Page 83 of Risk

“Try one and see if you think they taste as good as they look.”

I take the top pancake and place it on the waiting plate before me. I pour some maple syrup on it and then cut a piece and pop it into my mouth and chew.

“So good,” I tell him on a moan.

“You keep moaning like that, and we’ll be finishing breakfast later.”

My clit throbs. For fuck’s sake. I thought I’d be okay after last night. That my horniness would have abated. Apparently not.

Ignoring my southern region, I swallow the pancake and clear my throat. “About that…last night…”

“You’re going to say it was a mistake. That it can’t happen again. It’s not a good idea because we’re having kids together. And you think I only want you because you’re pregnant; otherwise, I wouldn’t have wanted you. Did I miss anything? Or does that about cover it?” He doesn’t even pause cutting his pancake. Just fires out those words and then puts the piece of cooked batter in his mouth, chews, swallows, and then takes a drink of his orange juice, all the while looking at me with expectant eyes.

My mouth has dropped open. I blink a few times. Press my lips together. Run my tongue around my mouth to moisten it.

Then, when I feel like I can speak coherently, I say, “Yes, that covers it.”

“Thought so.” He puts his knife and fork down. “You want to know what I think?”

“No.”

His look is unamused.

So, I begrudgingly say, “Yes.”

He puts his elbows on the table and leans forward, bringing him closer to me. Part of me wants to lean back away from him. The other part wants to lean in closer.

I just can’t figure out which is the stronger of the two parts.

“We’re inevitable.” He stands, walks up beside me, leans down, and presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Enjoy your breakfast. I’ll see you later.”

Then, he’s gone, disappearing down the hall.

A few minutes later, I hear the elevator dinging, telling me that he’s leaving the apartment.

And I’m still sitting here, unmoving, rolling his two poignant words over and over in my mind.

“We’re inevitable.”

TWENTY-NINE

It’s been eleven days since the mishap, as I now refer to it.

“We’re inevitable.”

And Kaden hasn’t said anything since that morning. I mean, obviously, he’s talked to me, and we’ve hung out in the evenings, like we always do, and we have had most dinners together. But he’s said nothing about our night together and hiswe’re inevitablespeech. Okay, it wasn’t a speech, but you know what I mean. He’s basically acting like nothing happened.

And I know I should be relieved by this. But I’m not.

It’s driving me fucking crazy.

Which is obviously a me problem.

But I don’t know if he’s doing this to drive me nuts or if he’s just decided it’s not worth the hassle. That I’m not worth the hassle and he’s resolved that we are best off as just friends—and soon-to-be co-parents.

I’m still horny one hundred percent of the time that I’m with him and ninety-nine percent of the time when I’m not with him because I’ve now got two nights of sex with him to obsess over.

I really need to get a grip.

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