12. Ross
ROSS
I shoot a look at Millie out of the corner of my eye, as she rests her elbow in the window and stares out into the street. She has hardly said a word to me since I picked her up—but, given the situation I walked in on just a few days ago, I can’t say I entirely blame her.
I know that I should have kept my nose out of it.
Whatever happened between her and James, it’s none of my business, if I’m being honest with myself.
But there is a part of me, a part of me that I can’t just ignore, that has been seething with jealousy ever since I saw her give herself to him—and wondering just what the chances are that she might be willing to pick up where she left off with me too.
It has been a few days since she moved into the apartment, and I’ve been keeping my distance, giving her a wide berth in the interest of getting her settled in.
Or at least, that’s what I’ve been telling Cole.
I still haven’t met Lewis yet, and I haven’t exchanged so much as a word with Millie since I turned around and walked out of the room when I caught her and James fooling around.
James has tried to talk to me about it, but I brushed him off, told him that it was none of my business and that we should just forget that I knew about it at all.
But it has been on my mind ever since. And when Cole mentioned that Millie had an appointment at the clinic today, I insisted that I be the one to take her there.
I want to clear the air. I’m going to need to be able to speak openly and honestly with her if she’s going to have my child, after all, and if we’re going to figure out the best situation for Lewis.
We’re all adults, and she can have all the desire she wants; it doesn’t impact her ability to be a good mother…
“So, how are you finding the new apartment?” I ask, breaking the silence as we come to a stoplight.
“It’s really nice,” she replies, her face brightening at once. “I—I’m not used to having all that space. You know, I didn’t even have a double bed at my old place. I keep forgetting and spending all night sleeping in a single corner…”
I laugh, and do my best not to think about her alone in that huge bed all by herself. I know it’s none of my business what she gets up to in there or doesn’t, but I can’t help but wish I would have been there with her, keeping her company on those long nights that she spent alone.
“Well, glad to hear it’s an improvement,” I reply. “And what about Lewis? How is he getting on?”
“He’s…doing about as well as I expected,” she replies, and there seems to be an edge of diplomacy in her voice, like she might be softening the truth for me.
I frown, glancing at her. “What does that mean?”
“What do you mean?”
“It sounds like there’s something wrong.”
“Oh, no, it’s nothing like that,” she replies, waving a hand. “He’s just…he has some long-term health stuff that gets worsened by stress, and this has been a stressful time for him, the move and everything.”
“Health stuff? Like what?”
“Crohn’s disease,” she explains with a slight sigh.
My heart sinks. Shit—I’ve encountered a few cases of the illness over the years at work, and it’s not something anyone, let alone a kid like him, should have to deal with.
“Fuck, I had no idea,” I mutter. “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
“Maybe you could help me out in future if I need any medical advice,” she replies. “But he’ll be okay. He just needs time to get used to new places, that’s all.”
“Well, if that ever changes—”
“You’ll be the first to know,” she assures me with a smile. “You have my word.”
We pull up outside the clinic, and I check my watch. “Half an hour till your appointment. You want to get a coffee or something, have it in my office?”
She hesitates. It’s clear she’s not entirely sold on the idea of being alone with me, perhaps all too aware of what I saw the other day when she was with James. But then, seemingly willing to brush it aside, she shrugs.
“You know what, that sounds great,” she agrees. “I only get a coffee a day now that I’m pregnant, might as well make it a good one, huh?”
We make our way over to the coffee shop on the other side of the street, and I get our drinks for us; a black coffee for me, a caramel soy latte for her
“You didn’t want to go for something more interesting?” she teases me as we cross the road once more and head inside the clinic.
“This is plenty interesting for me,” I reply. I take a sip of the coffee, the bitter flavor spreading over my tongue. “I don’t need all that extra stuff. I actually like the taste of coffee.”
“Well, I do need it all,” she replies playfully, tossing her hair over one shoulder as though it should have been obvious. “And it’s way better with all of that, anyway.”
“I’ll let you keep believing that.”
I push open the door to my office and let her go in ahead of me, trying not to let my gaze linger on the curve of her ass beneath her skirt.
I just can’t see her like that, it’s too dangerous.
No matter what happened between her and James, I can’t assume that she’s interested in Cole and me.
A lot has changed over the six years since we last saw each other, and it’s not right to just guess at the interest she might or might not have in the rest of us.
She slumps down into her seat, lifting her coffee to her lips and taking a long sip.
“Mm, that’s so good.” She sighs. “So, how long till my appointment did you say it was?”
I tap onto my computer, and let out a sigh when I see the time. “Looks like they’ve pushed it back another half hour,” I reply apologetically. “Looks like you’re stuck with me for a while longer.”
“I’ll just have to make do,” she replies, and she flashes me a grin over the top of her cup.
It feels like some of the tension between us is finally starting to ease, and I force myself to try and relax slightly. This woman is going to be the mother of my children; the least I can do is try to get along with her, no matter what else might be going through my mind.
She traces her finger around the side of her cup for a moment, and then, finally, she speaks once more.
“The apartment really is amazing,” she tells me.
“And I can’t thank you guys enough for getting me set up with it.
I never thought I would be able to have a place like this one, but it’s perfect. It really is.”
“Glad we could help,” I reply, and I mean it. I’m just pleased that we’re able to do what we can to make life a little easier for her.
“I mean, having an extra bedroom is already enough,” she adds.
“But that kitchen? I could hardly open my arms out in the last one, I was constantly tripping over things and burning myself, but this…” She shakes her head.
“I think it might actually give me the reason to learn to cook that I’ve been looking for all these years,” she says, smiling.
