32
REECE
“Um, I’m selfish. I am. I know that.”
She’s adorable. Cheeks flushed, Aurora stands in front of me, her hands clasped at her chest, as she no doubt tries to convince me to stay without saying the words.
I bite the inside of my cheek to stop from smirking.
Her gaze strays to the bookshelf behind me, anywhere but my face. “But sometimes, it’s like that, you know? When a person…” She fiddles with her fingers, and her expression becomes curious. “Who brought these books?”
“I haven’t a clue. I’m assuming whoever your husband paid to furnish the house.” I relax into the plush reading chair and stretch out my legs. “You were saying?” I bring her focus back to the painful conversation at hand.
This is not unpleasant for me at all. I’m enjoying this awkward attempt at getting her way immensely. I love it when she’s tongue-tied. Any minute now, she’ll give up talking and resort to nonverbal communication.
“They say when you…” Her attention drifts to the ceiling, as if she’s praying to God for help.
“…when you love somethingyou should set it free, and if it loves you, it’ll return.
” She gestures with her hand. “But what if the bird doesn’t know you love them, and they find someone else to love them, you know?
” Her face reddens further, and her breath quickens.
My chest vibrates with a silent chuckle. I should save her from this nervous fit she’s having, but I’m too entertained.
This might be better than her persuading, flirtatious hugs.
No, definitely not, but I suspect her rambling is because of my one mistaken rejection.
Her hair is up in a ponytail, her pulse visible, fluttering at the base of her throat. “So, sometimes, you have to be selfish or lose what you have.” She nods repeatedly to convince herself that was a good argument.
I muffle my grin with my fist. “I see. So what you’re saying is…?”
She shifts on her bare feet, toenails painted teal-blue, the color of their hockey team. “After my doctor’s appointment, are you leaving?”
Ah, there it is.
“I haven’t decided yet.” I put on a severe scowl. “Why?”
She swallows. “We could hang out.” Noticing my tough facade, she babbles again. “I don’t know what you like, but we could do something before the game. Get pizza, or…” She flattens her lips. “Axe throwing?”
My forehead furrows in surprise. “You think I like axe throwing?”
Her gaze wanders over me slowly. “Shooting?”
This time, my amused grin is unavoidable. “Are you gonna throw an axe or shoot a gun, princess?”
“I’ll watch you,” she offers with a weak tone.
“You dislike loud noises. You’d hate a shooting range.”
“I’ll wear headphones and cheer you on.”
“With pom-poms?” I joke.
Her eyes narrow. “If you want me to, Viking, I’ll wear a full cheerleading uniform. It’ll look weird since I’m pregnant, but whatever.”
I reach out and grab her hand, pulling her to me. She raises her knee onto my thigh, as if about to sit on my lap, but stops.
“Tell me, angel, what did Ethan say?”
“That I have to get up at five a.m. and attend practice with him,” she grumbles.
“And let me guess: you’d like me to save you from your punishment?”
She ignores my question, her fingers playing with mine. “Oh! We could visit the Ripped Bodice bookstore in West Hollywood.”
“You want me to take you to the bookstore?”
“No… Well, yes, but only if youwant to. We could do something else if you prefer.”
“Pizza and smutty books sound perfect.”
“You don’t have to. We can do anything you want.”
“ Anything I want?” I tug her hand until she falls into my lap.
Her ass lands on my thighs, her hands on my chest, and that white-hot sensation races through my veins. My cock thickens; obviously, I didn’t think this through.
A soft gasp slips from her lips, and her pupils dilate.
“You’re terrible at this,” I say, a little too breathless.
She releases a shaky sigh. “I’ve been trying to tell you that.”
“I must admit, it was cute—pretty painful to watch but cute.”
She rests her head on my shoulder. “Yeah, well, I’m woozy. You need to take care of me.”
I laugh so hard, tears prickle the corners of my eyes. “You should’ve tried that first.”
She punches me in the side. “I hate you.”
My arms come around her. “No, you don’t. From all that babbling, I think you might like me.”
“I’ll kill you if you tell anyone.”
This dizzying, weightless feeling in my rib cage is irrational. “Your secret is safe with me.”
Silence hangs between us. I could sit here for days without moving or speaking, just holding her.
Except for one swelling problem.
Her fingers glide into my hair, nails scratching my scalp, not at all fucking helping. Soon enough, I’ll have to imagine corpses to stop from dry-humping her.
She wiggles on my lap and smiles against my throat.
“Aurora.” I tug her ponytail. “No teasing.”
She snickers. “You deserve some torture for making me sweat through that speech.”
“Is there even a shooting range in LA?”
“I have no idea,” she breathes. “I was having a seizure.”
God, I love her.