Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Prideful stubbornness. I get it, but still I have to make sure she understands she’ll be taken care of regardless. “Stephanie…I’m sure you’ll find something, but if you don’t, I will absolutely help you until you get on your feet.”
I expect her to rebuke me, but I’m surprised when her eyes soften. She rolls her body to face me and places a hand on my chest. “You’re sweet, Lucas. And you’ve been way cooler about all of this than I could have ever imagined. But I honestly can make it on my own.”
“Don’t let your pride get in the way of help if that—”
She cuts me off by pressing her fingers into my chest. “I have a lot in savings.”
My head tilts and my brows pull inward. “Define a lot.”
“As in I have extremely wealthy parents who have set up a modest trust fund for me,” she says with a hint of bitterness in her voice. “That’s how they love. With money. So I’ve got a cushion if I need it.”
“Have you ever needed it?” I ask curiously.
“Not once,” she says, and her eyes glow with pride, and fuck, I’m actually proud of her independent spirit too even though it completely destroyed her ability to let people in. “But I’ll use it if I have to.”
Immediately relief makes my entire body practically melt into the mattress. She should absolutely use that money if she has to, and I’m glad she’s not above doing it. If that’s the only way her parents can be responsible for their child, then she should absolutely take advantage of it.
I raise my hand and lightly grip her chin between my fingers. Leaning in, I brush my lips over hers and give my own reassurances. “If you don’t want to use it, I’m here. I’ll help, and you have to know, Stephanie, part of that is my responsibility. Keeping you safe and secure so our baby is safe and secure.”
She nods and gives me a small smile. “I appreciate that.”
But it’s not necessary, is wholly implied.
That’s okay. I’ve got nothing but time for Stephanie to warm up to something more if that’s what she might want to do.
And I really hope that’s what she wants to do. I’m not sure what the fuck has happened to me in the last several weeks, but I know I’m not the same Lucas Fournier that I was the night Stephanie and I first met. Funny how a little bean can change all that.
“So what’s going on with Simone?” Stephanie asks, and then laughs when I roll my eyes dramatically.
“She’s gone batshit crazy,” I mutter as I pull her back into my arms while I talk. “Dropped out of school. Hasn’t even been enrolled this past semester.”
“Did your parents know that?” she asks, and I’m fucking ecstatic when she doesn’t pull away, but instead burrows in closer to me.
I shake my head. “But they do now. I made her call them a few days ago when she showed up on my doorstep.”
“Assuming they weren’t happy?”
“They were pissed. They yelled at her for a good ten minutes, taking turns on the phone.”
“I can imagine,” she says empathetically as she pulls back slightly to look me in the face. “How long will she be in the doghouse?”
“She’s already out,” I tell her, and watch as her eyes round with surprise.
“Really?”
“My parents love us unconditionally, no matter how bad we may screw up in life. And they just want us to be happy, so after they got over the anger, they talked to her about what direction she needs to take.”
Stephanie tilts her head, her eyes troubled. “They just let it go?”
“Well, not sure they’re letting it go,” I say slowly. “They love her, and they even understand her, but they aren’t letting her get away with it. She has to pay back the money they’ve spent if she doesn’t complete her undergrad. And trust me when I say my parents will hold her feet to the fire on that.”
I get an amused chuckle and a shake of her head, making that glorious head of hair tumble over her shoulder and cover her breast as she says, “My parents would have handled that a little differently.”
“How?” I ask with interest, always wanting to learn more about those assholes so I can understand her even better.
She settles back down into my embrace, placing her head on my chest. “There was a time in my teens when I was quite rebellious. You know, sort of acting out and such. When they were off traveling, I was content to stay home and be a good girl. But if they were ‘in residence,’ as they liked to call it, I’d often do whatever I could to piss them off.”
“Why?” I ask, thoroughly confused why anyone would intentionally poke a bear.