Page 33 of How Good It Was (Excess All Areas 3)

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Willow laughed as Luke juggled the finds from a successful trip to the local makers market, thrift shops, and florist. “I would have carried some of those, you know.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got this,” he said with a grimace as glass clinked against glass.

“Those three green glass bottles will look great on the side table. And the plants will really fill out the corner where—”

“Door, flower.” He tipped his chin toward his apartment.

“Oh, right.” She took out the key he’d given her and let them in. The faint smell of paint still lingered in the air, and she was grateful they’d kept the windows wide open, made pregnancy-safe paint choices, and waited until she’d just hit her second trimester. “It looks so much better in here.”

Luke placed all the bags on the table. “In fairness, it does.”

The large cushions in tan and black and white had given new life to the grey sofa. And the fresh white paint made the single brick wall pop. With some furniture rearrangement, she’d made a reading nook and a living area to watch TV that was clearly separate from the dining table. It felt bigger.

Airier, as the early May sunshine flooded in.

“I’m hungry,” she said.

“What do you feel like?”

Willow started to take the glass bottles out of the bag. “Spaghetti?”

“Pasta I can do. Garlic bread?”

“Perfect. I was thinking, I need to post the first video of us on Shamaze and follow it up with a mix of video and images on my other platforms. We need to start, or it’s going to be too close to me announcing the pregnancy. But I can’t do that until you signed the—”

“Fuck me, Will. It’s been a nice day. Do we have to talk about this right now?”

“You said yesterday you’d sign it.”

Luke sighed. “You’re right. Give it to me. There’s nothing about custody and payments and shit in here is there? Because that really does need a lawyer.”

“No. I figured we could work that out together or mediate it when the time comes. This is just about the deal. I’ve amended the confidentiality clause to include only the members of the band and their immediate relationships.”

Luke flipped through the clauses. The definition of confidential information. Their roles as the disclosing party and receiving party. The time period. The details of the provisions. Twelve months to act as her boyfriend. Clear boundaries stating it was fake. To appear on both their individual social media accounts and the possibility of a joint one. To assist in the creation of videos and photographs to lend credibility to the relationship. To never publicly share what they’d agreed to.

The money.

Luke blew out a breath, then cricked his neck from side to side. “Do we have to include a payment? I don’t want this money.”

“In any custody agreement in the future, there’ll be a balancing to make sure our child has the same opportunities whether with me or with you. Call this a massive forward down payment.”

He placed the contract on the counter, then shocked her by cupping her cheek. “You really need this to relax, to feel good about this, flower?”

Sincerity radiated from his eyes. “I do. I can’t leave myself wide open to being let down again.”

He studied her, searching for something. “I wish we knew each other better.” His thumb grazed her lower lip.

Oh, God.

She needed. Something.

His hands on her.

Space.

She wanted to go back. To be the woman he’d lifted against the wall, showered with, fallen off the bed with.

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