“One sec, 'kay?” he says and then he turns and swings around the newel post, heading up the stairs as I look down at Dodger and use my foot to stop him from lifting his leg on the edge of the baby's crib. The stupid little rat can't seem to stop marking his territory, even though none of this stuff really belongs to him. He wants it to be his, but he doesn't want to have to take any responsibility for it.
Zayden's the same way, I think. That's what all his posturing in front of Dan was about, why he said he was laying his claim on me. He wants to piss on me and mark me as his, but he doesn't want the responsibility that comes along with it.
Zay might be good with his nieces and nephews, with mine, but he's exactly what I thought he'd be: the perfect one-night stand.
Oh well. If he thinks that's news to me, he's wrong. I didn't sleep with a stranger expecting to be romanced.
Zayden Roth can watch my kids for me for free, save me some money, give me some time.
And you know what? I'll let him touch me because I want it, not because he does. I'll use him exactly the way he's using me, and then I'll be done.
It'll be a nice ending for both of us when he goes back to Las Vegas.
I am like, so screwing up this Brooke thing.
I know it; she knows it.
What the hell are you doing, Zay? I wonder as I corral the little brown and tan dogs in the upstairs bathroom and close the door. Ugh. What did I just say to that chick? It means something, but it doesn't change anything. Like I was one of the other assholes from the shop, protesting too much about how this thing between us is actually not a thing at all.
Why am I so determined to tell Brooke off—at the same time I want to get her off?
I muss up my hair with my fingers and lean my head back. I'm definitely losing it. Maybe it's the climate? It's so goddamn moist up here that I feel like I'm sucking in saltwater with every inhale. I miss the desert and the dry warmth and the bright lights of the Strip.
I pull my phone from my pocket and check for messages from my friends. The owner of the shop I work at—a placed called Needle in My Eye Body Piercing—texted me a picture of some girl's clitoral hood piercing. I stare at it and then scroll down.
The ladies miss u dude. Come back soon!
I smile and pocket the phone, shoving away all of that weirdness from downstairs. I shake it off and take a deep breath, pausing to fix my hair in Brooke's bathroom before I go back down and find her sitting with Sadie on the couch.
Mmm.
Yikes.
I pause there with my hand on the newel post and fight back the urge to put the baby to bed and drag Brooke upstairs, screw her bareback into the mattress. Wouldn't it be cute to see her pregnant? To have a baby to play with the way I play with Sadie? One that was actually mine?
Um.
No, it wouldn't.
Whoa, Zay. Put the brakes on there. I'm twenty-nine years old, so I guess it's right about that time where I'd start thinking of making babies, but hell, what am I doing? I don't know Brooke. And I don't live here. And she already comes with two inherited kids of her own. Besides, she's twenty-two and trying to get her master's degree. If I'm going to fixate on someone like this, I should find somebody closer to my own age.
Deep breath.
I move into the room and pause, sitting down on the arm of the big couch.
“Want to go somewhere? We can pick up the kids while we're out?” Because if I don't get the fuck out of here, I'm going to throw you over the back of this couch and screw the hell out of you. I smile, so Brooke can't see what I'm thinking about. “We could … go get some coffee at that place on the water, what's it called?”
“Um, the Waterfront?” Brooke says with a little sarcastic lilt. I grin at her and snap my fingers.
“Exactly. We can even get some fish and chips or something.” I grab my wallet from its place on the coffee table and flash the black leather at Brooke. “I'm whippin' out the credit card. My treat, okay?”
“What about the casserole?” she asks and I shrug.
“Fuck the casserole.” I bounce off the couch and into the kitchen, opening the oven and using a mitt to pull the glass out. Surprisingly, the damn thing actually smells good. “I'll hide it from Hubert and we can finish cooking it later.”
The glass is barely warm, so I cover it with foil and shove it in the fridge. I feel like I need to get out of here for a second, try to find some space to breathe.
“You game?” I ask as I come back around the corner and cross my arms over my chest. When Brooke looks up at me, I wiggle my brows and toss her a wink that I don't really feel. Fuck. I am so not myself right now. Want to know why I tattooed the words LIVE EASY onto my knuckles? Because that's how I like to do my thing, nice and easy and uncomplicated. Life's just more fun that way, you know?
All of this? This is complicated as hell.
“Sure. Why not. I'm not too proud to turn down free food.” Brooke hoists Sadie up in her arms and stands. When I see her lean in and kiss the baby on the pudgy cheek, I feel a little thrill shoot through me and know that I best keep the bio clock hormones on serious lockdown here.