I finish my workout and towel off, and then I head into the kitchen, and I spot Ainsley on the floor with Jack, who’s lying on his stomach on one of the little mats I added to my cart yesterday.
“You’re up,” I say as I move to the pantry to grab my protein powder.
“The baby was crying,” she says, looking up at me. Her eyes land on my abs again for a beat before moving to my eyes. “We may consider either moving your treadmill or moving the baby’s room.”
“Oh, shit. I didn’t even think of that. Was I loud?” I grab a cup down to mix my morning shake.
“You weren’t quiet,” she chides. “But it’s fine. Best to start on a good routine anyway. I made a little schedule for him.”
She checks on him, sees he’s fine, and stands. She grabs a paper off the family room table and brings it over to me.
“I need to get over to production this afternoon so I can do my final interview and get my phoneback,” she says.
I give her a terrified look as she sets the schedule down. “Does that mean you’re leaving me with him?”
“You’re more capable than you realize.”
“I still don’t know how to change a diaper. What if he’s hungry or shits or whatever?” I scoop out the protein powder into my cup as we talk.
“If you look at the schedule, I’ll get him down for his nap, and hopefully he’ll just sleep through until I get back.” She nods at the paper in my hand I still haven’t looked at, and I set it down.
“And if he doesn’t?” I ask. I grab the milk to pour it into my cup.
“If he doesn’t, then you step up, Dex. You can do this.”
I don’t even know whatstep upmeans. I don’t know if I’m supposed to let him cry in his crib or get him out immediately or change him or feed him. I still don’t even know how to fucking hold him, and I can’t quite believe that this is my life right now.
The whiskey last night didn’t even numb me enough to forget about it for a moment.
My reality shifted in the span of the last twenty-four hours, and I haven’t come to terms with this new one yet.
I put the milk away and screw a lid onto my cup, and then I shake the shit out of it while I contemplate what to do if I need help while she’s gone for a bit this afternoon.
I realize I’m already relying far too much on her, and this is only temporary. I need to figure out a more permanent solution to this problem.
“I guess I can always call on Milton for help,” I say. “Or maybe Madden would know what to do.” I think that one over. I’m not particularly ready to tell my older brother, the one person I’ve always looked up to, about this just yet. “Or Everleigh,” I amend, naming my sister. She’s only a year younger than me, and we’ve always been close.
“Or you just handle it,” she suggests, and the way she gives me this sort of no-nonsense attitude is kind of, dare I say…sexy?
Fuck.
No.
Not sexy.
Just…demanding.
But she’s eleven years younger than me. She doesn’t get to be demanding with me.
“Don’t say a word about this to anyone. I can do whatever the fuck I feel like I need to do, and I don’t need you telling me otherwise,” I snap at her, and then I take my protein shake and walk out of the room with it to go take a shower.
CHAPTER 5: Ainsley Riggs
Completely and Totally Intimidated
Have his abs always looked like they were carved by some artist who makes art that’s not realistic? Because nobody’s body has any real business looking like that. Is he some AI-generated creature?
That’s twice in the last seven hours I’ve had the pleasure of sneaking a peek at his abdomen, and good Lord, those abs are something else.
