Page 87 of Your Second Chance
When we were done, I wrapped her in a towel and pressed a kiss to her temple before scooping her into my arms once again. She didn’t protest, simply nuzzled into me with a soft hum, her body relaxing completely in my hold.
I carried her to my room, where I gently laid her down, tucking her beneath the covers. As I slid in beside her, she sleepily reached out, her hand finding mine.
“You’re safe now,” I whispered, my lips brushing her temple. “I’ve got you. Always.”
She sighed softly, her fingers curling lightly against my chest.
I held her like that, knowing there was nothing I wouldn’t do for her.
33
nova
Somehow, after years of trying to convince her, I’d finally managed to get Luna to set up her own social media account. What looked like overnight success had actually taken sixteen weeks after we got back from the Cotswolds on New Year’s for her following to explode, and now, months later, she was completely viral. It still didn’t feel real how fast it had happened.
“Are you ready to celebrate one million followers on the app?”
Luna laughed, plopping down beside me and tapping her legs. Without hesitation, I lifted my swollen feet, and she started rubbing them.
“Ew. I hate that,” she said with a scrunched nose. “I’m just like everyone else. I don’t know why people want to suddenly learn yoga from me.”
I smirked. I knew exactly why. Luna would transition seamlessly into poses while sharing her wild dating stories in a new country, combining chaos and grace in a way only she could. It was refreshing, relatable, and absolutely hilarious.
“Have you spent any of the money yet?”
“No.”
There was a long pause between us. Every day, without fail, Luna asked if I’d spent any of the money Austin had sent me. And every day, my answer was the same—I hadn’t touched it. He’d set it aside in a separate account before he left, but after everything happened, I transferred it again. Just in case. A buffer I never planned to use.
Not long after we left the Cotswolds, Luna and I moved into Ollie’s place in London. With the ridiculously low rent Ollie was charging us and the end-of-season bonus coming in, I was managing. The money would probably go toward nursery fees when I went back to work after the baby, but at the moment, I was doing fine on my own. Luna was thriving, especially with new money and partnerships coming in faster than she could process. She had to hire a management company.
“You still haven’t heard from him?” Luna asked, breaking the silence.
I shook my head. “No. Ollie and I are meeting with Peter to discuss the paparazzi photos. We need to decide which one to release to the news to sell the story that I’m pregnant and we’re dating.”
Luna raised a brow. “But you twoaredating.”
I kicked her leg lightly. She retaliated with a slap to the bottom of my foot, and I yelped.
“Ouch. I’m thirty-eight weeks, take pity on me.”
She rolled her eyes but leaned forward to rub my very swollen stomach. Her hands were warm and soothing as she traced small circles.
“Not until you figure out what you’re going to namemydaughter.” Her grin was wicked as she poked at the side of my bump.
“Back to your point,” I said, avoiding the naming question because I hadn’t even thought about what I was going to name her. Somehow, in the last couple weeks, I’d gotten a car seat,organized the nursery, and filed all necessary paperwork with work, but naming her was too personal. “I am not dating Ollie.”
Luna laughed again, her grin widening as I stood up, throwing my hands on my hips in an attempt to look authoritative. “Seriously, Lune.”
“Alright, fine.” She raised her hands in mock surrender. “I didn’t realize sleeping in his bed?—”
“His bed is the most comfortable thing I’ve ever slept on, and those orthopedic pillows are a godsend. Plus, he helps me up every morning so I’m not stuck rolling around like a stranded turtle all day.”
“Or going to dinner with him every Friday,” she added, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
“That’s an easy one,” I shot back. “We have late meetings on Fridays, and by the time we’re done, I’m starving. Dinner makes sense.”
Luna arched a brow, her grin turning downright depraved. “And the pièce de résistance—you fuck him all the time.”