I chuckle. “I could teach you, if you like,” I offer. “I’m not bad myself.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Wouldn’t have thought you’d have time to learn to cook,” she says, gesturing around. “I mean, what with getting this place off the ground and everything. And you could probably afford a private chef, if you wanted someone to keep on top of that stuff for you.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I agree. “But when we were first getting started, cooking was my way to unwind. Spend an evening cooking a good meal for myself after I had worked all day, that was the idea.”
“I love that,” she says, tipping her head to the side.
“You know, I might take you up on those lessons. I need to learn some recipes that I can make for Lewis that won’t cause a flare.
I know I should be cooking at home more—it’s way easier to tell what goes into food when you’re making it yourself, but I didn’t want to try a new recipe and spend all that money on ingredients if he wasn’t even going to be able to enjoy it, you know… ?”
She stops herself in her tracks.
“Sorry,” she murmurs. “I know you don’t want to hear about all of his stuff—”
“No, it’s fine,” I assure her.
I know that I’ve just been sitting there in silence, listening to her, but it’s because I want to know how things really are for her and Lewis.
Even though I haven’t met the kid yet, I still feel an intense attachment to him, and I’m glad to hear that she seems to take his condition so seriously.
It can’t be easy for someone like her, someone all alone in their care for their child, to take responsibility like that.
No matter whether it’s her fault or not, I can imagine that she puts herself under a hell of a lot of pressure, no matter how much I might wish that she wouldn’t.
“I’m just glad, that’s all,” she replies. “Glad to have a chance to give him the kind of life I always imagined for him.”
“Well, I’m glad too,” I reply, and I lean forward slightly, something in me drawn to her with an almost magnetic force. “It sounds like you…like you haven’t had an easy time with this.”
“You can say that again,” she replies, with a slight snort that tells me that’s one hell of an understatement. “Shit, before the three of you came along, I thought I wasn’t ever going to be able to get my feet under me. I was down to my last few hundred dollars, and…” She trails off once more.
“God, I just can’t believe how much has changed,” she admits after a wistful pause.
“And I know none of it would have happened if the three of you hadn’t come looking for me again.
I’m not one to believe in fate, really, but I guess…
I guess if I did, I would say something like this falls under that banner, huh? ”
“I guess you could.”
“You not really a believer in all of that stuff either?” she asks curiously. “You don’t have to answer, if you don’t want. I’m just curious.”
“I wasn’t,” I reply, and she raises an eyebrow, obviously intrigued.
“But you are now?”
“I think I’m starting to get there.”
As I look up at her, I know she can tell precisely what’s going through my head, even if I haven’t gone and said it out loud yet.
She’s right—with everything that has happened, it’s hard to believe that fate hasn’t had some kind of hand in this, the enormity of everything that has changed in our lives, the way everything has been revealed these last few weeks.
Discovering that I have a child—or at least, that I might have a child—at the same time that I had decided I was going to become a father…
the timing was too perfect for me to see it any other way.
We could have gone with any number of surrogates through our system, but we decided on her, and I can see now that there’s good reason for it.
“That’s really sweet,” she murmurs, and she takes another sip of her coffee, her lips lingering on the rim of the cup for just a moment longer than they need to. “Whatever it is, I’m glad it happened. Glad that I got to see the three of you again.”
“Me too.”
Just a second, I consider broaching the subject that has been bothering me all week—seeing her with James. I push it down, but she seems to read my mind, sensing there’s more there than I might be ready to say out loud.
“You know, we still haven’t talked about it,” she remarks.
I lift my chin, paying dumb. “Talked about what?”
She raises her eyebrows at me slightly, incredulous. “About you seeing James and me together the other day.”
I shift in my seat. I can’t play it off. All three of us looked at each other in that bedroom, not like I could have pretend to be anyone else, but it’s the last thing I want to have to say out loud right now.
“It’s not a big deal,” I reply dismissively. “If the two of you have something going on, then—”
“We don’t,” she replies. “I mean—not that we weren’t doing anything that day, but we haven’t been involved outside of that. It was just a one-off spontaneous thing. I don’t think either of us expected it to happen…”
I can’t help but grin. “You really don’t know James well at all, do you?”
“What do you mean?” She laughs.
“I guarantee that was the only thing on his mind when he got you into that bedroom,” I point out. “Whether he wanted you to know it or not…”
“He was only there because I asked him to be,” she protests, giggling. “He was helping me unpack some boxes, and there were a couple that I had to move into the bedroom before I could start…”
“Hmm, sure,” I shoot back, cocking an eyebrow.
“You really think he came to the apartment with me because he was hoping to…?”
“I don’t know exactly what it is James planned,” I reply. “But I know that I—”
I stop myself in my tracks before I can go any further, all too aware that I’m walking right up to the edge of something dangerous, something I might not be able to take back.
Millie looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to continue. “You know that what?”
I stare at her for a moment, pulse racing in my veins.
We’re alone right now, and nobody will disturb me in my office as long as they know I have a visitor.
I could just tell her that James has always been that way with women, and I’m just guessing based on everything I know about him, but she will guess that it’s not what I was going to say.
Because what I was going to tell her was that I couldn’t be in a room with her without letting my mind drift back to that night, and I doubt James is any more capable of it than I am.
“Nothing.”
“Oh, come on,” she chides, kicking me lightly on the shin. “Tell me. I don’t want to play games. We’re all adults here, right? Let’s just say whatever’s on our minds, and then—”
“I was going to say,” I cut her off, speaking before I have the opportunity to back out on it. “That James feels the same way I do.”
Her eyes narrow slightly, her hands clasped around the coffee in her lap. “And what way is that, exactly?”
I rise to my feet. I’ve always been better at showing, not telling, when it comes to stuff like this.
“This way,” I murmur. And before I can stop myself, I lean down and plant my lips against hers.