Page 76 of Against All Odds

“She loves you very much.”

“I love her too.”

He reaches for me, but I step back a little, my hand going to my stomach. “I’m still not feeling great,” I explain.

“What did the doctor say?”

That I’m going to have a baby.

“The nausea will probably go away soon.” That is not a lie. She did say that.

“Good, did you want something to drink before we talk?” His voice is hesitant, and I can already sense that he knows this visit isn’t going to end with us tangled in his sheets.

I shake my head. Delaying this is only going to be harder for us both. “No, thank you. Look, I wanted to talk because I just think we need to be smarter than this. We have this ... shared history, and we sayno strings, but I don’t know if that’s really possible, do you?”

“Okay,” he says slowly. “I’m not really sure where this is coming from?”

“I’ve just been thinking, and it feels like it will be so easy for us. We loved each other once. I’m not sure I won’t fall in love with you again.”

He smiles. “I’m not sure you won’t either. I’m a catch.”

“Everett, I’m being serious.”

“So am I.”

I huff and start to pace. This is not going to plan. I go back to the list. “There are other reasons. For one, I’m not in a place to start anything.”

“I didn’t ask you to. If you remember, I told you I couldn’t offer you anything more either.”

Yes, okay, he did. “Then there’s the fact that if this were to get serious, I’m probably going back to California.”

He takes a step toward me. “But we already said we weren’t going to get serious. Hence the no strings.”

Why is he ruining this with his logic?

“I just can’t.”

His eyes narrow slightly, watching my reactions. “Then we don’t.”

Okay. We don’t.

He agreed.

All is well ... not well ... not well at all.

I don’t want this to end. I don’t want any of this.

God, I feel so broken and scared right now.

I want my granny. I want someone to hold me and tell me it’s going to be okay, but I’m alone.

I’m here in front of a man who has made me feel more alive and stronger than anyone ever has, and I have to let him go.

Great, now the tears are coming again.

Everett moves in front of me, stopping my pacing. “You’re crying?”

“No. I’m not. These aren’t tears. They’re just leaking eyes. There’s a lot of dust in the room, or maybe it was the pollen when I walked through the field.”

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