Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 140184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 701(@200wpm)___ 561(@250wpm)___ 467(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 701(@200wpm)___ 561(@250wpm)___ 467(@300wpm)
I sigh and smile like a fool again, kissing his muscled back through his clothing. “Anyway, I wouldn’t think that. I love cooking with you.”
“I love cooking with you, too,” he assures me as I let go of him and take a step back. “But for now, you can relax.”
Since I know Jonathan is nearby, I lower my voice so I’m not overheard. “Have you updated him about the pregnancy thing yet?”
“I have not. I figured that was your news to share, but I can tell him if you don’t want to.”
It’s tempting to let him do it, but I’m no coward. “No, it’s okay. I’ll go do it now.” Stopping at the refrigerator for a cold beer, I take a deep breath and tell myself it won’t be weird.
It probably will, though. I’ve never had to tell a guy I am seeing I’m not having his baby, after all, let alone one whose dad I’m dating instead.
So. Awkward.
Once I’ve taken the cap off the bottle, I paste a smile on my face and head to the living room.
Jonathan glances up when I come into view.
I drop onto the couch cushion beside him.
He looks over at me as if I must be lost, then his gaze flickers to the beer in my hand and his eyebrows rise. “Hard day?”
I thrust the bottle toward him. “I brought it for you.”
His eyes narrow with suspicion, but he takes it, anyway. “Thanks.” When I only nod wordlessly in response, he studies me more closely before concluding why I’m here. “Does someone have a guilty conscience?” he taunts.
“What?”
His guess makes my stomach twist up in knots.
He smirks, tipping back the bottle and taking a swig. “You finally let my dad pound that sweet pussy so you brought me a beer to make up for it.”
“Ew. Don’t say things like that.”
His blue eyes glitter with amusement. “I appreciate the gesture. If you really want to make it up to me, I have some much dirtier ideas.”
Huffing with annoyance, I say, “This is not an apology beer, and there will be no further ‘making it up to you.’”
“Further, she says.”
My cheeks flush and I can’t help feeling a little defensive. “I would not feel the need to apologize for sleeping with your dad.”
He laughs. “That sounds pretty fucked up when you say it that way.”
Flustered, I mutter, “Just drink your beer and be quiet.”
He grins and takes another sip. “Yes, dear.”
Why is he making this so much harder than it needs to be?
I feel sick to my stomach, and I don’t know why.
I guess I do. I don’t dislike Jonathan anymore. I may tease him and give him a hard time sometimes, but it’s all good-natured. I don’t want to be mean to him.
But it’s not being mean. I’m sharing great news.
It only feels like being mean because the big jerk won’t stop flirting with me and playing with my emotions. I can never tell if he’s serious or not.
“I really like you,” I blurt.
His smile drops.
“I mean, not like…” My heart races. I’m going to die of awkwardness right here and now. “I want us to be— I don’t want…”
His tone isn’t as teasing as before, but he tries for reassuring since I’m being a whole wreck. “Relax, stray. You’ll have a fucking coronary. It’s not that serious.”
Tell that to my fluttery heart and sweating palms. “I know you like to be mean to me for fun sometimes, but I don’t want to be mean or really hurt you in any way—not that I even can, but I just… I appreciate all you’ve done for me, and I genuinely like you. I enjoy this playful relationship between us, and I don’t want anything to mess it up.”
“I’m a pretty sturdy guy,” he assures me. “It’ll take more than a little thing like you to shake me.”
“I wasn’t suggesting... I just wanted to tell you in this immensely awkward way, apparently…”
He smirks again, his blue eyes glinting with amusement. “That you like me.”
I roll my eyes, annoyed at the fact. “Yes.”
“You should’ve jotted down ‘do you like me? Check yes or no’ on a piece of notebook paper and slid it to me. Would’ve been easier.”
He may not be rattled, but I certainly am. I don’t know if it’s because he genuinely doesn’t care, or he’s not getting what I’m saying because I’m saying it so clumsily.
“I’m also super in love with your dad,” I blurt, watching his face with my stomach aching to see how he takes it.
Nothing seems to change. He nods wordlessly, but doesn’t appear to be surprised.
“And I’m not pregnant,” I add, though I feel like I buried the lead.
I still can’t tell what he’s thinking.
Tears burn behind my eyes, completely horrifying me. I’m always a little emotional at the start of a cycle, and I’ve been incredibly emotional over the past few days. My emotional state is not entirely back to where it should be, and even if it were, I wouldn’t know how to handle a situation like this.