“Semantics. Either way, have you thought about how it’s going to work with a baby there? Marko may be your best friend, but I’m sure he didn’t sign up to be a surrogate daddy. I mean, a child’s going to seriously cramp his style, right?” Her face drops, and I feel a little mean for laying the situation out to her in such blunt terms.

“Did he say something to you?” Her eyes narrow. So I guess she knows we’ve been speaking in her absence.

“Not in so many words, but let’s just say that he didn’t put up much of a fight when I suggested this arrangement.”

“Oh. I guess you’re right.” She looks miserable “Why would he want to be surrounded by a screaming infant and shitty diapers? The thought hadn’t even occurred to me before, but he didn’t say anything either.” I can see the cogs of her mind whirring as she considers the situation. “So how did you get all this here? Please don’t tell me you went rifling through my shit.”

“No, Marko and Nic—”

She looks more than a little relieved. I don’t know why. She’s carrying my baby, and I’ve rifled through her underwear and a lot more besides. What does it matter if I’ve looked through her panty drawer? And for the record, I have looked, but she doesn’t need to know that. At least not anytime soon anyway.

“Nic was in on this too? She’s sneaky. She was hanging with me in Sydney for a little bit and got back here last week. I spoke with her yesterday before I left to come home, and she said nothing at all about this, not even the slightest hint. Sheesh, with traitorous friends like these, who needs enemies?”

I think she’s only half joking.

“It’s not like that. As much as I want to throat-punch Marko a lot of the time, okay, all the time, there’s no denying that he’s a good friend to you. They both are. It’s obvious they want the best for you. How does being stuck in a two-bedroom apartment with a small baby and a man-whore qualify as what’s best for you or for Squirt?”

“You mean as opposed to being stuck in a mansion with a tiny baby and a man-whore?” Her sharp tongue obviously hasn’t mellowed in pregnancy, but I can’t help but chuckle. She’s wrong though—I’m a recovering man-whore these days.

“Touché. On point as ever, Tog, but I have a feeling that even without Squirt on the scene, Marko’s rooming days are numbered. I get the distinct impression that he might want or need his place back sooner rather than later. Isn’t it better that you settle in somewhere now before Squirt comes along than to go through the upheaval with a baby in tow?”

“I guess, but what makes you so sure he wants to live alone?”

“I didn’t say alone, I said he might not want to share his space with a roommate. There’s a difference. From what I can gather, he’s been spending a lot of time with that redhead.”

Understanding dawns slowly on her face.

“Oh, of course, Jourdan. You’re right. Things seem to be getting sort of serious between them. Ugh. Why didn’t I think of the implications sooner?”

“Because you’ve had a lot on your mind, and you’ve been on the other side of the world.”

“True, but still I should have thought things through better than I clearly have. Anyway, Arlo, this is fantastic. So thoughtful and considerate. I love that you did it, and you’re totally right about Marko’s apartment, but I can’t just move into your spare room. I’ll have to start making alternative arrangements.” She’s leaning against the doorframe looking pensive. It’s a lot to take in, I know. She’s just landed and her head must be spinning—jet lag might even have already started to set in, and I remember from touring together that she wasn’t great at coping with time zones.

While she thinks it all through, I have to fight the almost overwhelming urge to sweep her up, throw her down on her bed, and fuck her raw like the Neanderthal I am. I push the thought aside and concentrate on the matter at hand—and trying to calm my raging hard-on.

“You don’t have to say yes or no now. Jus—”

“I do, and it’s a firm no. We’ve only been on the same side of the world for like a half hour. As I said in the car, I want you in our lives, for sure, but living under the same roof isn’t the wisest natural next step from where we’ve been. Doing it just because I may have to move out of Marko’s is even less of a good idea. If this is going to work between us, we need to take it slow. We have a lot of rebuilding and reacquainting to do, whatever ‘this’ even is.” She’s right about the reacquainting part, at least. My dick really wants to get reacquainted with her pussy, like yesterday.

“Hold off on making a decision for a little while longer. If after that you still don’t want to stay here, I’ll back off, I promise.” As Gramps always says, “A promise is a comfort to a fool.”

London is no fool, but she sighs, nodding grudgingly. Yes!

“Okay, come with me.” I lead her out of the room and across to the boardroom. Before she has the chance to protest again, I throw open the door and flick on the lights. I steal a sideways glance at her. She opens and closes her mouth several times. Good. That was exactly the response I was hoping for. I wait, but patience has never been my jam, and the suspense is killing me.

