Page 203 of The Single Dads Club
“What kind of question is that?” I scoffed.
“A good one,” Mandy said. “Now answer it.”
“Well, I’ve already slept with him, so that sort of speaks for itself.”
“It doesn’t say how comfortable are you with sexuality. It says sexual intimacy,” she pointed out.
“You know what? This quiz is stupid. You know me,” I pleaded. “I’m not an ice princess.”
“I see we’ve struck a nerve. Does this have anything to do with why you’re still lying in bed?”
I took a sip of my coffee, opting not to answer.
Again, though, Mandy outsmarted me. “So you got intimate with him again and it was too much for you? Just say it.”
“It wasn’t that,” I said, and the words poured from me like water breaking through a dam. “I told you. He wanted to give me a drawer at his place and after everything that’s happened, it’s just not something I’m ready for. I mean, I might have to get ready to be a mother. I don’t think I can really handle falling in love on top of everything else. There’s too much happening.”
“So you think you’re falling in love?” Mandy asked.
I set my coffee down, then leaned back against my pillows before huffing out a sigh. “That’s not the point. The point is that I’m overwhelmed and he keeps pushing for more. I could have handled myself better but—”
“But you think you’re falling for him?” Mandy asked again.
I leveled her with a stare. “I don’t think. I know.”
“And that scares you?”
“Scares me? It terrifies me.” I shook my head. “But that’s still not the important part. Mandy, what if I really am pregnant? I’ll love my baby more than life itself. And if I love him, too – think about how much that is for someone like me to lose.”
She closed her hand over mine and offered a gentle smile. “Then I’ll remind you again. You’re not your mother. And even if you were? Would it be so bad?”
I picked up my coffee, lost for words. “I’m done with this quiz.”
Yup. Ice Princess it is. I may not admit it to Mandy but I have to admit it to myself. Now I have to figure out what to do with that knowledge.
“Fine,” Mandy said. “But just…remember what we talked about, okay? The next time you see Mason?”
I nodded. “I will.”
If there was a next time, at least. Because I was pretty sure if poor Devon thought I was a psycho, Mason had at least as much reason. If fact, I was starting to wonder if he’d ever want to talk to me again.
But what was even more worrisome was how awful that thought made me feel…
Broken and a little lost inside.
Chapter Eighteen
Mason
I swallowed hard, shifting the bag in my hands carefully before knocking on the door.
To be fair, I didn’t know if she was home—she hadn’t answered my text, and in light of my new discovery, I thought it was best not to send another. Instead, I opted to go straight to the source, readying to make things as right as I could.
If only Bren would let me.
A moment passed and I knocked again. I waited as I heard the muffled creak of floorboards and then, finally, met Bren’s gaze as she opened the door. Her hair was covered by a fluffy white towel and she wore nothing but a silky robe that clung to her wet skin so that I could see the pert outlines of her nipples.
The look of her alone sent my mind reeling back to yesterday as she writhed in my arms.
