Page 11 of Say We've Found Forever
“I’ll be good. I’ll stay out of the way.”
“It isn’t you that I’m worried about, sweetheart. Soon. You can help soon, but for now, I need you to stay here where it’s safe.”
She tells her that she needs to speak to Wyatt, but she’ll be back soon, and not to come looking. Then Addison leaves her child behind and detours into the bathroom. Washes her face and pushes her breasts up. Sniffs her armpits and takes a washcloth to them just in case.
She can do this. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it won’t be the last. Sex is only a means to an end. A practical solution. An orgasm or two might ease some of the tension in this house.
Her knuckles tap on the wood, and her stomach flips when he opens it.
“What’s up? Did something happen?” He tilts his head with a slight scowl.
“No. Everything’s fine. Can I come in?”
He stares at her a beat before stepping out of the way.
The door clicks shut behind her, and she’s never felt so trapped, but she’s done this to herself. He didn’t ask her to come here. He stands across from her with his arms folded. Waiting.
“I appreciate everything you’ve done for us,” she begins.
“You don’t have to keep saying that.”
“I’d like to pay you back.”
He squints as if she’s not making sense.
She steps forward, and he steps back as if they’re doing a poor imitation of the tango. His attention flits to the cleavage she shoved up before coming here, and he averts his eyes like she burned his retinas.
It’s not the reaction she expected. Clearly, Vincent was wrong to worry about her cheating when she’s such a mess that she can’t even throw herself at someone.
“The toothpaste in the bathroom is still good.” She’s trying to make it clear she got rid of any lingering vomit scent without actually saying it. “Minty.”
“I don’t think that expires,” he replies, watching her like she’s speaking another language.
She takes another step forward, and the backs of his knees hit the bed, prompting his ass to meet the mattress.
“It’s the size of a grape,” she blurts out. “An almond, maybe.”
“What is?”
“The baby. Small, barely there.”
He scratches the back of his neck. “You came here to tell me your baby is grape-sized?”
She can’t tell if he’s being willfully oblivious, but all she can do is double down. “So you know you won’t have to worry about it. It’ll be like it’s not there.”
“Why would I wanna pretend it’s not there? Are you sure you’re okay?”
She’s getting frustrated, assuming he’s bullshitting her to see how far she’ll go. “If you want to….” She makes a vague gesture to his crotch. “You won’t have to worry about the baby because it’s only a small almond. That’s what I’m saying.”
His eyes blow wide with more panic than she’s ever seen, and that’s saying something considering she spent the last few months watching the world end. He’s up off the bed and backing into the wall a second later. Tension hangs thick, catching them in a moment that’ll determine how everything else goes like flies in a spider web.
His eyes flicker down to the tops of her breasts again, in a move that might be against his own will if the guilt that crosses his face a moment later is any indication. Her gut flips at knowing she was right. He does expect something from her.
He does want to shove her onto this bed and take payment for all that kindness she knew was too good to be true.
“It’s cold in here. Are you cold, too?” An old throw blanket is tossed at her from a distance, nearly smacking her in the face as she tries to make sense of what’s happening.
Addison coughs from the dust cloud it kicks up.
