Jordan pulled on a pair of leggings and a loose-fitting top and grabbed a fresh cup of coffee from the kitchen before heading out to her patio. It’d been days since she’d hung out in her apartment. Because apparently, a few kisses was all it took for Brandon to persuade her to spend every night at his place. They’d been completely inseparable since his birthday. She’d even begun to think it was time to tell their friends, but the last thing she wanted was to be inaccurate.
So she’d left work early to sort through her feelings without Brandon’s sexy distractions.
Over the past week, her hope had been restored. She didn’t know if it was because she’d confided in Brandon about everything or because he knew how to take care of her so well. Yesterday, she’d joined him at a museum for lunch, where he’d held her hand as they walked and talked, enjoying each other’s company and love for art. The night before that, she’d accompanied him and his friends to a musical at the theatre, and whenever it was possible to touch each other without their friends noticing, they indulged—she holding his arm when they walked through a crowd, him grazing a finger over her thigh when sitting next to her.
This morning he’d left her alone in his bed before even roosters would crow, and she already missed him. He hadn’t been there showering her with kisses and cuddling her close when she’d woken up, which he’d been doing for days now. Sarah and Andrew’s engagement party was only a few hours away, and she and Brandon would again have to keep their hands off each other until everyone left.
She sighed.
She was ready to come out of the dark with him. He’d been good to her, and she had a feeling this time was different. He was more open, and she trusted him, but an engagement party wasn’t the place to deliver the good news. Gosh. She grinned. People would probably act like she and Brandon were the ones engaged, not Sarah and Andrew. But tomorrow, they could tell everyone.
The neighbor’s kids rode around on bikes, chasing each other, and she smiled at what used to make her sad. Now she could envision the kids being hers one day. Just not anytime soon.
She’d gotten on the pill a few days ago—not that she planned to have unprotected sex until she knew Brandon was clean, but she wasn’t ready for the pregnancy kind of oops in her life again. Her next pregnancy would be planned; she would be in love, or married even.
Drinking her coffee, she pictured the whole thing until Brandon’s salacious grin popped into her mind. Smiling, she pulled her phone out.
He’d been so cautious and sympathetic with her, but she was ready for more now. Nervously, she pressed the keys on her phone.
Jordan: I want you to fuck me hard tonight. And Brandon, hard. Make me forget?
She hoped he’d read between the lines to see what she was really asking.
A few hours later, he sent her a smiley-face emoticon, which made her smile but also frown a little inside. She needed to feel what rough sex was like with Brandon, but also forget what it had been like with Todd. Immediately, she wondered what she was even asking of him. It was wrong, she shouldn’t have—
Brandon: It’ll be my pleasure, beautiful. Busy day. I can’t wait to see you.
“Jordan, yay! I’m so glad you’re here!” Sarah cheered, running to embrace her as she walked into Brandon’s now-festive house. “I love your outfit! You know what? You should be designing my wedding dress. I’m serious. Think about it.”
Jordan had on what looked to be a sleeveless cocktail dress, but was actually a coordinated two-piece set. Specifically, a black and pink banded crop top with a high-waisted skirt, exposing a small part of her abdomen in the front and stopping a few inches above her knees.
“Thanks, but look at you!”
Sarah was dressed in an emerald cocktail dress, her hair now jet black, not the purple ombré Jordan had gotten used to seeing.
“You didn’t tell me you were dyeing your hair.”
Sarah clasped her hands together. “I know. It was an on-the-spot decision. Now people won’t look at me like I’m a freak. Anyway, the DJ is already setting up, but I could use your help over here. I’ve been trying to put these decorations on the wall. Maybe you can reach; you’re a few inches taller than me.”
A chair was positioned next to the wall, surrounded by different-sized gold bubbles it seemed Sarah was trying to stick around the Congratulations Sarah and Andrew sign. Jordan kicked off her heels at the foot of the chair and managed to climb up. She took one of the bubbles and stretched to stick it above the sign, but she wasn’t tall enough either. At the feeling of being watched, she paused and surrendered to the awakening butterflies.
Sarah’s next statement confirmed her instincts.
“Brandon! We could use your help over here, if you’d stop looking at Jordan like she’s dessert.”
Jordan turned, and without even looking at Brandon, her face heated. Examining her tight skirt, she curled a finger at the side of her mouth, mumbling, “Hmm . . . how did I get up here again?”
