Page 11 of The Baby Bargain
That must be it.
The guy has a penetrating gaze.
Like he's a cop and I'm a murder suspect he's interrogating.
Like he doesn't believe a word I say.
Anyone would feel nervous under that kind of scrutiny.
"Ariel, I get what you're feeling." He leans in closer. "We're good friends."
"Yeah…"
"But we can't—" His eyes flit to my chest. His cheeks flush. Just barely. "We can't cross that line."
"What line?"
His gaze shifts to my bedroom upstairs.
Oh.
No.
I shake my head. "Of course."
He stares at me like I'm crazy. "I'm flattered. But—"
"I don't want to have sex with you."
Surprise streaks his expression.
Okay, that isn't exactly true. I do want to have sex with Chase. In the way I want to have sex with Idris Elba. Because he's attractive, intense, commanding. Because I touched myself to thoughts of him in high school.
Not because it makes sense today.
I don't have time for casual sex.
I have four months.
"I…" God, how do I explain this to him? I can't tell him about my situation. I can't trust him to keep it to himself. "I want to find someone else."
"You need my help?"
"Yeah." I need someone's help. And I can't ask a coworker. I certainly can't ask Skye. "You know a lot of guys."
"I guess."
"And you're very attractive."
A chuckle falls from his lips. "You sure you're not buttering me up?"
"Not for that."
His shoulders relax. "For what then?"
"Can I trust you?" I swallow a sip. Let the liquor warm my throat. According to my fertility app, today is the last viable day of this cycle. Which gives me approximately three weeks to find someone. That doesn't leave a lot of time for caution.
He raises a browcan't you?