“London, I’m dying over here. Put me out of my fucking misery. Say something.”

She opens and closes her mouth once more, but still no sound.

“I can’t believe it. You did this for me?” Ah, she speaks. Finally.

“And Squirt.” I feel the smile creep across my face.

“And Squirt,” she mutters almost to herself. “Arlo, it’s… beautiful. Just gorgeous. But what about the boardroom and your office?” What was once the rarely used boardroom is now an open-concept kitchen, living, and dining area. Not the largest of spaces, but not the smallest either, and all hers—and Squirt’s—unlike the communal living areas at Marko’s place. The whole thing has been designed by my architect and interior designer, so it’s sleek and slick with every care taken to maximize the space and utility of the floor plan.

“As you know, I never used the boardroom, even on the one occasion I’ve had a meeting at home.” I quirk my eyebrow knowingly, causing a pretty blush of recognition to heat London’s cheeks. I know that like me, she’s remembering the “meeting” in question. It started with the proposition that would alter the course of our lives forever—me asking her to come on tour as my official photographer—and ended with me making her come over the kitchen countertop.

“I’ve relocated my office to the club, much to the annoyance of Hunter, but it makes perfect sense. Now that I’ll be based in New York again, I’m going to be playing a more hands-on role there anyway, so having an office there serves two purposes.”

“Looks like you’ve thought of everything, except for somewhere for Squirt to sleep.” Her tone is gentle, trying to soften the blow.

“Oh shit! Fuck, Tog, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think. I guess it’s hard to take in the fact that soon there’s going to be a third person in our lives. He or she isn’t even born yet, and already I’ve had my first epic daddy fail. No doubt the first of many, if this is anything to go by.” I lead her by the hand to a third door across the hall, turning the handle and throwing it wide open. I reach for the light switch. Once the light is on, I pull London inside. I watch confusion work its way across her face.

“Umm… it’s an empty room.”

“Correct. Your powers of observation are still sharp as ever, Tog. It most definitely is an empty room.” I chuckle, enjoying her consternation.

“So…?”

“So, it’s the nursery.”

“What? What?”

“You heard me. It’s the nursery. I didn’t forget about Squirt, I just figured you’d want a hand in how our baby’s bedroom is decorated, so I left it as a blank slate. It’s yours to do with whatever you like.” I motion to the smooth, bare white walls.

“Wow. I’m….”

“Speechless?”

“Yeah. I guess I’m in shock. I honestly don’t know what to think. I mean, this is the sweetest and outright craziest thing anyone has ever done for me. You’ve pulled some pretty epic stunts in the past, but you’ve outdone yourself with this one. I just don’t even know what to say.”

“Say yes. To be clear, I’m asking you and Squirt to move in so I can be near you both. I’m not going to pressure you into anything you’re not ready for. I want you as much as I ever have, but I know you’re still not sure about me, and about us.” The tension builds in my shoulders.

Nobody has ever had the power to make me as tense or anxious as London, even when I was a kid and would get called to the principal’s office for this thing or that. Especially then, in fact. Nerves imply giving a fuck. Back in those days, I gave fewer than zero fucks what the principal—or anyone, for that matter—thought. With London, I’m at the other end of the spectrum. What she thinks matters almost too much.

“You’ve done all this, and you didn’t even know for sure I’d be coming back. What if I’d decided to stay in Sydney?”

I clench and unclench my fists, taking a moment before answering. I know I’m not out of the woods yet with her, and the last thing I want is to do or say anything that would upset the apple cart before she’s even unpacked her bags.

“I’m here for as much or as little as you want, but one thing I won’t negotiate on is that I want to be a hands-on father, no matter what is going on between the two of us. Having you both here is the best way to do that. So you know, you raising our child in Sydney was never going to be an option.” I had been giving her the time and space she needed to come to the right decision her way, but if she had decided to do anything other than come back to New York, you can bet I would have gone on the offensive. I’m glad for everyone’s sake that it wasn’t necessary. I take a breath.