“I think that’s why I’m here.” Brandon walked to the chair, raised his hands to her waist, and lifted her down. To hide the stupid grin on her face, and maybe just to push his limits a bit, she bent down to put her shoes on, her rear end smack in front of him. At the sound of a distinctive inhale, she smiled.
“Sarah, you know what?” Brandon said. “This is your party. You don’t have to lift a finger. Jordan and I have this covered.”
He was trying to get her alone, but she also imagined the text message she’d sent earlier was on his mind.
“No way. I want to help. Besides, decorating is the best part of not hiring an event planner. Oh, Stephanie is coming, by the way. And she said you haven’t called her. So please don’t be a dick to her while she’s here.”
No, Sarah. Not touchy-feely Stephanie, Jordan mentally whined. She didn’t care if women like Tina texted Brandon, because he was home with her. But when Stephanie was here in person, and ready to sink her fingers into him, how was she supposed to keep up her he’s-just-my-friend front?
She and Brandon stayed apart for the rest of the evening, mostly because she was chatting with Richie and Adrianna, but also because being in his vicinity was way too tantalizing.
“Oh, and who is that?” Richie asked at one point, looking toward Brandon. “He is on my breakfast, lunch, dinner, and all over again list.”
Adrianna and Richie, being two peas in a pod, were calling dibs on who they wanted to sleep with.
“Oh no, that one’s off limits,” Adrianna muttered. “Jordan has dibs.”
Richie wrapped an arm around Jordan’s shoulders. “Ah, what? Jordan, tell me you haven’t been holding out on me. I want all the deets, starting with the size of his cock.”
Jordan groaned. “Adrianna, quit gossiping. There aren’t any details to share.” She caught Brandon looking over like he knew they were talking about him. Seeming annoyed, his jaw tensed as he looked away. She had explained her platonic friendship with Richie, but she could tell he was uncomfortable with it. Her heart clenched at the thought of upsetting him.
A little while later, Jordan spotted Stephanie talking to Brandon, her tiny body inches from his, and a finger curling into a belt loop on the front of his slacks. Jordan frowned, her heart dropping into her stomach.
Feeling less like the goddess she’d been at the beginning of the night, she finished the remains of her champagne and excused herself to the bathroom.
Leaning her hands against the counter, she stared at her reflection. Not even a minute later, her head spun to the sound of the door closing. She’d let herself into Brandon’s personal bathroom since it was private and off limits to the crowd. But as she watched Brandon’s fingers push the lock to close, and then move to switch on the fan, her heart raced. He couldn’t possibly think she’d have sex with him right now?
“Remove your underwear. We’ll talk later. Right now, I need to fuck you.”
Something was different, a hardness in his demeanor she’d never seen before—like he was upset with her. But why? She hadn’t done anything. Too intimidated to meet his gaze, she followed his instructions, dropping the black lace on the counter and smoothing down her skirt. Her eyes followed him in the mirror as he walked toward her, his white shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, the hem tucked neatly into his pants. He stopped behind her, and she swallowed, confused and speechless as he pulled her hips into his groin. Her dismay drained at the feel of his thick erection enticing her to come out and play. Inhaling a long breath, she let it out slowly. Because even with the running fan and the resounding music on the other side of the wall, the air in the room preserved its stillness. He stepped away from her, and she felt a sudden chill at the loss.
Still not meeting her eyes, he walked to the sink, washed his hands, and dried them on a nearby towel.
“Do you want me?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest.
Meeting his eyes for the first time, she nodded.
“Good. Place your hands on the counter and spread your legs.” Unbuckling his pants, he walked up next to her, cupped her head, and pressed his lips to her ear. “Am I scaring you?”
A warm thrill darted through her, and her nipples tightened as she met his rainforest eyes in the mirror.
“No,” she whispered, and then she remembered. The text. She hadn’t expected him to act on it while his house was jam-packed with people. As she thought of everyone on the other side of the wall, Stephanie’s petite frame stood front and center. “You let her touch you.”
“You let him touch you,” he said, flattening his hand over her stomach.
“It’s different; he’s just a friend.”
Brandon’s jaw ticked as he centered himself behind her and rolled her skirt up to her waist. This moment felt more intimate than the others as she bared everything to him and he revealed nothing in return. His hand dipped between her thighs and massaged.
She relaxed into him, and his warm breath tickled her neck as he breathed, “I’ll only stop if you tell me to.”
