As I shove my sleep shorts down, I tell myself that this is all I need. That I’ll turn it up to full power and it’ll give me the knee-weakening release that I crave.
But minutes later, when my orgasm crests, I already know it’s not going to hit the mark.
Nothing is.
A sob erupts as I throw my toy to the other side of the bed in frustration.
As if he knows, my cell buzzes beneath my outstretched arm.
I reach for it and hold it above me.
Baby Daddy: When are you next free?
Bea: Depends…
Baby Daddy: I want to take you out.
My pulse picks back up again.
Bea: Like…on a date?
Baby Daddy: Yeah, I guess.
I bite down on my bottom lip as I second-guess myself, but in the end, there is only one reply.
Bea: I’m free on Sunday.
35
BEATRICE
“Stop worrying,” Sienna says as I run my hands over my sides and look down at myself for the millionth time in the last fifteen minutes.
The moment I told her that I may or may not be having a date with Everett this evening, she immediately dove into her wardrobe to see if she had something for me to wear. I wasn’t optimistic, considering she’s a size smaller than me on a good day, but that didn’t stop her from turning up at my place loaded with bags and options. And much to my surprise, a number of the dresses were actually wearable.
We shortlisted a handful before she declared that it had to be this one.
While I like it—love it, actually—that doesn’t mean I’m entirely comfortable. It’s a maxi dress that covers me well enough, and unlike my dress the other night, it contains the girls. But it’s fitted over my belly, and…I feel pregnant. I know it’s ridiculous. It’s nothing more than bloating, but still, I feel huge. I tried on a different one, which wasn’t so fitted, and that felt like I was wearing a sack. I guess the moral of the story is that when you’re at the stage of pregnancy of just being a bit podgy, nothing looks or feels good.
“You look hot. He’s going to love it.”
“I’m not sure I want him to love it. Wouldn’t it be easier if I turned him off?”
Sienna smiles at me. “If you’re going to do this fake relationship thing with him and want the press to believe it, then it needs to look authentic. He needs to find you hot, or it’ll all fall apart.”
I know she’s right. But it doesn’t stop my stomach from twisting into knots.
“You look like you’re about to vomit,” Sienna points out.
“I might,” I confess before sitting on the edge of my couch. Everett is due to pick me up in less than fifteen minutes. I need to head downstairs to ensure he’s not early and tries to get up here.
“You’ve got this. You’re going to give him the best date of his life.”
“I’m not sleeping with him,” I blurt.
“I never said you were.”
I blow out a shaky breath. “I wish I knew what we were doing.”
