Dexter Bradley was always something special to look at. He’s the hottest of Ivy’s older brothers, but he’s really peaking here in his thirties. His body is out of this world, and he’s got this worldly experience in the way his dark, mysterious eyes land on a person. It’s enough to feel completely and totally intimidated.
I’m just here to help, though. I’m not here to study his abs or feel intimidated by him. It’s a job and a place to lay low when I was desperate for both of those things.
Desperate for Dex Bradley I am not.
I just got dumped on what will be on national television in a few months…or national streaming, anyway. International, probably. Hell, I don’t know how this works, but I can’t imagine it’s going to castmein a very positive light when I’m made the laughingstock because Jordan wasn’t ready for marriage.
At some point, I’ll have to face Jordan. Today, likely. Before or after my interview with producers. Definitely at the reunion show in a few months. But at least it feels like I have something to come back to now. I didn’t have that when I ran out of the chapel yesterday. I was alone.
Was that really just yesterday? It feels like forever ago.
And now that I’ve had a minute away from the cameras and producers pushing me in a certain direction, I can see I was never reallyin lovewith Jordan. I think I was in love with the idea of being in love, but considering the only tears I shed were from embarrassment as I ran from the chapel, I’m not convinced it was reallylovethat I felt for him.
I certainly wasn’t ready tomarryhim. I thought I was, but as the saying goes, hindsight is twenty-twenty.
And in hindsight, it’s pretty damn clear to see that I was desperate for a path to my happily ever after, and that’s why I took a nontraditional approach to try to get there. I had people who wanted to make good television telling me I was ready, he was ready, and we were perfect together.
But today, I can see that I still have plenty of time ahead of me. There’s no rush. I’m only twenty-two. Sure, my parents got married at twenty. My mother is a mere twenty-one years older than me. My aunts and uncles all married young, too.
But that doesn’t mean I have to take the same path. I guess I’ve just put a lot of pressure on finding the one and having kids at a young age since my parents did, and it’s possible—probable, even—that’s just not the way life was meant to be for me.
Instead of focusing on any of that, though, I can’t seem to stop myself from being a little angry with how Dex just stormed out of the room. I get that this is new and scary for him. It is for me, too, honestly. But he’s acting like a child and not givinghimself nearly enough credit. He’s stronger and more capable than he thinks he is, but he’s already decided he isn’t.
I guess somehow it’s up to me to make him see what he’s capable of.
I’m pretty sure he’s made up his mind, though. He doesn’t seem like the type of person who ever wanted kids. He’s too selfish, too into the pleasures of life rather than sacrificing for someone else. I don’t know him very well, but I know enough to know that. He already said that me being here is temporary until he can figure out a more permanent solution.
And then what?
This poor, sweet baby goes to live with strangers who don’t share his blood, and I just…go back to Chicago?
None of that sounds right, to be honest. I realize Dex is a stranger to him, but I see a lot of similarities between them. They both have brown eyes, dark hair, and are prone to throwing tantrums. They both rely on everyone around them to clean up their messes—which makes sense for a six-month-old. Not so much for a grown-ass man.
And maybe that’s thewhyin all this—why I agreed to be on a reality television show when it’s fully not at all who I am. Why I agreed to come to Vegas for this. Why Jordan said no. Why I ran.
Maybe fate was at work all along, and I was always meant to plow right into Dex’s chest at the exact moment when he needed me.
Fine, it’s a little far-fetched. Fate doesn’t work like that in real life. But a girl can daydream…especially about those abs.
I get Jack down for his after-lunch nap, and Dex is standing by the windows in the family room when I walk out. I take just the briefest moment to look out over that view with him.
It’s gorgeous. I can see all the hotels along Las Vegas Boulevard, and for a girl from Chicago who never left the eighteen-hundred-square-foot modest home she shared withfour siblings and two parents, staying in a place like this, even short-term, is pretty damn exciting.
I sigh. “Jack is down, and I need to get going.”
He glances at me. “Milton said he’d set up a ride for you.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he holds up a hand and turns back toward the window.
“Please, it’s the least I can do for what you’ve already done for me. I’m sorry I walked out earlier. This is just all…a lot.” He doesn’t turn to look at me as he says the words.
“I know it is, Dex. But you’ll learn.” I keep my eyes out on the view, too. I feel him turn to study my profile, and I refuse to be intimidated by it. “You got this. You can do hard things.”
“What if I don’t want to? What if there are other answers out there? What if this was never meant for me?” He’s quiet as he says the words, and frankly, I’m shocked he’s being so vulnerable with me. He sounds like he’s truly at a crossroads and not sure what to do.
I’m careful to keep my eyes out on the view rather than giving away what I’m really thinking—just as I’m careful with the words in my reply. “Only you know how to answer those questions. Now that you know about him, are you going to step up and take responsibility? And if not, what’s the other option? Could you give him up just like that and never think of him again? If you truly could do that, then you already know the answer.”
He’s quiet a few beats, and then he whispers, “What if I can’t do this?”