Snubbing the fear shivering through her, she inhaled. “I won’t tell you to.”
Ripping the condom wrapper open with his teeth, he pulled her hips toward his body while pushing her chest to the surface of the counter. The smooth, heated skin of his erection brushed against her, and she knew she was dripping wet even before his fingers slipped between her folds. She watched him lift his hand and winced in anticipation of the sting, but when his palm connected with her bottom, the echo was the worst of it. In fact, the spank was so precise, she wanted him to do it again, but throwing her off, he tunneled inside of her. A loud gasp left her from the sudden fullness, and then she was biting her lip as he spanked her once, then twice before caressing the sensitive spot. Gripping her hips, he fucked her hard and fast, incoherent words spewing from her lips as he shoved deeper, burying himself to the hilt.
The overwhelming pleasure melted her onto the counter, but he grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head back, arching her back.
“How does it feel?” he growled.
“Good,” she moaned. Maybe it was because she knew how gentle he could be, but she couldn’t get enough. “Harder, please,” she begged, then flinched. She’d said that to Todd once upon a time.
Brandon pulled out of her with a duo of cruel spanks, but the immense pleasure obscured the pain. At this point Todd would’ve punched her, but that didn’t happen. Hurriedly, she brushed away a tear as Brandon unzipped her top, spun her around, and set her on the counter. He ran a hand up her torso to the base of her neck and cupped her throat as he entered her. Her hips writhed against him, wanting more. Before realizing it, she ripped apart his shirt, turning buttons into projectiles as they pinged across the floor and mirror. Tossing her bra to the side, his tongue and teeth teased her while adept fingers twisted and pulled. She bit her moans into his shoulder, then held him tight as he secured his hands beneath her thighs. Lifting her off the counter, he pumped into her, sending sensations streaming through her veins and sparking the bundle of nerves so bright she grew scared of the explosion. It was too much, but before she could catch her breath, he slammed her back into the wall and she came with a crash, tears springing to her eyes from the powerful force of her orgasm.
“Oh my God, Brandon!” Jordan yelped, squirming between the cold wall and his heated body. But he was unyielding, continuing to pummel into her as her sex rippled around him over and over again, pulling him deeper each time. She fell against him, dazed from the strongest orgasm she’d ever had, but still aware of every bit of his body’s vibration as he let out an animalistic groan, crushing her farther against the wall.
When she opened her eyes, a gorgeous, glistening face came into view. He smiled and pressed enchanting kisses across her cheek and mouth. “If I didn’t have a condom, I would have impregnated you. No fucks given. Seriously, you have the best pussy. The best.”
Giggling, Jordan wiped the sweat from his forehead. He said the darnedest things when he was inside her.
While Brandon tucked in a shirt that looked exactly like the one he’d had on before, Jordan reapplied her light pink lipstick and tried to pat down the mess her hair had become. Unusually quiet, and seemingly deep in thought, Brandon stared at his reflection.
“Is everything okay?” she asked, walking to him.
He tapped the tips of his fingers on the counter. “Are you on birth control?”
“Yeah, I just started. Why? Did something happen with the condom?”
Biting his lip, he scratched his neck and lowered his gaze. “The condom we used in Utah had holes in it.”
A low feeling settled in her stomach. “What? Why are you just telling me this?”
As he raised his hand to touch her, she backed away. “It was never the right time.”
“I’ve been sleeping here every freaking night. How could it have not been the right time?”
“Because everything has been so good between us. I didn’t want to mess that up.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “And then I figured most girls are on some kind of birth control. I kind of hoped you were too.”
“But you knew I wasn’t screwing anyone until you. Why would I be on birth control? It’s not a fucking happy pill. It sucks. Girls don’t go around popping them like party animals. It’s need-based, Brandon. Fucking need-based.” The smile pulling at his lips fired so much anger through her, she wanted to cry. “Even after knowing what happened to me, this is a joke to you? I trusted you. When was the last time you even got tested—or does it matter since you go around using holey condoms? Who knows how many girls you’ve knocked up by this point.”
His silence spurred her on.
“So, I’m guessing this is the real you? Girls pour their hearts out, tell you what makes them vulnerable, trust you, and then you just stomp—” Tears burned behind her eyes as a huge sob rose in her throat, but she couldn’t cry, not right now. Not in front of him.
