Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

COOPER

NOVEMBER

Me

How do you feel?

Evan

Who is this?

Me

Are there other people in your life who saw you throw up into a trash can under your desk today?

Evan

Cooper?

Me

Of course it’s me.

Evan

How did you get my number?

Me

You have it public on the law firm intranet.

Evan

Something I’ll be fixing as soon as I’m at work tomorrow.

Me

You do what you need to do Rhodes, but that doesn’t change the fact that I have it now. So, how are you feeling?

Evan

I’m fine.

Me

But are you really?

Evan

Fuck no, I’m not fine. I’m fucking pregnant. With your baby.

Me

I think I remember you telling me something about that.

Evan

You’re joking with me right now?

Me

It’s either joke or scream.

Evan

Oh my god, you feel like screaming too? That makes me feel strangely better.

Me

What else would make you feel better?

Evan

To go back in time and use a condom.

Me

It’s telling you didn’t say to go back in time and not have fucked me in a conference room.

Evan

Nah, that part was pretty good.

Me

Just pretty good?

Evan

Okay, I’m only saying this because I’m so nauseous I could die, and you’ve held my hair back twice now when I’m throwing up over a trash can so my defenses are low. It was the best sex I’ve ever had.

Me

Same goes, Rhodes.

Evan

Thanks for checking in on me.

Me

It’s, like, the absolute least I can do.

Evan

It’s more than some people would do.

Good night, Cooper.

Me

Night, Rhodes.

I drop my phone down on the bed next to me and stare up at the ceiling, thinking about Evan’s last text.

It’s more than some people would do.

That has not been my experience in life—not with a family like mine—and it makes me wonder what her family is really like.

Whether she’ll have their support. She seems close to her brother, but she’s made little comments here and there that make me think her relationship with her parents is… less than great.

That weird protectiveness I felt when I saw Evan sick and vulnerable rises again, and I wonder if it’s just because she’s suddenly pregnant with my child or if it’s…more than that. I don’t know, but I do know one thing. There’s no way I’m sleeping tonight.

Take care of her.

My dad’s voice in my head has me shoving the covers off and jumping out of bed.

Padding down the hall to the kitchen, I flip the lock on my apartment door, ensuring that no brothers can barge in uninvited.

I put on one of the true crime podcasts that Amelia has me addicted to and then open the cabinet where I keep my cereal.

Taking all the boxes out and setting them on the counter, I pop open the false backing on the cabinet that hides my decades-long con, revealing my secret stash of baking supplies.

Grabbing everything I need, I put the cabinet back together and then spend the next few hours measuring, stirring, and weighing, lost in my happiest place until the stars fade and the sky starts to brighten with the first hints of morning.

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