Page 52 of Under My Skin

After walking in the door with tears streaming down my face following my fight with Braden last night, I’d given Morgan the shortest possible version of what went down and then just curled up into a ball on the couch and fallen asleep with my head in her lap…and that was where I’d remained ever since. Morgan had spent the night and then called Lina first thing this morning to come help with Isaac while I wallowed in the misery of my own making.

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Could barely even breathe. My whole life was in shambles, and there was no fixing it. No going back in time and undoing the mess I’d gotten myself into.

How had I gotten here? How had I ended up lying on my couch crying my eyes out over the one man in the world Iabsolutely couldn’t have feelings for? The one man I’d sworn I would go to my grave hating with the fire of a thousand suns.

“Those smell amazing,” Morgan said from beside me. “What are they?”

“Arepas de jamón y queso.” Lina’s Colombian accent was on full display. “They’re basically cornmeal pancakes stuffed with ham and cotija cheese. It’s one of my favorite comfort foods.”

I offered her a small smile as I sat up, picked one up, and started to nibble at the edges. “Thank you. You didn’t have to cook. You’re here for Isaac, not me.”

“I’m here for both of you,” she said as she sat on my other side and rubbed my shoulder. “I might be his nanny, but I hope you consider me a friend too.”

“I do,” I assured her as I took a bigger bite.

The second the slightly sweet, salty, cheesy flavor hit my tastebuds, my stomach started to growl, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten in about eighteen hours. I devoured the arepa within two minutes and immediately grabbed another one.

“That’s my girl,” Morgan said with a soft chuckle.

We ate in silence for a little while before I sighed and turned to my best friend. She gave me a sad smile, clearly waiting for me to say something.

But what was I even supposed to say? What was I supposed todonow?

How was I supposed to reconcile the version of Braden Hicks that had existed in my mind with the man he really was? How could I fight my feelings for him now that I knew he hadn’t committed any of the infractions I’d thought he was guilty of?

Was that even possible?

Or would I spend the rest of my life grieving the loss of a relationship that had never really existed? Pining away for the one man I couldn’t have because I’d somehow caught feelings for him when I wasn’t looking?

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I sniffled. “I just…I was so scared. And I thought if you and Mal knew and talked to Braden, I’d end up getting slapped with a lawsuit or led away in handcuffs.”

“I know. I’m not mad,” Morgan assured me, rubbing my back. “I’ve only met Vicki once and…well, let’s just say I havezeroproblem believing she did any of this shit. Especially to Braden.”

“Why?” I choked out. “Why would she keep Isaac from him? Why would she threaten us like that without eventalkingto him about it?”

“I don’t know, babe,” she murmured. “But he knows now, and you have to know he’s going to take care of both of you.”

“I don’twantto be taken care of, though.” My voice cracked with evenmoretears. “I don’t want his money just because he feels guilty about Amara or obligated because Isaac shares half his DNA.”

“Oh, Dani,” she sighed. “It’s not guilt. Or obligation. Just like Mal offering to give you a little help every now and then isn’t charity. It’s love. You have people who care about you and want to make sure you know you don’t have to do this alone. And that includes Braden.”

“Yeah, because I saddled him with a kid he didn’t want,” I muttered.

“No, because he loves you.”

My eyes went wide as I snapped my head back in her direction.

That wasn’t possible. Even though Braden wasn’tthe heartless monster I’d thought he was, I knew his reputation. He didn’t do relationships. He’d probably fucked his way through half of Orlando. Hell, he’d had topaysomeone to pretend to be in a relationship with him because he’d been that against finding someone for real.

There was no way he had any kind of feelings for me. At least not the kind I had for him.

And even if he did, it didn’t matter. Amara had died wanting him to burn in hell. She’d died thinking he wanted nothing to do with the child they’d created. I already felt sick for signing that contract and getting as close as I’d gotten to him, so how could I desecrate her memory byactuallydating him?

“What?” Morgan chuckled. “You can’t honestly tell me you’re surprised he developed real feelings for you while he was taking you out on dates.”

“Pretendingto take me out on dates,” I reminded her.

She groaned. “Woman. We’ve had this conversation. He took you out, bought you food, paid for other activities – no matter how fucking bizarre said other activities were – and then kissed you at the end of the night. And that, Miss Ma’am, is what us normal people call adate.”

---