“I get tested all the time,” he finally said. “I’m clean. Also, in my experience, the person who meddles with the condoms is the person I’m sleeping with—not me. And I’m usually more careful, but you’re my friend, so I didn’t even think about it. Actually, you know what? It’s not entirely my fault, because as I recall, somebody wanted the lights off.”
“Are you trying to say I did that?” She watched as he shook his head, and a new pain surfaced as she began to process everything. “Is that why you came to my room that night? To remind me I needed to take a morning-after pill?”
Brandon blew out a breath. “No, Jordan. Fuck! Kelly was the one with access to my wallet and condoms. I’m guessing she thought I was going to sleep with her—I don’t know, okay? I came to your room when I realized what had happened with the condom, and you were sad. I didn’t want to make it worse, so I didn’t tell you. Can we talk about this later?”
Her chest grew heavy. “You watched me drink champagne tonight when I could be pregnant—even after I shared with you what happened to me, and what happened to my baby.” Shaking her head, she bolted to the door. He caught her arm, his touch singeing her skin. “Please, don’t. I can’t be around you right now.”
The heartbreaking truth of having someone she trusted lie to her—even by omission—struck her, kicking her thoughts into a swirling confusion again. Was he such a womanizing bastard that he couldn’t let her be? He had to ruin her too, leaving her possibly pregnant and infected with some disease he probably caught from one of the million chicks he couldn’t stop himself from screwing.
As soon as she opened the door to Brandon’s room, Andrew came in, and her disgust at the entire situation materialized into an unreserved queasiness making its way up. Covering her mouth, she rushed past Brandon right back into the bathroom.
“Hey. Sarah is . . .” Andrew started before pausing. “Wait a minute, what’s this? What’s going on? And, dude, there’s no way you can lie your way out of this one.”
Jordan dropped to her knees at the toilet, throwing up everything she’d consumed.
“Uh, she’s not feeling well,” Brandon said.
Brandon didn’t come back to the bathroom, but Andrew did, bringing her a towel. She couldn’t decide if she should be upset at Brandon for leaving her alone or thankful he was giving her the space she’d asked for. Either way, she felt used, neglected, and disgusted with herself.
At nine in the morning, the sunlight outside was evident at the corners of her black-out drapes, but she preferred the darkness inside. It was soothing to her tarnished soul. Feeling broken and disgruntled after a restless night’s sleep, she hugged her pillow. Holding everything inside was killing her, and some words of advice from Adrianna would be appreciated. But what would she say? “I took your advice to get laid and it backfired, possibly leaving me knocked up and with twenty sexually transmitted diseases.”
Brandon hadn’t even tried to contact her since she left the party last night. Not one phone call or text. And considering she was dying to text him, she had started to wonder if he’d already given up on her, given up on a problem he’d created. What if she was pregnant? Would he forget her and the baby? Or tell her to have an abortion? Too many tears . . . Why won’t they stop already?
Her phone buzzed next to her, and her heart skipped a beat. But of course it wasn’t him, just a message from Sarah.
Sarah: I didn’t see you leave last night. Andrew said you weren’t feeling well. Are you okay?
Jordan: Yeah. Just still a little under the weather.
Sarah: Brandon was moping after . . . I think he was worried about you.
When she didn’t respond, Sarah called. She didn’t want to talk, but it was kind of hard to feign an excuse when she’d been texting moments before, so she cleared her throat and answered. “Hey.”
Sarah’s voice sounded groggy, like she’d just woken up. “Hey, so talk to me. And don’t bullshit me, either. Because I’ve known Brandon for years, and I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you.”
“I don’t really want to talk about it. But since you asked, I feel like such an idiot for liking him. He’s despicable and horrible at anything that matters—like realizing that I’m going completely crazy over him. And I hate that. I don’t want to feel this way. I don’t want to like him. It fucking sucks, Sarah!”
Everything spilled before she could stop it. The confession alone lifted a ton off her shoulders, but made way for an even heavier burden. She didn’t just like Brandon. She was in love with him. Her eyes filled with more tears. Dammit.
“Remember when we were getting our nails done, and I asked you about Brandon? You told me you guys were good friends, like, you could sit and talk about anything. Then I asked you about Greg, and you said he didn’t make you feel vulnerable. He was sweet and safe. But you broke up with him. Did you break up with him because of Brandon?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know. It didn’t feel right. God, I’m so pathetic.”
