Page 43 of Before This Ends (Before)

Watching him watch me, I wonder if the risk of this situation is worth the possible reward. I’m not sure. I’m also still not sure that he’s telling the truth about not looking for a mom, or at least a mother figure, for Winter. He might not even realize that may be why he’s pushing for this. Sure, he’s done the whole parenting thing for years on his own, but he could be tired of going it alone.

Or maybe he just likes me, and I’d be an idiot for not seeing where this goes.

“Okay,” I say after a few seconds, and his body seems to relax. “But just dinner, and then we’ll talk and see how we both feel after that.”

“Just dinner,” he agrees, squeezing my knee, his eyes dropping to my mouth for a brief second, and that prickle along my scalp comes back to life, causing my nipples to pebble under his stare. “Now, finish your wine, and we’ll go upstairs. Winter will be pissed if she doesn’t get to see you.”

I don’t sip the rest of my wine; I gulp it down in a single mouthful, then wipe my mouth with the back of my hand with him watching. There is no reason to pretend I’m not ready to run away and get out from under the intensity of his stare, or the air swirling around us that seems to be charged after that conversation. I need time to think, and I won’t be able to do that with him sitting right in front of me.

Chuckling, he shoots back the rest of his drink, then stands and looks down at me, holding out his hand. I place my hand in his and let him help me up, following him to the kitchen, where we leave our glasses on the island. When we step out the door a minute later to go to the elevator, his hand wraps around mine once again, engulfing it in warmth.

I can’t remember the last time someone held my hand, and I honestly feel a little like I’m back in middle school, over analyzing the simple contact. Memorizing the texture of his skin against mine, the tightness of his hold, the way it feels right, like we’ve done it before. When we get in the elevator, he glances down at me with an odd look in his eyes.

“What?”

“Be prepared to answer a million questions.”

My stomach bottoms out. I should have thought about the fact that we’re going upstairs, where his brothers, my best friends, and the kids are hanging out. Without a doubt, Miranda and more than likely Willow are going to have questions, especially since Clay and Tucker were both at the bar with Miles when he came to get me. “It will be fine.”

“What did you tell them?”

“Nothing.”

“So you just said I’m going to pick up Emma, who is in the middle of a date? You didn’t give them a reason why you were doing that?”

“I didn’t need to say anything.” He probably didn’t. I’m sure they all made some assumptions.

“Great.” I let out a breath as the doors open, and a moment later, we enter Clay and Willow’s apartment. No one is in the living room or kitchen, but you can hear voices coming from the playroom, where everyone typically congregates when we’re here.

The moment we enter the large room, all eyes come to us, then drop to our hands still linked together. I’m torn between shaking off Miles’s grip and holding onto him tighter.

“I’m guessing your talk went okay?” Willow is the first to speak, and I bite my bottom lip, then narrow my eyes on Clay and Tucker, who both make an almost-identical deep grunting sound, like they’re trying not to laugh.

“Emma!” Winter shouts, and Miles releases my hand, only to wrap his arm around my waist as she slams into my side, knocking me into him.

“Hey.” I smooth her bangs back out of her eyes when she tips her head to look up at me. “How was school?”

“I wish you picked me up.”

“Me too,” I say softly, then smile at Kingston when he crashes into my front and wraps his arms around Winter and me. “What are you guys up to?”

“Playing. Do you want to play tag with us?” Kingston asks, bouncing on his tippy toes.

“Absolutely, but can you give me a little time to catch up with everyone? Then I’ll come and join you.”

“Yes!” the two of them say at once, then just as quickly as they appeared, they’re off running out of sight, with Skye right behind them.

“Well,” Willow says, sliding off the stool she’s sitting on. “I’m going to go open a bottle of wine.”

“I’ll help,” Miranda says, stepping away from Tucker.

“I think....” I start to say I think I’ll stay, but the pointed look my best friend gives me as she walks in my direction has me changing my mind. “I’ll help too.” I sigh.

After a squeeze of my waist from Miles, I follow Miranda and Willow to the kitchen and pull out a stool. The heels I’m wearing are more decoration than they are practical, and I have a feeling we’re going to be here a while.

“You have some explaining to do,” Miranda says as Willow opens the door of the glass-fronted wine fridge and pulls out a bottle of rosé.

“I still have no idea what is happening, so maybeyoucan fillmein,” I mumble, and Willow laughs while Miranda gives me a doubtful look.

---