Page 66 of Accidental Mile High Daddy
He nodded to himself. Or me. I wasn’t sure.
Like he’d finally caught up.
“I’ll take care of it,” he said, voice sturdy, unwavering.
My stomach dropped. “What—? What does that mean?”
“I’ll cover everything.” His gaze met mine as he moved, back and forth, back, and forth. “Medical costs. Furniture. Supplies. If you want a better apartment, I’ll pay the rent. Hell, I’ll buy it outright. Whatever you need. Just tell me.”
I went still. He kept going.
It only got worse. “You should consider taking the year off if you can, or you’ll be going on maternity leave right before the next school year ends. And I’ll get you a proper OB, best one in Atlanta, or fuck it, I’ll find the best one in the country. I’ll make sure you’ve got whatever support you need. Prenatal care, a driver, anything.”
I stared at him, my eyes widening. “Jesus fucking Christ,” I breathed.
“I’m not going to let you do this alone,” he said, as if it were the most generous thing anyone had ever offered me. “I’ll make sure you’re safe. Both—both of you.”
I stared at him, blinking hard to try to negate the pain behind my eyes, trying to process the tangle of emotions piling in my throat.
He’d called me tonight. He’d said he needed to talk, that he’d made a mistake. But none of this sounded like a man who realized hemissedme, if that’s what it was — it sounded like a man signing a check to placate a problem.
“Was that what you were going to tell me when you called me?” I asked, my lower lip quivering despite my desperate grasp on myself. “That you’d changed your mind and wanted to co-sign a lease with me for a life you don’t want?”
He winced. “That’s not?—”
“That’s what you’re doing, Matt.”
“I’m trying to help. I’m trying—God dammit, Sienna.” He tipped his head back, his Adam’s apple working as he looked skyward for a moment, then dropped his gaze to mine. “I’m processing this. I’m trying to work out the best solution here.”
“No. You’re trying to fix a problem.” I swallowed. “Except I’m not a problem.We’renot a problem.”
Measured breaths slowly raised and lowered his chest. His jaw steeled, his hands turned to fists at his sides, silence creeping between us again in the hazy aftermath.
“I don’t want anything from you, Matt,” I said again, low, and even and honest. “Not your money. Not a new apartment. Not a driver.”
His eyes locked with mine in a flash. “Don’t be proud.”
“I’m not,” I bit back. “I’m protecting myself. I don’ttrustyou. Not after Tulum, not after that night at your place, not after the way you shut medown—fuck, not aftereverything.”
Something flickered in his expression, something I couldn’t quite place.
My throat ached from how hard it clamped shut, my words coming out breathy and broken. “You made me feel like it was real,” I choked. “Then you took it all back before I could even catch my breath.”
“I didn’t take it back, Sienna, I?—”
“Youdid.” My chest cracked on the words. “You did, and you’re trying to do it now, but you’re dressing it up with dollar signs and pragmatic problem-solving.”
The tremor in my hands came back, but it wasn’t from the cold now. It was the adrenaline coursing through me, tearing me to shreds, standing here in front of this man who had somehow thoroughly wrecked me far more than his brother ever had with far less.
And Matt, for all his power, arrogance, certainty, andcontrol, stood there like a man who didn’t know how to build something that wasn’t transactional.
I didn’t want to be a fucking transaction. Not again. Not for him.
“I want to be there for this,” he said quietly. “All of it. If you’ll let me. I didn’t get to with Zach.”
I blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean? Zach?—”
He cut me off with a shake of his head, his feet finally slowing to a stop in front of me. “It’s complicated.”
