“Because I wanted to. Feels good to stop pretending, right?”
“Yeah, I suppose it does.” Her lips pursed as she feathered her hand down my cheek. “I should warn you about a couple of things I’ve learned about pregnant me so far.”
“Okay, what’s that?” I asked, still leaning in close. One more kiss and we would be late.
“I’m weepy, which I’m not sure is due to hormones or anticipation of all the huge changes coming our way. I’ve even been crying over TikTok videos today. It’s hurting my antichrist rep.”
I burst out laughing and nodded. “All right. What else?”
She sucked in a breath and slid her hand to the back of my neck. “I seem to be very easily… aroused. And my body is oversensitive. So while I’m happy we’re admitting how attracted we are to each other, I’m not built to make good decisions right now. Especially with you in a button-down and the bulge in your pants.” Her gaze flicked to my cock, now twitching at her acknowledgment. “Can we try to be careful? Not get swept away in each other tonight?”
Fuck.
Careful with an easily aroused Olivia in a leather dress, now staring at my dick? I’d try, but I didn’t have high hopes.
“You are so fucking adorable when you’re flustered.” She rested her forehead against mine. “You can’t blame me for goading you all of our lives when you were such an easy target.” She kissed my cheek. “Let’s go before we’re late.”
Nope, no hope at all.
“How many nights do you go out a week?” I asked after we sat down at our table. The whole thing felt like a spy mission. Even though I’d come with her before to one of these dinners, I was too preoccupied with learning to get along with her to appreciate what she was there to do.
“Depends. Two or three. I try to go during the week so I don’t look too conspicuous dining alone on a Saturday night.” She smirked around her water glass.
“Why do you come alone? I’d think Morgan would be up for going with you or even Carla.”
“They offer, but I like coming alone. My dad and I would find these weird restaurants to check out sometimes and go, just the two of us. Mom is a picky eater, so she never minded that it was just us. He used to joke that maybe he could find a job being a professional restaurant customer.” She peered at me with a wistful smile. “After he died, I stumbled on an article about social media influencers and how some food and lifestyle bloggers were making a decent living just posting about what they ate and what they did. I started the page as a fluke, and it blew up after I made a couple of posts.”
“I didn’t know it happened that quickly.” I studied her, hating the gloss in her eyes whenever she brought up her dad. “You must have done something very right.”
“I’ve run enough social media accounts to know some things, but getting something to go viral is tricky. There is no real formula to it, just throwing things against the wall to see what sticks. A secretroyalblogger who went to affordable restaurants and found amazing dishes was catnip.” She shrugged. “Who knew? Not sure if I could make a living out of it or if I would even want to but it’s fun. And a good distraction sometimes.”
She reached over and squeezed my arm. “But that was backstory you probably weren’t looking for. You asked why I did this alone. If I go by myself, this is something my dad and I still do that’s just us. I know it sounds dumb, but it’s helped.”
“It doesn’t.” I peeled her hand off my arm and laced our fingers together. Of all the things we’d done, this simple gesture seemed the most intimate. “Why did you invite me with you last time?”
She dropped her head, chuckling to herself. “Dad would have liked me trying to get along with you and doing you a favor. So in a way, being with you was still remembering him. I’ve been thinking about how he’d react to this, but I’d bet he’d say he saw it coming.” She groaned, slipping her hand away from mine to drape it over her eyes. “I sound completely out of my mind right now, don’t I?”
“No, you don’t.” I took back her hand and brushed a kiss on her knuckles. “I like having history with you like that. Other than the fights and broken toys.”
“And broken beds.” Her eyes twinkled as she lifted a brow.
“This is your idea of being careful?” I sighed, wishing I’d just worn black jeans to shelter my exhausted dick. “Bringing that up?”
“Well, we can finally talk about it now, so that’s good, right? And I more warnedyouto be careful since I probably wouldn’t be, so…” She held up her hands.
I had to laugh. There was no being careful with Olivia. She was a force that had consumed me for most of my life.
Only this time, I’d stopped fighting it.
TWENTY-FOUR
OLIVIA
“So what do you think they’ll say?” Tyler asked as we turned down my block.
“Who?” I replied on a yawn. I’d taken a nap this afternoon so I wouldn’t be so wiped tonight, but it was of no use. I couldn’t fight my hormones or the aftereffects of adrenaline coursing through my veins from thinking about dinner with Tyler all damn day. I’d been so afraid that he would freak out when I told him I was pregnant, but it had a strange opposite effect. It finally got us talking, since a baby together was something impossible to ignore, even though we managed to avoid bringing up the night we’d made it happen.
Opening up to Tyler about my father was easier than trying to explain my endless grief to anyone else. Even Morgan thought it was weird I only went on my foodie dinners alone even after I’d tried to explain why. Not only did Tyler get it, but he was also the only company I wanted. Spending the past few hours with him was both exhilarating and soothing. The night that led us here would always be a favorite memory, but being together tonight simply because we wanted to—with no agenda or pretense—was a different and exciting kind of high.
