Page 49 of Misconception (Unrequited 2)

Yeah, bitch.

Wait—no, no. I wasn’t more than that. Back up, hold the phone.

The brunette’s perfect face soured. “Is she, like, your mom’s friend or something?”

Even though music still poured from hidden speakers, everything else fell silent, and all eyes were either on Catty Bitch or me. Murray stood from his seat, looming over her, and Mo tensed under me.

Obviously, I was aware of our age gap, but damn, I hadn’t realized it was so obvious. My cheeks burned with humiliation, but Catty Bitch would never get the kind of reaction out of me she was looking for. I arched an eyebrow at her, giving her the kind of stare down that had sent men running with their tails between their legs.

“Not cool,” Murray hissed. “Who even invited you, Shayla?”

“You don’t get to come into my house and insult the woman I just got done telling you is important to me. You need to leave,” Mo gritted out.

Yael marched over to her, and hand to fucking god, grabbed this bitch by the hair and yanked her to her feet. She pointed to a blonde chick who’d gone red from her forehead to her chest. “You’re done too, Darcy,” she said, cool and even.

Both women ran for the door so fast, I blinked and wondered what the hell had just happened. Yael brushed her hands off like she’d just taken out the trash. I guess she had. Damn, she was scrappy—and I liked it.

Murray gave me a sympathetic look. “Sorry, Mic.”

I shook my head. “Thank you for coming to my defense.”

Conversations started up again, but I was now vastly uncomfortable being in this room full of half-drunk twenty-somethings. It was time to go home, so I swung my legs off Moses and tried to pry myself out of the chair.

Mo’s arms wrapped around me, pulling me back against his chest. “No,” he murmured against my ear.

“I feel weird and I want to go,” I said.

“No, I’m not letting you walk out of here after that. You’ll go back to hiding from me, and that’s pretty much unacceptable.”

I relaxed against him, but I was dying on the inside. “That embarrassed me and makes me wonder how many times I’m going to be asked something like that in the future.”

He sighed against the nape of my neck. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about. That chick’s friends with Yael’s friend, Darcy. She shows up everywhere, trying to ride any famous dick she can find. She should be embarrassed, not you.”

I twisted my head and spoke low beside his ear. “Has she ridden your famous dick?”

The twitch of his muscles was enough of an answer for me. “Yeah, but not any time recently. Last night, I was out with Yael and Murray at some club. Boring as hell, but beats waiting around for you to text me. I have no interest in her or anyone besides my wife. That remains a fact.”

“That was so damn passive-aggressive. You’re better than that, Moses.” I tried wiggling away from him again, but he held me tight. “I’m not leaving, but I do have to use the bathroom and need five minutes to recover without all the pitying eyes on me.”

His arms loosened, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he stood with me and escorted me down a quiet, dark hallway to an equally quiet, dark bedroom. He sat down on the bed, jerking his chin toward a door across from it. “I’ll wait.”

Mo’s master bathroom was stark white and covered in marble. I snooped around, finding nothing more interesting than an unopened jumbo box of condoms. Then I stared at myself in the mirror for a long time. Counting wrinkles, searching for gray hairs, making faces. In the end, I surmised Shayla had been high and possibly in need of glasses. I wasfine as hell, and I had my mom to thank for my smooth, barely-lined skin.

I left the bathroom, finding Mo still waiting for me. He sat on the corner of the bed, his hands clasped between his knees. “Come here, Michaela.”

“People are going to talk trash about our age difference,” I said as I approached him warily.

“I don’t give one solitary fuck what people say.” I stood between his knees, and he rested his hands on my hips. “I know you do, though. I can only promise to shield you and the baby as much as possible.”

His hands slid under the hem of my shirt, pushing it up. I braced myself on his shoulders, holding my breath as Mo rubbed his nose and lips back and forth on my abdomen.

“I don’t want you to go, Mic.” Warm lips pressed kisses around my belly button. “Stay for a while.”

I ran my hand over the top of his waves, murmuring something about blurred lines, but I couldn’t seem to find it in me to protest. I told myself Mo’s lips on my skin were for the baby, but I couldn’t convince myself his arms around me were for anyone else.

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