Page 90 of End Game
“What a random question.”
“I know,” I say, feeling a little silly. “I was just curious, that’s all.”
“Well, I thought a pretty light grey would be nice, if the room is bright. If it’s not, then maybe a pale yellow to make it a little cheerier. Both are pretty neutral colors.”
“If the room is bright? You don’t know which you’ll use as the nursery?”
She bites the inside of her cheek and shakes her head. “I’ll be moving before she arrives, so I’ll wait and see.”
My stomach bottoms out, hits the floor, before lodging itself in my throat. “You’re still thinking about moving?”
“I have to, I think. I’ll stay around Chicago,” she says softly. “I just can’t afford the rent here with a baby.”
This time, it’s my heart that hits me over the head. I follow her gaze to the floor, feeling like a complete dipshit for not considering that. Babies are expensive, or so everyone says. She’s a fucking blogger. She can’t make much.
As I look back up at her, my chest tightens and I realize I don’t want her to be too far from me. The thought of not being able to drop by like I did tonight after work or have dinner delivered to her when she says she’s tired like I did on Wednesday really bothers me.Reallybothers me.
“It’s fine,” she says, shifting on the sofa. “Really. I wanted to move anyway.”
“I thought you loved it here? You were just telling me how you like to look out the window and watch the people.”
“I do, but not that much. It won’t be that big of a deal. Besides, I might move in with Poppy since she and Finn are still on the outs.”
“They still aren’t talking?”
“Nope. She refuses until he apologizes to her,” she laughs. “She’s so stubborn. Finn met his match with her.”
Warring over what to do, what to offer, what to say, I fiddle with the hem of my shorts. “You know I’ll help you with rent?—”
“No.”
My gaze flips to hers. “I can give you what I make a year if you want to make an estimate about child support. You know I’m Branch Best, right?’
“I don’t give a fuck who you are.”
Her words are cast off with an angry tone, intended to cut a little with the sharp edges. Instead, a light has been switched on inside me and I can’t help but laugh.
“I’m not kidding,” she warns.
“I know you’re not.”
She bends her neck and grimaces.
“Your neck still hurt?”
“A little. Not as bad.”
“Face the wall,” I say, guiding her around with my hands. She does as I instruct and moans as I start to work the tense muscles in her shoulders. “How does that feel?”
“Amazing.”
She moves her body so I can get a better angle. I push and pull, kneading and pressing, working her little shoulders around in my hands. Every now and then she sighs or moves in a way that throws a scent of pineapples my way.
It takes everything I have to stay focused on the task at hand and not the task between my legs, as I touch her gorgeous body.
Her back arches as she stretches over her head, her ass scooting back against the couch towards me just enough to catch the spark that’s always ready to go off around her into full blaze. The burn is slow, the embers starting to smolder, as she sits upright again.
“Thank you,” she says, her voice breathless.
