Chapter 18 Nova
nova
I hadn’t slept through the entire night in . . . God knows how long. Probably not since moving to London. No, if I was honest, it was long before that. Even back when I was with Austin, every night felt like I was holding my breath, waiting for the next disaster.
Fuck.
Austin.
The name alone made me feel like a rock had settled on my chest. I needed to call him. He deserved to know the truth—that he had a daughter on the way. He didn’t deserve me, but this truth? It was his.
“Ugh,” a very British voice groaned beside me, and something hard jabbed into my thigh, pulling me out of my thoughts like a slap of cold water.
“What the—” I bolted upright, clutching the covers to my chest.
For a brief, blissful second, my brain failed to process reality, and then it hit me.
Ollie. Ollie had stayed over last night.
Wait. Ollie had stayed over last night.
I froze, darting my eyes to him as he stretched lazily, completely at ease in my bed. My very naked self was still under the covers, and I clung to them as if they could shield me from the embarrassment.
“Oh my god,” I yelped, teetering on the edge of the bed, but not daring to get up because, well, naked.
With sharp and amused eyes, he trailed his gaze over me as he propped himself up on one elbow.
He looked ridiculous—smug and perfect, his messy hair like he’d walked off some magazine cover.
And his tattoos . . . God, his tattoos. They weren’t random or trendy, like mine .
. . they were intentional, detailed patterns, like art etched into skin stretched over the kind of muscles you only saw on statues or in dreams.
“I slept the entire night,” I muttered.
“You did.” That stupidly smug grin spread like he’d personally orchestrated my sound sleep.
I blinked, trying to piece it together. “Oh wow. I feel . . . good,” I admitted, the words almost foreign on my tongue.
For a moment, I forgot about Austin, about everything. There was only Ollie, lying in my bed like he’d always belonged there.
He scanned my eyes and stood, rounding the bed until his rock-hard chest faced mine. Instinctively, I pulled the covers up higher.
“I’m going to kiss you,” he murmured.
I nodded, unable to speak, and then he pressed his lips against mine.
It wasn’t hurried or desperate. It was steady and sure, and I melted into it, my shoulders relaxing, my hands releasing the covers slightly as his warmth seeped into me. It wasn’t the kiss; it was the way it felt. Safe. Warm. Trusting.
That’s what Ollie was—trust. He wasn’t a fleeting moment or a distraction. He was steady, a constant, something immovable in my messy, chaotic life. He didn’t run when things got hard. He kept coming back, over and over, even when I rejected him. Even when I didn’t know how to let him in.
He still kept coming.
“Come on, love,” he murmured. “We’ve got to get going. We’re going to be late, and I need to get new clothes, otherwise I’ll embarrass myself.”
“New Clothes? Get going?” I furrowed my brows in confusion. “What’re you talking about?”
“You said yesterday that I hardly know you, and while you were absolutely not snoring—”
“Hey.” I playfully swatted at him. He chuckled, climbing back into bed and grabbing my hips, dragging me down beside him.
“—you were right. We should go on a date, so today I’m taking you out.”
“But . . .” I hesitated. “You don’t date.”
He shrugged and then pressed a gentle kiss to my nose. “I don’t. Dating is too complicated. You’re complicated.”
I huffed out a breath. “To say the least.”
“But I told you yesterday. You’re like an itch I can’t scratch—”
“Super romantic,” I deadpanned.
He chuckled. “I like your scratchy itch.”
“That’s it. Nailed it in the nickname department.”
“Good.” He winked. “Get up. Get dressed. We’re going to go out on a date.”
I puffed out my cheeks and blew out a breath.
On any other day, in any other way, Luna would be in here instead of the hunk of a man in front of me, pulling the covers off and begging me to take a shower before I went to work for the day. It would take ages to get out of bed.
The voices in my head would scream at me, reminding me why I shouldn’t get up.
The world felt too big, too overwhelming, especially without Mami.
Everything inside me whispered that I couldn’t trust myself.
The doctor at my previous visit had asked if I was a danger to myself or others.
I wasn’t going to harm others—unless you counted shutting people out, refusing to let anyone get close.
But the first part . . . I’d thought about it.
Was I going to harm myself? No. Not in the traditional sense of wanting to die or seeking control.
But sometimes, I wondered. What would the world look like without me in it?
Without the weight I put on everyone around me?
What if I simply disappeared? I didn’t want to die, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to live, either.
I looked down and rubbed my stomach, circling the slight swell.
No. I’d live. I’d thrive. For her. I’d build a beautiful life for my daughter, one free of the pain I carried, one that mirrored the innocence and freedom Mami had once given me.
Even without a father, I’d emulate Mami’s strength—the power of a woman who never let the world break her.
To do that, I’d have to get through today. I’d have to get through it all and keep the demons inside me from winning.
“Can you please leave then so I can get dressed?”