Sarah sighed. “I didn’t want you and Brandon to date because you’re my cool new friend, and frankly, it never worked out with anyone he does his friends-with-benefits shit with. I can tell you that Stephanie was pretty pissed last night and also left early, so there goes another friend. But as I said, the way he looks at you and the way you two treat each other, drive each other crazy—someone would be blind not to see there’s something between you. So, take that however you want, because now you’re my friend, and he’s my friend, which means I’m Switzerland. But I’m sure you guys will figure it out.”
Jordan’s mouth quirked in amusement for the first time since last night. It felt good getting someone else’s perspective, even if it wasn’t much.
“So, what I got from that is, he doesn’t commit, but good luck trying to make him.”
Sarah laughed. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. I’m just trying to make you feel better while telling you the truth.”
“Well, I guess you did make me feel a little better. Thank you. Is Andrew there with you?” She almost wanted to spill the beans about sleeping with Brandon—if Sarah hadn’t already read between the lines. But she didn’t.
“No, he went to work. I teach yoga at ten at the studio. You should come release some of that tension, or come to one of my pole-dancing classes later.”
“Maybe another day. I need to go make coffee or something,” Jordan said, without moving from her sprawled-out position on the bed.
After hanging up with Sarah, her mind wandered back to Stephanie and Kelly and how quickly Brandon had gotten rid of them. And how could she forget that text from Tina? Four girls, including herself, in one week, chasing after a man who didn’t want to be caught. Was that why he’d agreed so easily not to tell anyone about them? Was he planning to get rid of her too? Even with a baby? His baby?
Oh my God, stop thinking, Jordan. Stop . . .
Jordan stood inches from the door, unable to move. Subtle knocks had turned into punches, causing the door to vibrate in its frame. It was three in the afternoon. He’d waited almost all day to call or text and then showed up. What was wrong with him?
“Jordan, I know you’re in there.”
Her heart felt like the pincushion she wore on her wrist most days. Each time he spoke, another needle penetrated.
“I can’t see you right now.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t.” Tears spilled down her cheeks.
“You don’t have to do this alone.”
Maintaining silence, she stepped forward, only to lean her back against the door and slide to the floor.
“Jordan,” Brandon pleaded. “I’m sorry.”
“I can’t do this with you.” Sniffling, she swiped a tear from her eye.
“No, you don’t mean that, Jordan.” He paused for a beat before continuing. “I can’t lose you this time. I was being stupid. Please, we need to talk about this, and I’m leaving town for a few days. I should be at the airport already, but I can’t leave without seeing you. So unless you want me to get into your apartment using any means necessary—like calling one of my guys to remove the door from its hinges—you might as well open up.”
As much as she wanted to send him away, she wanted to see him too. Using her hands to fan her face, she took a deep breath and opened the door.
Brandon breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of her and cupped her face in his hands. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how or why I didn’t say anything. It was stupid. I’m not good at doing this, but I want to be better. I’m so sorry.”
He wrapped her in an embrace, and she held him, enjoying the warmth and completeness he brought her. And it was confusing, because she should’ve been mad at him, but she couldn’t find the strength anymore.
“Whatever is happening between us scares me, especially now that it’s hurting,” Jordan said. “How do I know when to quit before . . . it’s too late?”
Her last, unhealthy relationship had lasted three years, and it took the help of her best friends to get her out of it, even after she’d lost the baby. She didn’t want to be that girl again—the one who was too ashamed and devoted to quit even when she was hurting.
“It scares me, too, and I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you. It’s the last thing I wanted to do. That’s why I didn’t tell you. I was afraid, but I know that was wrong. I won’t keep anything from you again, I promise.” He rubbed his hands over her back. “Please, just don’t quit on me. I need you, Jordan.”
She nodded, then sighed. “My mind still goes to all those girls . . . I feel like you’ve fucked everyone. It sucks.” She shook her head. “How do I know, Brandon? How do I know I’m any different than—”
“This wasn’t some grand plan to keep you around until I fucked you, and you should know that. I’ve kept you in my life because I knew I wasn’t good enough for you, but I still wanted anything I could get, even just your friendship. But we’re past that point now. You’ve made me want to be better, and I am determined to be what you need. But I can’t change my past. I wish I could, but I can’t. You just have to trust me, Jordan, because the day you gave yourself to me, I became yours. I don’t want anyone else.”
Jordan lifted her head so she could see his face, unable to hide her smile. “I thought girlfriends weren’t your thing.”
