Page 30 of Vegas Baby

I sit with that for a few minutes until both our glasses are empty. “You think I made a mistake? You think I should’ve agreed to be friends, even though I’d always be hoping for more?”

Ty grins. “Aaaand I just got you to basically admit you still love her and haven’t totally given up hope. I knew my eternally optimistic brother-from-another-mother was still in there,” he teases, clapping me on the back.

“That wasn’t an answer,” I point out.

He shrugs and flags down Shari, his favorite waitress. Equal odds to order another beer or ask her out for the thousandth time. Probably both.

“Dude, don’t listen to me. I’m about to get shot down again. Clearly, I’m not someone who knows when to quit even when he should.”

21

KIRA

I send Sebastian a text message from my new phone a week after I get home from the hospital, letting him know my number in case he changes his mind about being friends. Which I knew was selfish to even think, much less ask … but I had to.

The first few nights back were a blur, but we’ve settled into something of a routine already. And given the demands I usually face in a day, while I am loving the time with my daughter, my mind has too much time to wander.

It’s strange thinking that this life was only possible because of Sebastian, and now he isn’t even part of it. That was necessary for me to find my own footing, but now … well, I wasn’t lying. I missed him. I do miss him. Even more … becoming a mother and experiencing pure, true love for my daughter has made me realize that I was close to feeling that for Sebastian. That I would’ve felt that for him if things had continued. That he’s one of the only men I’ve met that I could trust with that kind of love.

That knowledge made it even harder to let him walk away, out of my life again. But he’s not in my life because of my choices. And if he chooses to stay out, I’ll have to live with that too. Which I fully expect him to.

That makes it even more surprising when he texts me back the next day.

I wish I could say I hadn’t changed my mind.

My heart skips a beat in my chest. Does that mean what I think it means? I hesitate only a moment before replying.

So … friends?

It’s a good half hour before he responds back.

Maybe. But mostly … I think I might regret it if I say no.

A grin breaks over my face. A few text messages back and forth later and we have plans for him to drop by Monday on his day off.

* * *

Three days later feels like weeks in baby world. Endless circles of feedings, changings, short bursts of sleep, and playing with Nadia have left me with no sense of time. Especially as Michael is at the theater rehearsing with Coralie most of the day nearly every day, not to speak of the multiple shows each week. So, I’ve pretty much gone it alone. In some senses, I prefer it that way. But knowing I’d see Sebastian again has woken feelings in me that have slumbered since we were together all those months ago. And I’m certain even when I suggested it, I didn’t really want to be just his friend. But I could never ask him to take me back.

Even so, I’ve dressed in something other than an oversized nightshirt for the first time since I brought Nadia home; a simple T-shirt and jeans. And normally it wouldn’t be a sexy look, but I feel sexy with my now milk-swollen breasts popping out of the top of the low vee neck that before Nadia showed absolutely nothing.

Still, when the doorbell rings, the nerves that have been making it hard to sit still all morning clench my stomach.

Opening the door makes them worse.

Sebastian greets me with a wary smile, looking more handsome than ever in fitted jeans and a T-shirt that shows off his well-developed arm muscles.

“Hello,” I say quietly.

“Hey,” he offers in return, then extends a bag toward me I hadn’t realized he was carrying. “I come bearing gifts.”

Tears prick the backs of my eyes at the thoughtfulness of the gesture, and I blink them away. Damn hormones.

“Thank you,” I say, clumsily taking the bag and stepping back. “Please, come in.”

He steps in, his wariness even more evident in his body language as his eyes swing around the apartment. And it suddenly clicks.

“Michael isn’t here,” I say as I close the door. And then add, “And Nadia is napping.” I gesture toward the bedroom door just off the kitchen behind him.

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