I scoff, unsure of what to do with my hands as I fiddle with a pair of socks. “We did not fuck.”
“Sure,” she volleys sarcastically.
“We didn’t. He just went down on me.” I mumble the last part without making eye contact.
“I’m sorry, come again? Or is that what you said to him?”
She’s never going to drop this. God help anyone who goes against her in a court of law.
“He. Went. Down. On. Me.” I throw my hands in the air. “Happy?”
“Oh, very. Not as happy as you, though, I bet. How did this transpire?”
Begrudgingly, I give her the Cliff Notes version. By the end, her jaw is on the floor, and she’s bouncing up and down on her knees. I give it an hour before she voice memos the group chat.
“He actually left without wanting anything in return?”
I jerk my head. “For the tenth time, yes.”
“Wow. I wasn’t his number one fan at first, but Daddy Warren has painted himself in a new light. Pleasing horny women one small town at a time.”
A frown cuts across my face. I hope that’s not the case. Not that I’m jealous. He’s single. A free agent. “Do you think he’s seeing someone?”
Talia recoils. “Um, how did you jump to that conclusion? I was kidding.”
I’m not convinced. “It would make sense. It’s not like we’re dating. A man has needs. Apart from his ex-wife and Peter, we’ve never really spoken about our dating history.” Dragging myself off the floor, I move to the sofa, and Talia joins me. “If he wants to date, I’m totally okay with it.”
“Yeah,totally.”
I frown at her mocking tone.
“Harry, be so real right now.” She flings a mitten at my face. “I can’t see him having eyes for anyone else. The way he looks at you is downright territorial.”
“As if.” Does he?
“Ask any of the girls. I’m going to hold your hand when I say this.” She literally does. “What you have going on is great and very admirable. Not a lot of strangers would go to the lengths you two have, but if this were any other man, can you confidently say you would’ve given him a spare key to your house and let him give you the ‘orgasm of all orgasms,’ as you call it?”
Screw her eagle-eye perception. I don’t argue, though. Deep down, a tiny voice in my head says I wouldn’t. One of my flaws is handing over my trust without caution—Peter is prime example number one. With Warren, it came naturally, even from the first night. Something about him told me he’d handle it with care, and he has.
Our attraction is palpable, but do I want to risk what we’ve got going on because we have good bedroom chemistry? No.
I give Talia a flat look. “The other day was a hiccup. He knows it. I know it. You know it. The last thing I want is this to get messy and find ourselves at an impasse or worse, not able to stand the sight of one another. I want my child to grow up with two dedicated, reliable, loving parents, and being in a relationship shouldn’t dictate that.”
To her credit, she keeps whatever counterargument she has brewing under wraps.
I search for my phone between the cushions and fire off a text determined to remind myself and Warren this is a strictly platonic arrangement. We can’t avoid each other forever.
Harriet: Hey, dinner at mine tomorrow?
Harriet: And before you politely decline, I insist. The baby too.
Warren: You don’t leave me with much choice, but I’d like that.
See? Everything is fine.
THIRTY-SEVEN
WARREN