“You’re my thing, and you’re mine, which makes you my girlfriend.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I wish I didn’t have to go, but I’ll be in Australia for two days closing a deal and working through some details. Then I need to get back in time for the charity event. Damn, I almost forgot—stay here. Don’t move!”
Brandon ran down the stairs to his car and returned with a brown paper bag and flowers. “I didn’t know which you’d like more, so I got them both—doughnuts and chocolate truffles.”
Her brows puckered. “So you’re trying to get me fat in more ways than one.”
The warmth in his eyes melted her. “We have so much to talk about. See you when I get back?”
Setting the flowers in water, Jordan read the handwriting on a folded piece of paper stuck to the box of truffles. It does matter. She opened it to find his STD testing results, and he was right. She shook her head in wonder. He was clean.
She plopped down on her couch and popped one of the truffles into her mouth, savoring the creamy chocolate. Oh, shit—she hadn’t even read the ingredients. She flipped the box over and relaxed when she didn’t see any traces of nuts. That was close. But something told her Brandon had already thought of that.
For the rest of the day, Jordan found relaxation the only way she knew how: by sketching. When she went to bed that night, she had the satisfaction of adding a few potential designs to her spring collection.
The next morning, Jordan awoke missing Brandon’s kisses, though she’d had a better night’s sleep. With him on her mind, she texted, using something she needed from his place as an excuse.
Jordan: My iPad is at your house.
Brandon: Yeah, I know. It’s on my nightstand.
Brandon: It’s one a.m. here.
Jordan: Oh! I’m sorry. Did I wake you?
Brandon: No, my body is still on Los Angeles time. I can’t sleep.
Jordan: That sucks . . . can I swing by your place and get my iPad? I need it for a lunch meeting.
Brandon: Yeah, of course.
She got into his house without any problems. The maid must have cleaned up the mess from the party, because everything was spotless, but lonely without Brandon. She headed to his dresser, pulled out one of his folded T-shirts, and held it to her nose, breathing him in.
Jordan: I’m taking one of your shirts.
Brandon: Which shirt?
Jordan: Your favorite one.
Brandon: You don’t know my favorite shirt.
Jordan: It’s navy blue and green, and it says Cool Kid on the front.
Brandon: Damn, I love that shirt.
Jordan grinned. She knew it had to be one of his regular shirts since it was on the top, but now it was her favorite shirt. It was the shirt he’d had on the first night she’d slept over, the night he’d cried in her arms. One of the many nights she’d fallen a little more for Brandon Kuvat. Though she knew they had challenges ahead, falling didn’t seem quite so scary or unwise now.
Her phone rang, and she answered as she sat on the edge of his bed and lay back, clasping his shirt to her chest.
“This is so weird because I have your shirt with me right now,” Brandon said, his deep voice soothing. “Good thing I didn’t have to go through customs, because I don’t know how I would have explained your tiny pink camisole.”
“Are you serious?” She knew she’d left it with a few other things in his closet, but she hadn’t expected him to take it. “Guys don’t do that!”
“Well, I thought about taking your underwear, but that would be a little creepy.”
Jordan laughed. God, she missed him.
“I would only have to make one call to get you on a jet over here. What do you say?”
“Hmm, that you’re crazy, but maybe next time. I have some things to take care of the next few days.”
Jordan bit her lip before asking, “Why didn’t you call or text me after I left the engagement party?”
“Because I knew you wouldn’t have answered.”
“You didn’t know that.”
“Would you have answered?”
“No,” she huffed. “But you stole the satisfaction I would have gotten from not answering your call.”
Brandon laughed.
“Shut up, it would have made me feel better.”
“I’m sorry, beautiful. How about I hang up now and call you back so you can ignore my call.”
“It’s not the same.”
“I know, but it’ll make you feel better.”
He caught on fast.
“Fine. Talk to you later.”
She stared at her phone as it vibrated, then smiled as she pressed answer. “Hello?”
“Hey, sweetheart, I’m so glad you answered. I’m just checking in to make sure you got home safe, and also to tell you I’m sorry for fucking everything up. I’m an idiot sometimes, and I may make some more mistakes along the way before I can be the man you deserve, but I promise we’ll get through this together. And whether or not you’re pregnant with our baby, there’s no one else I would rather do this with.”
Tears filled her eyes, and this time they weren’t from sadness.