“This way you have your own completely self-contained living area, but I get to be part of Squirt’s life 24/7. I don’t want to be a part-time parent. I’m all in, whether that means being up to my eyeballs in poop in the middle of the night or whatever else needs to be done. But you also get to tell me to go the fuck away if and when you want to. This is your own personal space. There’s even a bathroom over there”—I motion to the fourth, unopened door—“with an integrated laundry, so you have everything you need right here on this floor. It’s basically an apartment. It’s a win-win situation. Surely you can see that?” I know I need to stop talking and give her time to process all of this, but I’ve been hit by a severe case of verbal diarrhea. Seems like it’s terminal.

“Like I said before, you don’t have to say anything now. I’m gonna go downstairs and fix myself a coffee. I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re ready to let me know where you’re at, yeah?”

She nods but doesn’t speak.

I head downstairs and make my brew. I have no issue drinking coffee 24/7—my body clock is shot to pieces from the years of travel, late nights, and artificial stimulants anyway, and if I want to sleep, a coffee or ten isn’t going to get in the way of that. I pass the time idly flicking through social media on my phone. The waiting is a bastard. I’m impatient any day of the week, let alone in situations like this, when time seems to stand still, or worse, move backward.

Just as I’m about to lose my mind, London emerges. Thank fuck.

Her expression is unreadable—damn, her poker face is getting better and better. I think some of my ways are rubbing off on her. She calmly and quietly takes a seat opposite me at the table, fixing me with a steady gaze. Uh-oh, she means business.

“So I’ve thought about what you’re offering, and before we go any further, I’d first of all like to again say thank you. The way you’ve thought about Squirt and me has truly blown me away. I’m genuinely touched. Like I said before, it’s the most amazing thing anyone’s ever done for me, and I really appreciate how much effort you went to, especially while I was in Australia and behaving like a total fucking diva.” She takes a deep breath, wrapping her arms around her body as though trying to give herself a comforting hug. I want to cross to her side of the table and replace her arms with mine, but I resist the temptation.

“The whole time I’ve known you, you’ve constantly surprised me with how amazingly thoughtful and generous you are. They’re some of your most endearing and surprising qualities. Contrary to popular belief, you have a huge heart, and I love that about you.” I can tell she’s building me up to let me down gently.

“But?” Might as well stop her beating around the bush and get to the guts of the matter.

“But as beautiful as the space is, and it is truly beautiful, I can’t just live in your converted boardroom like a squatter,”

What?

“You’d be nothing like a squatter, and it’s not my boardroom anymore. It’s a self-contained apartment, and it’s yours.”

“That’s all semantics. However you dress it up, it wouldn’t feel right.” She casts her eyes downward.

“London, why do you have to be so stubborn all the time? You’re overcomplicating this when it’s actually really fucking simple. I want to be near you and our baby. That’s it.” Probably not the best time to point out her shortcomings, but honestly, sometimes I just want to shake some sense into her. Figuratively, obviously. Literally, I’d like to fuck her into seeing things my way, but I’m pretty sure that’s not an option right now.

“I’m not being intentionally difficult, I’m just trying to think unemotionally about the offer you’ve put on the table and do what’s best for everyone. With that in mind, I’ve decided that if Squirt and I are to stay here—and definitely it’s if, not when—the only way it can work is if I pay market rent.”

“No.” Not until there’s a snowstorm in Hell.

“Yes. This is not negotiable, Arlo, it’s a total deal breaker for me. It’s this way or I start looking for somewhere else. Period.” So goddamn frustrating.

“For fuck’s sake, London. I am not taking rent from the mother of my baby. I don’t care what you say about that, it’s not gonna happen. Period.” Two can play at that game, Little Miss Stubborn.

“Then we don’t have a deal. Those are my terms. I have enough money coming in from book and print sales to mean that I won’t need to worry about working for months, even with rent and baby-related expenses. I want to pay my way, and I know I can make it work, so I’ll start looking for something in the morning. The jetlag is starting to catch up with me, so I’m going to go crash.” She makes to leave the table.

“Okay.” I swear this woman will be the death of me.

“What?” She doesn’t even try to mask her surprise.

“You heard me. I said okay.”

“Okay? Like okay we have deal, just like that? No Arlo tantrum or drama. Just okay?”

“I can see you’ve made up your mind, and I have nothing to bargain with in this ‘negotiation.’ I want you and Squirt here, and if the only way that’s going to happen is by agreeing to your crazy terms, then what choice do I have? You have me well and truly by the balls.” I really wish that were true in the literal sense, but I have a feeling that’s not going to be the case for a long time, if ever again.