17. Undisclosed Desires #2
I’ve never been this close to a baby this young before. It’s terrifying and alluring in the same breath.
“Absolutely I do. Come to Uncle Brody, sweet angel.” He rubs his hands together, practically vibrating with eagerness.
I half expect him to joke it off, but his sincerity catches me off guard. Charlotte rises, walks the few steps, and places Mia in his arms.
When Charlotte steps back, my ovaries explode.
Holy fuck.
Broderick—cradling a tiny infant in his big strong arms—makes my heart ache, twists in ways I never imagined.
He pats her tiny bottom, whispering little introductions as she sleeps, as if she already understands him. He’s such a natural.
I’m a whole mess of emotions, from awe that rattles my bones, to the instinct to run for the hills. These are feelings I definitely shouldn’t be having for my fuck buddy.
Charlotte and Elijah snap photos, oohing and aahing, talking about sending them into the family group chat.
I clear my throat. “Could I be a pain and use your bathroom?” I ask, desperate for distance, desperate to look at anything that isn’t Broderick holding a baby like he was born for it.
“Down the hall, first door on the right,” Charlotte says with a tired but luminous smile.
I make my exit, keen to gather my thoughts. In the bathroom, I wash my hands and stare at my reflection in the mirror.
He wants children, and you don’t even know what you want for dinner, I chide myself.
When I open the door to leave, I stop in my tracks, the conversation echoing down the hallway.
“Are you two together?” Elijah asks. “You haven’t brought a girl home since…Lauren.”
That’s the second time her name has come up—clearly an ex. I can’t help but wonder what she was like. My own history with Alex’s ex, Madison, makes me shudder.
Broderick chuckles. “We’re just friends.”
That’s exactly what we are. So why do I hate the way he says it?
“She’s beautiful,” Charlotte chimes in. “And the way you look at her suggests otherwise.”
“The most beautiful. But she’s not interested…still dealing with…things.”
I know exactly what he means. Things. Like Alex. The unresolved feelings that claw their way back whenever his name surfaces, whenever I catch a trace of his cologne, whenever I remember what barely had time to blossom before he shattered it—the night he broke my heart. I heave a sigh.
“Not like you to drop work for a girl, bro. What gives?”
“She needed me. I promised her I’d be here, and…I didn’t want to let her down.”
At those words, I want to run. Into his arms, down the street—anywhere.
They sit too heavy with expectation. I know he has feelings for me.
That’s what made it so easy to push him into agreeing to this arrangement.
Some small, selfish part of me knew he wouldn’t say no.
And now, it feels cruel to have cashed in on that—because I’m not sure I’m ready to give my heart away again when so much of it still feels tethered to someone else.
After we say our goodbyes, Broderick and I head back toward the city.
“Thank you for today,” I say quietly, my gaze fixes on the blur of trees outside the window.
“Did you have a good time?”
“I did. They’re wonderful—and little Mia is so squishy and cute.” The word slips out in a giggly rush, and I gigil over his niece.
He chuckles, eyes warm on me. “She’s really something. Elijah’s a lucky man.”
I nod and turn back to the window, the ache in my chest sharper than I want to admit.
“El—you sure you’re okay?” His thumb strokes my thigh, gentle, grounding.
“Are you?” I murmur. “Okay with all of this? I’d hate to think this…arrangement between us might be holding you back. Stopping you from finding someone who can give you all of that.”
He exhales slowly. “If I gave you that impression, I’m sorry.
But El, you’re not holding me back. You didn’t force me into this.
If anything, you probably gave me ten years of my life back.
Before you, I was killing myself with work.
These last few weeks with you—have been incredible.
A reprieve from the grind, from the noise.
You’ve reminded me there’s more to life than just the hustle. ”
I turn to face him, struck by the earnestness etched into his features. “If you want to stop, we can stop.” I look down at my hands, the way he looks at me is unbearable.
“I meant what I said,” he replies, steady. “I’m in. I’m all in, baby. If this is the only way you’ll let me have you, then I can live with that—for now.”
“For now.” My throat tightens. “But what if you get tired of this? Tired of me?”
Alex did, I think, bitterly. Less than three months with me, and he was gone—back into Madison’s arms.
“Hey.” His voice softens. “That’s not going to happen. We’re friends first, no matter what. You said you couldn’t lose me, right?”
I nod, blinking hard.
“Well, I can’t lose you either. I care about you, El. I really do. And it’s not just about the sex—though, for the record, it’s phenomenal. Honestly, before you came along and blew my brains out, I hadn’t had sex in over a year. My hand was about to riot, maybe even cut itself off.”
My jaw drops. “What? A year?” I scoff, shaking my head. “I don’t believe that. Surely, you’ve been leaving a trail of broken hearts and one-night stands across the globe.”
He shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his mouth. “I’m not like that—I can’t fuck someone without a connection.”
Chris pulls the car into the parking garage of my hotel, and Broderick and I are engulfed in patches of darkness.
“Ma’am, we’ve arrived. I’ll give you two privacy. Mr. Schwartz.” Chris nods before leaving the car.
His words hang between us, the silence thick, our breaths heavy with the desperation to cling to whatever this is between us.
“Who’s Lauren?”
I hear Broderick unclip his seatbelt and shift closer. “Lauren is my ex-girlfriend. We were together for two years. Broke up almost two years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was amicable—we grew apart. No bad blood. She’s married now.” His voice is flat, as though he’s long since put it behind him.
“Did you love her?”
“I did. For a time. But we fell out of love. We wanted different things.”
Relief loosens my shoulders. He isn’t tethered to her in some messy, lingering way. Enough time has passed that there’s no risk of her popping up with a surprise love child or unresolved feelings.
“Anything else you want to know?” His voice is patient, almost indulgent.
I chew on my lip for a moment before blurting, “How many people have you had sex with?”
He barks out a laugh, the tension leaving his body in the sound.
“Six.”
“Oh.” My eyebrows shoot up, surprised it isn’t more, and equally surprised it’s that many.
“Oh?” His mouth quirks. “You sound disappointed.”
“I’m not. Sorry—it’s fine. I don’t even know why I asked that,” I tease, attempting to cover the heat rising in my face.
“Alright, sweetheart, you’ve piqued my interest. Shoot. What’s your body count?”
I laugh nervously, my pulse stutters in my throat.
“How many people I’ve killed? None so far. But Andrew’s definitely at the top of that list,” I say, unclipping my seatbelt.
He chuckles.
“Elena,” he says, jabbing my side.
“It’s for me to know...” I reach for the door handle to leave.
I don’t even finish my sentence before he grabs my wrist. I squeal just before he yanks me into his lap, tickling my sides. He’s warm. I’m screaming with giggles, and my thigh brushes against his crotch—his bulge growing beneath me.
He groans in satisfaction, his tickling hands now gripping my waist, fingers pressing into the soft give of my flesh.