Page 9 of Only for Tonight

“I’ll get her car seat situated. You want to pack an overnight bag?” he asks, his voice going softer. It still tears straight through me.

“Yeah. It’ll just take me a second.”

He nods and heads outside into the cold, carrying both Ella—now happily sucking away at her pacifier in her carrier—and the bags of baby stuff we bought at the store. Carrying all of it like it’s nothing. Like he’s built for exactly this.

I stand alone in my quiet apartment for a moment, looking around. The dripping faucet. The sagging couch. The thermostat that won’t turn on. This is what I’ve been white-knuckling for the past two years, since my parents died and the scholarship disappeared and everything I’d been building toward crumbled. I’ve been so determined to prove I could do it alone—pay my own way, handle my own problems, never ask anyone for anything—that I forgot what it felt like to have someone just . . . show up.

The last person who showed up for me was my mother, and she’s been gone for two years.

My eyes sting, and I press the heels of my palms against them. Not now. I can fall apart later. Right now, I need to pack a bag.

Scrubbing one hand over my face, I muster the rest of the energy I have left and head into my bedroom. I shove some things into a duffel bag—a change of clothes for me, a couple of onesies for Ella, my toothbrush. In the kitchen, I toss in a couple of clean bottles and a small package of baby wipes.

I fiddle with the thermostat one last time, like maybe it’ll magically start working if I want it badly enough, then give up and head out into the cold.

I lock my front door, though I’m not sure what anyone would steal. The sagging couch? The mismatched chairs? Have at it.

When I slide into the passenger seat of Alexei’s car, the warmth wraps around me immediately. It smells like him in here—leather and spice and that clean mint undertone—and for some reason, that calms me more than it should. My shoulders drop about two inches.

“Ready?” he asks.

I turn to face him, taking in the dark scruffy hair dusted along his jaw, his broad shoulders, the firm line of his mouth. The dashboard lights cast shadows across his face, and he looks like something out of a movie. The kind of movie where the rich, handsome guy saves the girl from her terrible life and they fall in love and everything works out perfectly.

Those movies are fiction for a reason.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to do this.”

“It’s fine, Ryleigh. It’s just one night, right?”

I nod. “Do you have a roommate or a . . . a wife, or anything?”

“No roommate. Definitely no wife. It’s just me. But there are two guest rooms, so you and . . . the baby can pick where you’d like to sleep.”

I glance back and see her carrier safely buckled into the back seat. “Her name’s Ella.”

“Ella,” he repeats softly. And the way he says it—gentle, careful, like he’s trying the word on for size—makes my chest ache.

We’re quiet on the ride to Alexei’s place. It’s on the other side of the city, in an area known to be where the young, wealthy elite live. The buildings get taller and shinier, the streets get cleaner, and I sink a little lower in my seat with every block. He pulls into an underground parking garage of a towering building and has to show his credentials to a uniformed security guard working at the gate.

“Good evening, Mr. Ivan,” the man says, his gaze wandering from Alexei to me, and then to the baby before widening in surprise.

Mr. Ivan. So that’s his last name. The guard says it with the kind of deference you reserve for people who matter, and I file that away.

“Night, Frank,” Alexei says, then pulls the car ahead when the gate opens. He parks in a well-lit underground lot, and then we take the elevator up to the penthouse level.

The penthouse level.

I’m having a very Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman moment. But despite what Alexei saw earlier, I’m not a prostitute, and he certainly won’t be my knight in shining armor.

Suddenly, I’m struck by the need to correct him. “I wasn’t going to do anything with that guy, you know.”

He shrugs. “Not my business what you choose to do. I was merely trying to help you out of a situation I didn’t think you wanted to be in.”

I huff, pretty sure he doesn’t believe me. “Well, for your information, I’ve never done anything like that. So if you think you’re getting your dick sucked tonight or something, just because you bought us some diapers . . .”

Alexei holds up his hand. “Whoa. That’s not why I brought you here. And no offense, but I can get my dick sucked anytime I want.”

I have no idea what to make of that comment, like he’s got a bevy of women at his beck and call. Before I can formulate a response, the elevator doors slide open, and for a second, I just stand there.