Chapter 1 #3
“You’ll drop them again.” He says it gently, which is worse. “Which floor?”
My stomach drops faster than those eggs did. “Second. But you really don’t have to—the building door’s right there, I can manage from—”
“Second floor.” He’s already moving toward the entrance.
I scramble ahead of him, fumbling my key into the lock, and the whole climb up the stairwell, my mind is sprinting somewhere else entirely.
Please be asleep. Please, baby, be asleep.
It’s past nine. She gets sleepy by eight on a good night.
The lights were off from the street, I think. I couldn’t tell through the rain.
He follows me down the hall, easy and unbothered, water dripping off him onto the carpet. I stop at our door with my pulse stuttering against my ribs.
“You can just set them down out here,” I try. “I’ll bring them in. Really, this is more than enough, you’ve already—”
“Open the door, Jessa.” Not a command, just a tired man holding a week of someone’s groceries in the dark.
I open it.
The apartment is dim, one lamp burning low in the corner, the hallway to the bedrooms black.
No small voice, no patter of feet. My shoulders come down an inch.
He steps past me, crosses to the little kitchen table, then sets everything down with a care I didn’t expect, as if he understands it’s the only food I’ve got.
“There.” He straightens, glancing once around the bare little room, taking it in without comment. “All in one piece. Mostly.”
“Thank you.” I’m already turning to herd him back out. “I mean it, you’ve done way more than—”
My foot catches the edge of the rug. It happens fast, my ankle rolling, the floor tilting, a yelp I don’t mean to make.
Then his hand finds my waist, his other arm braces across my back, and I’m not falling anymore.
I’m against him. Solid, warm, soaked through, his heartbeat thudding under the palm I’ve pressed to his chest.
Neither of us moves.
He’s looking down at me, and whatever amusement he’s worn all night is gone.
His eyes drop to my mouth and snap back up, his jaw tight, his breath coming a little uneven.
I feel it pull at me too, low and unwelcome, every traitorous cell in my body leaning toward a man I’ve spent ten years hating in theory.
His head tilts. He’s so close now that I catch rain and something warmer beneath it.
“I’m married.” I get it out fast, both hands flattening to push back. “I told you.”
He doesn’t let go right away. His gaze drifts to my bare left hand, the one fisted against his shirt.
“I don’t see a ring,” he murmurs.
“I lost it.”
“Did you.”
“I lost it.” I shove off him properly this time, finding my own feet, putting some distance between us. My face is on fire. “And just so we’re clear, I didn’t take the ride because I wanted to get you into bed. I don’t do celebrities, or athletes, or whatever it is you are now.”
That earns me a slow blink, then, infuriatingly, the corner of his mouth lifts.
“Noted.” He raises both hands, backing off a step, and there’s a rueful warmth in it that makes me want to scream. “I’m sorry if I overstepped. That wasn’t my intent.”
“Okay.” I’m already steering him toward the door. “Great. Thank you so much for everything, the ride, the groceries, all of it, you’ve been—”
A click sounds from down the dark hallway. A door. The bathroom latch, the squeak of the handle she never closes quietly.
My whole body goes cold.
I move so fast I’m almost shoving him, both palms at his damp back, propelling him over the threshold and into the hall. “Goodbye. Drive safe. Thank you, really, goodbye.”
“Jessa—”
I shut the door on whatever he was going to say and turn the deadbolt hard, then the chain, then I press my forehead to the wood with my heart slamming while the rain keeps going outside.
Small feet pad up behind me.
“Mommy?” Mia’s voice is fuzzy with sleep. “Who was that?”
I peel myself off the door and turn, pasting on a smile that costs me everything I have left. “Nobody, baby. Just a man who helped me with the car.”
She rubs one eye, hair a wild dark cloud around her face. “Did you get my cereal?”
A laugh cracks out of me, half a sob, all relief. “Yeah. I got your cereal.”
“Did it have the prize?”
“Go back to bed, Mia.” I cross the room and steer her gently toward the hall, both of us stepping over the puddle he tracked in. “I’ll check in the morning. Promise.”
She goes, finally, dragging her blanket. I stand alone in the quiet kitchen with the spilled water, the dented cans, the smell of rain he left behind, my hands trembling.
I sink onto the couch, staring blindly at the wall.
How am I supposed to stay in this town for the next couple of years when Marcus Steele also lives here? What if he runs into Mia? What—?
My fingers dig into my jeans. “No.” My whisper is hoarse. “All these years, he’s never once tried to reach out to me. He wouldn’t want her now.”
The words should give me hope, but instead they fill me with dread.
No.
We can’t stay here.
Not when Mia’s biological father is here.