“How are you, Mads?” Grant kissed my best friend’s cheek.
“Better than you’ll be in a second,” she predicted. “Are we interrupting anything?” Maddie tugged the measuring tape and wallpaper catalog from her colorful thrift shop bag as she swaggered deeper into the apartment.
“Not at all. Jessica was just leaving.” Grant unhooked her coat from the hanger. “Dr. Shaffer was kind enough to drop off a brochure for an apartment complex in Rochester, since I didn’t make it to Minnesota to check out properties.”
This sounded completely reasonable. Professional, even. But I knew that for Jessica, it was an excuse. I saw it in her body language. In her eager smile. In the way she’d chosen to wear something the toddlers in my classroom could barely squeeze into.
She wanted him, and women like her always got what they wanted.
It was only a matter of time. Grant was excited with the idea of becoming a father, because he was inherently good, but the child wasn’t going to fill all the functions he needed in his life. He deserved intimacy and partnership: someone to spend his life with. Jessica was a perfect candidate.
“Oh, yes! Sorry, I got caught up in office gossip.” Jessica picked up her bag from the floor and winked at me good-naturedly, dangling her hips on her way toward the door. “Layla, how are you feeling? Grant told me about your little accident.”
Maddie’s head snapped to Jessica in a flash, wrath igniting in her pupils. “I wouldn’t call it an accident. An accident is when a surgeon over-slopes your nose bridge during a rhinoscopy.” Her eyes scanned Jessica’s obvious nose job, her voice honeyed. “This is more of a ...happy surprise.”
“I’m feeling okay, thank you,” I said curtly. “And yourself?”
“Fabulous.” Jessica ignored Maddie’s quip. “I am so excited for both of you. Grant always wanted to be a dad. Don’t worry, I plan to be there for you two every step of the way.”
“I don’t doubt it.” I flashed her a sugary smile. I had a feeling the real event Jessica wanted to partake in had already taken place—and it was the conception.
The four of us stood there for a long moment, basking in the awkwardness of it all.
“All righty then! I’ll be out of your hair now. Thanks so,somuch for the coffee offer, Grant.” She stopped next to him to kiss his cheek. “Rain check tomorrow, huh?” She winked before slinking back into the dusky evening.
Subtle as a tank, this one. But the message was clear:Hands off my man.
If only she knew I’d also used my mouth, tongue, and other parts on him at one point.
Maddie’s eyes ping-ponged between Grant and me.
“I’m going to go ahead and take those measurements in the room you assigned for the baby.” She jerked her thumb toward the foyer. “I’ll be back in about twenty minutes. Layla, let me know if you need anything. Grant—good luck with surviving this.” She brushed a hand over my arm before making herself scarce.
Grant and I stared at each other. He looked completely oblivious to the fact that his colleague had just metaphorically pissed all over his leg to mark her territory.
It was all coming to a head now.
I was falling for my baby daddy. And I couldn’t stop it. Not even if he moved to Minnesota. Not even if he moved toMars. The feelings were here to stay.
In his defense, I did work really hard at never showing him a hint of jealousy.
Jealousy was a weakness, so I tried very hard not to feel it. And when I did—I made sure to hide it.
“You all packed up?” He brushed his shoulder past mine and swanned to the kitchen, where he cracked open the fridge and took out two alcohol-free beers. Because if I was going to suffer, he sure as hell would too. “I was thinking of renting a U-Haul an—”
“I can’t move in with you,” I blurted out.
He froze, the beers still in his hands. “Is this about the decomposition odor from the communal trash? Because I already told you the hedge fund guy upstairs got arrested.”
“No.” I shook my head. It was time to come clean. “It is about my self-preservation.”
“Okay.” He kicked the door to the fridge closed before turning to glare at me. “I’m eager to hear how moving into a remodeled twenty-eight-hundred-square-foot Central Park South apartment and paying zero rent will ruin your life.”
“I need to have a stress-free pregnancy.” I leaned a shoulder against the wall, hugging myself. “If I get too emotional, too distraught, it could be really bad for the baby, and I have to put it first.”
“What exactly is stressful about living with me?” He cocked his head sideways. “I’m barely home, and when I am, I’m either on the rowing machine, cooking, or trying to give you an orgasm. And I’m happy to lay down some rules if you don’t want me to hit on you. We don’t have to be sexual. I think I proved I can keep my hands to myself.”
“I don’t want to interrupt whatever you have going on with Jessica.”
