The Anti-Boyfriend Read online Penelope Ward

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
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Fuck, she’s adorable.

“You like mirrors, huh? Well, at least I know one way to entertain you if all else fails.” I whispered in her ear, “I’ll tell you a secret. I like them, too. I look at myself way too much in this mirror before I go out. But I won’t admit that to anyone but you.”

She laughed as if she could understand me, but she was probably just still amused by looking at herself.

When we returned to Carys’s apartment, it was time for Sunny’s breakfast. When I put her down in the highchair, she started to cry.

Shit. I knew this was a bad idea. “What’s wrong? What did I do?” I spoke to her like she was going to give me an answer.

After I lifted her out, the crying stopped. She looked up at me with her teary eyes, and I realized this was a repeat of that one night. She wanted to be held.

“Oh. We’re back here again?”

She just kept looking up at me until she smiled.

“No, no, no. What’s that for? You tryin’ to butter me up or something? So I’ll hold you? Not gonna work.”

She smiled even bigger.

A second time, I put her in the highchair. Once again, she started screaming.

“Shit,” I said. Then I cursed myself silently for swearing in front of her. “You didn’t hear that.”

Picking her up again, I worked to open the jar of bananas while holding her at the same time. I ended up feeding her while standing up. She must have been super hungry because she kept opening her mouth wide before I could even get the next bit of bananas onto the spoon.

“Damn, girl. You’re hungry, huh?”

Then it occurred to me: what goes in must come out. I shook that thought from my head, vowing once again to deal with it only when I had to.

The spoon finally hit the bottom of the jar, and there was nothing left.

She licked her lips.

Carys had left another jar of bananas on the counter, so I assumed we’d just keep this going. She devoured that one just as fast as the first.

Still holding her, I grabbed a piece of paper towel and turned on the water to wet it before wiping her mouth clean.

“Alright. Step one finished. You should be good for a while, right? I’m gonna try to put you down in the swing, so I can check my emails.”

The second her bottom hit the seat of the swing, she started to fidget uncomfortably and broke out in tears.

Damn it!

I told myself I was going to stick it out. Let her cry. But after five minutes of pacing while she screamed, I caved.

“Okay, okay. You win.” I lifted her out.

We walked back over to the couch and sat.

“We have to stop meeting like this, Sunny.”

Now, that she was calm, she looked up into my eyes. There was something so amazing about watching a baby stare at you with pure wonder. What was she thinking? Or maybe she was just seeing her reflection.

Then she smiled again.

At least she was happy.

I was already exhausted. It was only two hours into the day, and it had felt like I’d been here for months. If someone had told me yesterday that I’d be stuck inside an apartment today with a baby, I would’ve dreaded it. But the reality wasn’t so bad—just different. Tiring, yes. But I could see, in theory, why people liked children—especially when she was content.

When the clock struck ten, I realized it was time for the dreaded diaper change. I got up and walked with Sunny over to her room. Please don’t be crap.

After lying her down on the changing table and opening up the diaper at the sides, I was relieved to find only piss.

Score one: Deacon.

Trying to remember the steps Carys had shown me, I changed Sunny into a fresh diaper as fast as possible.

Returning to the main room, I looked at the clock. Jesus. Was it only ten thirty?

It felt like eleventy-hundred years at this point.

At eleven, I gave her the sweet potatoes and peas, then followed it up with formula as instructed—all while holding her in my arms so she wouldn’t freak out.

The formula went down smoothly. Carys hadn’t specified whether to burp her, but it made sense to try. After a moment I was damn glad I had because a belch the size of Gibraltar came out.

A text from Carys came in right around 11:30.

Carys: How is everything going?

I laughed out loud. Could you imagine if I were honest?

Sunny won’t let me put her down, so my arm is numb, and I’m trying to figure out how I’m supposed to wipe my own ass later when the time comes. How do you do this every day, Carys? HOW DO YOU DO IT?

I responded using voice-to-text since holding Sunny made it a difficult to type.


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