Daisy spins back around and glowers. She shakes her head forcefully. “He’s joking. I’m not his girlfriend.” She glares at me again, looking as if she wants to throttle me. “I don’t even know him.”
“Now, sweetheart,” I cajole. “Is that any way to talk to the father of your?—”
She slaps her palm over my mouth and grates, “I’m warning you, Carter! Shut up!”
I grin beneath her fingers. “What’s the problem? I’m just trying to do the right thing by my baby mama and little?—”
She claps her other hand over the first. “I swear to God, if you say one more word, I’ll kill you.”
My shoulders shake with silent laughter.
Precariously close to losing it, Daisy growls, “I hate you.”
I pry both of her hands off my face. “That’s not what you said this morning when I was giving you the big O.”
The row behind us snickers and Daisy’s face goes up in flames as she slumps in her seat, burying her face in her hands. She sniffles as if she might be crying. After a full minute of silence, regret slices through me.
Maybe I should apologize and tell everyone behind us that I was kidding around.
No harm, no foul. Right?
Tentatively, I lay a hand on Daisy’s shoulder to get her attention. As soon as I do, she whips around to face me again. Her fingers wrap around the edge of her desk until her knuckles turn bone white.
She leans closer until her breath feathers across my lips and snarls, “Sleep with one eye open, Prescott. ’Cause I’m coming for you. That’s not a threat. It’s a promise.”
I force out a chuckle, but the sound dies a quick death on my lips.
Fuck me.
8
DAISY
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Olivia asks from where she’s parked on the other side of the breakfast bar while I add eggs and oil to the brownie mix.
Is this a good idea?
Without question, it’s the best damn idea I’ve ever had!
“Yup,” I proclaim, popping the P.
Olivia hasn’t voiced her concerns, but I can tell by her nervous demeanor that she’s not a hundred percent on board with this plan. But I don’t care. My mind is made up, and I’m moving forward. If Carter thinks he’s had the last laugh, he can think again.
Olivia gnaws her lower lip. I’m afraid if she keeps this up, it’ll end up a bloody mess. I huff out a breath, well acquainted with what she’s silently trying to convey. She thinks I’m being rash.
Under normal circumstances, I love that Olivia and I balance each other out. I tend to be more of the leap-before-looking type, and she’s more the look-both-ways-before-crossing-the-street-and-then-look-one-last-time-just-to-be-safe type. And I’ll admit that she’s yanked my butt out of trouble on more than one occasion.
Perhaps that alone is reason enough to reconsider the ramificationsof what I’m doing, but I refuse to do that. As far as I’m concerned, it’s full steam ahead.
Just thinking about Carter strolling in to sociology and forcing Ben out of his seat and then telling everyone within earshot that we were not only together, but that I was hisbaby mamais enough to make steam pour out of my ears.
Then, as if that weren’t damaging enough, the jerk eludes to giving me an orgasm.
In front of all those people.
I clench my jaw and stir the mixture with violent strokes.
After a few moments, Olivia gestures to the bowl. “You, ah, don’t want to stir out all the lumps.”
