Chapter 23 Anna
Anna
“Shit,” Liam says, dropping the papers as if they’ve scalded him. “I’m sorry, I was—”
“Snooping?” I say, amused.
“No, I was—”
“Relax,” I say, waving a hand. “It’s right there. I can’t blame you for being curious.”
I’d snoop too, if it were me.
A swallow rolls down his throat, and he lifts a hand to palm the back of his neck. “You’re umm… You’re . . .”
“Not doing anything. I’m not trying to get pregnant.” I move to the coffee table, dropping my keys and gathering up the documents. “And before you start freaking out about what this means, let me save you the trouble.”
“You really don’t have to,” he says, his cheeks a light pink.
I sit down, flipping through the pages, scooting closer.
He’s been nothing but forthcoming with me, and if I’m going to start going after what makes me happy, it can’t hurt to be honest. And since I really want to keep sleeping with him, I figure it’s the best place to start.
I know everything about him, so fair’s fair.
“I’m divorced. I was married for eight years. I want to be a mum. I always have,” I say, letting out a long breath.
He shifts slightly beside me. “And your ex . . .”
“My ex-husband, Mason, wanted to have kids too, at the beginning. It was something we always talked about doing together.” I pause, steeling myself.
“But somewhere along the way, he changed his mind. Just decided he didn’t want that life anymore.
” I shrug. “The problem was he didn’t bother telling me about this revelation for years. ”
Liam’s jaw tightens. “Shite. I’m sorry. That’s bollocks.”
“I know. I spent years talking about our future, including babies. Years of him nodding along when he’d already mentally checked out of the whole plan.” My chest burns as I force out the next words. “Last year he finally told me he didn’t want them anymore. So yeah,” I continue. “We got a divorce.”
He nods, processing everything. “Shite, Anna. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m all right.”
His gaze drops to the brochure. “The donor brochure… Am I… Is this . . .” He waves a hand between us and my eyes pop.
“No! God, no!” I rush. “I was telling the truth when I told you I’m on the pill.”
Holy crap. Is that what he thinks I want here? To have his babies?
“Liam, this is just something I picked up on my way home one evening. Something I might consider for my future. It has nothing to do with you.”
To his credit, he doesn’t run. He nods, processing everything. Poor thing. He looks like he’s about to pass out.
“Relax,” I say, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“I’m not going to knock you out and steal your baby batter.
” I wobble the brochure. “This is just about making sure I still have options in case things don’t work out for me, whether that’s with someone or on my own.
Unfortunately, women need to take these things into account if we plan to become mothers in the future. ”
A line appears between his brows.
“You okay?” I ask. “I feel as if I might have freaked you out . . .”
He shakes his head. “Yeah,” he says, his shoulders sagging. “I’m okay.”
“You sure? Because I’m worried you’ve gone all weird . . .”
He exhales deeply. “I’m not intimidated or scared off by the baby stuff—that’s your business. I guess I’ve gone a bit weird because I like fucking you, Anna. A lot.”
Oh.
My cheeks flush at his forwardness.
He waves a hand between us. “I’m just trying to figure out what this is… and I’m guessing by the way you’re blushing, you like it too.”
“Yeah, I like it,” I say, a small grin pulling at my lips.
“Grand,” he says, bouncing his knee. “So… do you want to keep doing it?”
“I do, but—”
“Finn,” he supplies.
I nod. “Finn, yes. And everything else. We’re both figuring out how to navigate our new lives. I don’t want to add extra pressure by slapping a title on whatever it is we’re doing.”
He angles his body toward me. “I totally agree with you. I don’t think either of us are in the space for some kind of romantic relationship right now.”
“Right,” I say.
“But we obviously enjoy each other.”
“Agreed,” I confirm.
“We have sex. We have fun. If that changes for either of us, we speak up.”
The relief I feel is immediate. “Okay. So we continue doing this.”
He shrugs. “As long as it’s working for you and it’s working for me, why not? No pressure, no expectations. Just two adults enjoying each other for mutual benefit. No labels. Only fun.”
He’s right—this is fun. And I am his penis’s biggest fan.
If we both enjoy each other and feel the same way about sex, why complicate it?
I’m not ready for anything serious, and I’m not ready to trust anyone with my heart just yet.
But this? What we’re doing? This feels manageable enough.
And after that horrendous drink with Roger, I definitely can’t be arsed dipping my toe in the dating pool.
Something fuss-free and consistent might be just what I need.
What we both need.
“I like spending time with you, Anna.”
“I like spending time with you too,” I say. “Okay. Let’s do this. But we can’t while Finn’s around.”
He shakes his head. “No. This needs to be discreet.”
Excellent. We’re on the same page.
“Will you sleep with other people?” I ask, unable to hold the question in. If this is something I’m committing to, I know myself well enough to admit that I won’t be able to sleep with other people. Other people complicate things.
His eyes darken. “No. And while I’m fucking you, no one else is.”
I swallow thickly. “Got it.” His text messages from earlier pop to mind. “And that date you mentioned . . .”
He reaches forward, pushing a stray hair back from my face. “I still want that date with you, if that’s okay?”
My hand catches his, stilling it against my cheek. “I don’t know . . .”
“What if I organize something where no one will see us? I understand if that crosses boundaries, though.”
He must see the gears turning because his fingers move to dust delicately over my jaw. “I’ve meant every word I’ve said to you, Anna. I think you’re beautiful. I enjoy your company, and I want to spoil you. You deserve that.”
A smile ghosts my lips. “Okay.”
He leans in, pressing a soft kiss on them. “Okay.”
I can’t hide my smile, so I lean forward and pluck my keys off the table.
He drops a large hand to my leg, stopping me.
“Anna,” he says. I turn to him, meeting his eyes. “We’re good?”
“Yeah,” I answer softly. “We’re really good.”