Page 157 of Between the Lines

Snuggling closer to his chest, I close my eyes. “I have a non-sequitur.”

“Shoot.”

“Do you want kids?”

His hand resumes sweeping up and down my back. “That’s right. We haven’t spoken about that, yet. Important for the memoir.”

“Absolutely crucial,” I murmur.

“I think I want kids. Yes. But if I have them, I can’t… Iwon’twork as much as I do now. I want Titan to be better positioned by then. So I’m needed less.”

“Uh-huh. That’s smart.”

“Do you want kids?”

I turn to look at his jawline. “I’m not sure. I used to really want them. But now, for the past decade… I haven’t let myself think about that.”

Kids would mean settling down somewhere. Staying in one place. The cat on the armchair and the annual gym membership. A stable group of friends. A house and a family car. Maybe a garage.

And a man to raise them with.

“You’ve got time to figure it out,” he says.

“I’m almost thirty.”

“You’ve got time,” he repeats and presses his lips to my temple. “You’re already figuring out loads of things.”

“Oh. Am I?”

“Yes. Like there being not a single thing wrong with you, or your ability to enjoy things.” He kisses me again. “You’ve told me before that you like to play roles.”

“Roles? Yes.”

“When you move from one ghostwriting gig to another. What role have you been playing here in LA? With me?”

I pause, my hand on his chest. The question catches me off guard. “I’m not sure,” I finally say. “It’s been one of the harder ones.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I’ve tried to play Charlotte of the Big City. Confident. Charismatic. Not taking any of your shit.” I smile. “But, sometimes, I lose my focus, and I think I’m just... me.”

Aiden’s eyes grow soft. “I like that version best,” he says. “The one that’s just you.”

“You know what? Maybe, I’m starting to, as well.”

CHAPTER 56

CHARLOTTE

It’s Thursday evening, two days after we got back from his Malibu house, and I’m sitting on the couch in his TV room.

It’s 9 p.m. and we’ve just finished having takeout while watching another episode ofFriends. Aiden is lounging beside me in a pair of gray sweats and a T-shirt, with my laptop open on his lap.

I play with the hem of the oversized blue T-shirt I’m wearing. It’s his. I’d thrown it on along with a pair of pajama shorts after showering in his giant en suite bathroom. That was after he’d gotten home from work and we had fast, hot sex in his bed.

I’m getting very used to this intimacy. Every day, still, since we started having sex again.

“What do you think?” I ask.

---