He looked down at us—at our naked forms—and a small chuckle rumbled from his chest. He shook his head with that grin of his. “You send me out of control, love.”
“You’re welcome,” I replied dryly, earning another laugh.
Ollie stood, and I got the full show. He didn’t bother to rush or cover himself, moving with the kind of confidence that screamed I know you’re looking, love.
And yeah, I was looking.
His tanned skin stretched over thick, corded muscles that shifted with every movement.
Ink wrapped around his biceps and sprawled across his chest, the intricate designs drawing my eyes over every sculpted line of his until I had to force myself to look away from places my brain really shouldn’t be thinking about.
He flexed, reaching down to grab his jeans, and Jesus H. Christ, if I didn’t grip the sheets like my life depended on it. His thighs were massive, and when he turned around . . .
Oh, bloody hell, as the Brits say.
I tried not to gape at his ridiculously thick cock, hanging heavy between his legs, having no business being that obscene. What the actual fuck was that? Why did I not remember how absolutely . . . wide . . . it was?
“See something you like?” His voice, smug as ever, broke through my mental spiral, and I yanked my gaze back to his face so fast I might’ve pulled a neck muscle.
“Absolutely not.” I lied, my cheeks burning.
“Sure you don’t.” He winked and pulled his shirt over his head, the fabric clinging to every unfair inch of him as if to torture me further.
The universe clearly hated me.
With his shirt in place, he turned back to me, that smug grin firmly in place as he adjusted his watch. “Try not to miss me too much, love. I’m going to run down the block for coffee and pastries. Don’t change your mind while I’m gone.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
“Any requests?”
“Something buttery?” I asked, and he nodded before shouting toward Luna’s door. “Luna, getting sustenance. Requests?”
“An extra large coffee, please,” she shouted.
There it was again. That warm feeling that spread through my chest, my heart squeezing in ways I wasn’t used to.
Ollie winked at me one last time before stepping out the door.
The second the door clicked shut, I cupped my burning face and shouted, “Luna.”
From the living room, her voice rang out. “What? Are you dying?”
Moments later, she came barging into my room, her hair a mess. “You fucked Big Cock Coach?”
“Luna Pierson,” I shrieked, my embarrassment only fueling her amusement.
She laughed, tossing herself onto my bed dramatically. “Fine, fine. You almost fucked Big Cock Coach?”
I groaned, throwing a pillow at her head. “No.”
“Well, in case you were wondering about me, I only fucked my double-ended vibrator last night. Wah.” She gave me an exaggerated pout.
I couldn’t help it—I chortled, shaking my head. “I cannot with you, Luna.”
She propped herself up on her elbows, her grin fading into concern. “Okay, what’s wrong now?”
“Nothing.” I waved her off as I stood. “He’s taking me on a date, and I need help figuring out what to wear.”
Her eyes lit up, and she clapped her hands together. “Yay. This is great news.”
I went to my closet, pulling out outfit after outfit, trying to figure out what I wanted to wear.
After what felt like forever, we finally settled on a maroon sweater, my gray overcoat, a pair of oversized black cargo pants, and my trusty black Docs.
Something comfortable, but put together.
By the time I finished getting dressed, the buzzer for our flat went off.
Rushing to the mirror, I quickly swiped on some mascara and a glossy tint for my lips. The reflection staring back at me looked . . . presentable. Decent. Human, even.
“You look beautiful,” Luna said gently, appearing behind me. She slid her arms around my waist, protectively resting her hands on my belly as she tucked her head against my shoulder. “Mami would be so proud of you,” she whispered. “He’s gentle, soft, kind.”
I swallowed hard, my voice trembling as I admitted, “I . . . I t-trust him, Luna. That terrifies me.”
A heavy silence settled between us. Luna glanced back and squeezed my arm. “I know, Nove, but I think he means well. At first, I thought maybe when he found out you were pregnant, it would scare him.”
I shook my head, the doubt creeping in again. “Who knows? He might leave when the baby comes.”
Luna shrugged, her expression soft but unwavering. “He might. But what’s the worst-case scenario?”
I looked away, biting my lip. “I’m alone.”
She gasped dramatically, shaking her head. “You’re not alone, Nova. It’s Luna and Nova forever, remember?”
“You’re right,” I murmured, my gaze dropping to the floor.
“The worst-case scenario is that it’s the two of us anyway. And honestly? That doesn’t sound so bad.”
I let out a soft laugh, nodding. “You’re right.”
Another buzz at the door broke the moment. My heart raced, but I couldn’t ignore the dark thought lingering in the back of my mind.
The worst-case scenario wasn’t being alone. It wasn’t just Luna and me. The worst case was Austin coming back and demanding custody. It was having to share my daughter with him. It was moving away from Luna . . . from Ollie.
I couldn’t. I couldn’t even let myself imagine it.