Page 28 of Teasing a King

“I can’t do that,” I hiss at her. “It’ll just mess everything up.”

“You don’t know that,” Hope says with a shrug. “It might make everything better.”

Part of me wonders if there’s any truth to what Hope is saying. I squash it before it can become anything more than a distant thought. I’ve spent enough time wondering what might have been. If Van and I hadn’t rushed into bed that first night, would we have eventually found our way to one another? Would things have taken a more natural course? Would we have been together instead of whatever we are now?

I think about the urgency of that night, the way we’d come together. The intensity had been like nothing I’d ever felt before. Something about Van had drawn me to him almost from the start. Looking back now, that night seems almost unavoidable. Even now, it’s all I can do not to grab him and kiss him. That first night in his house, I’d been so tempted. He’d looked so adorably embarrassed about the stupid towels. I’d stared at his lips, remembering the feel of them on mine. Even after I’d retreated to the safety of my own room, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking of him.

Standing there in the hallway, watching him get so flustered over towels had made me want to tease him. But I’d sensed that he was bothered by the situation more than he should have been, which was adorable. All at once, I’d had the urge to kiss him. Standing outside my bedroom door, I’d looked at his lips and imagined leaning in and pressing my mouth to his. I’d known exactly how good it would feel, too. Which is why I’d bid him goodnight and fled to the safety of my own bedroom. I’d also lain awake for far too long thinking of Van and his mouth. Eventually, I’d slipped a hand between my legs and brought myself to a quick orgasm, hoping it would ease some of the want inside me. It hadn’t worked though. I’d just dreamed of Van and woken up feeling even more tightly wound than before.

Shaking my head to clear it, I meet Hope’s gaze. “It doesn’t matter,” I say. “I have to focus on what’s most important. And that’s giving this baby the best possible life.”

I give her what I hope is a convincing smile. Judging by Hope’s expression, it doesn’t quite hit the mark. She’s quiet for a few seconds, watching me as though waiting for something more. When I don’t say anything, she gives me a sad smile.

“Your happiness is important too, you know,” she says softly.

I ignore the sudden urge to cry and fake a smile. “I am happy,” I insist. “I’m going to be a mom. My best friend is getting married to the man of her dreams. And I get to live down the street from her. What more could a girl want?”

I can tell Hope wants to press the issue further, but she knows me well enough to know I’m not going to budge on this one. I see the moment she chooses to lighten the mood. I’m still caught off-guard by her answer, though.

“A man who gives you screaming orgasms daily and takes out the trash without complaining,” she says with a wide grin.

I roll my eyes, but I’m laughing as I toss a French fry at her. “No one likes a braggart.”

Hope catches the fry and pops it into her mouth with a shrug. “I do have it pretty great, huh?” she says with a laugh.

I focus on my lunch, but I can’t help but think of Van. He takes out the trash without a word of protest. And I have firsthand knowledge of his ability to make me scream. It’s just that the screaming orgasm part is off the table these days. Because of my rule. Not that Van has given me any indication he’s interested in me. Which is a good thing. That’s what I want. Isn’t it?

Hope and I spend the rest of our lunch discussing wedding plans rather than Van. I’m thankful for the change of subject, even if my thoughts keep straying to my sexy new roommate. My phone buzzes with a text and I reach for it to check. It’s Van.

Van: Are you free this afternoon?

“Uh huh,” Hope says as I type out a quick response.

I look up at her, unaware that I’m smiling. “What?”

Hope points at me, eyes narrowed. “Who’s texting you?”

My phone dings again before I can answer her.

Van: I was thinking we could go shopping for a crib if you’re up for it.

I feel a flutter of excitement at the idea but do my best to push it down while I type out a reply. I school my features into a neutral mask and look back at Hope.

“It’s just Van,” I say, shrugging like it’s no big deal. “He wants to go shopping for stuff for the baby’s room this afternoon.”

Hope nods slowly. “I see,” she says.

“What?” I ask. “Why do you have that tone?”

She shakes her head. “There was no tone.”

I point at her. “There was a tone, and you know it. Just say it.”

“Fine,” she sighs. “It’s just that your face lit up when you read that text. And I know it might have just been the subject matter, but I think it’s more about the sender.”

I sigh and roll my eyes. “I think you’re seeing what you want to see,” I say. “I’m just excited about getting the nursery ready.”

“I don’t think that’s it,” Hope argues. “At least, it’s not all of it. You like him. It’s so obvious. I don’t know why you won’t admit it.”

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