Page 142 of The Billion Heirs Boxed Set
SADIE
This is Rhonda. You hung up on me, so I’m texting. I’m pregnant. The baby’s yours.
Already I’ve committed the text to memory. The words pound into my brain in synchrony with my heartbeat.
This can’t be happening, especially after the fight we just had.
“This is bullshit.” Miles paces the room. I’ve seen him angry before, but this is a whole new level. “We used protection.”
“Yeah?” I whip my hands to my hips. I don’t like hearing about the guy I’m into talking about sleeping with another woman. And impregnating her. “Let me guess. ‘Don’t worry, baby. I’m on the pill. I’ve got it covered.’”
Miles stops and meets my gaze, his blue eyes on fire. “I don’t go out in a storm without a raincoat. Ever.”
Nice.
“Raincoats sometimes have holes in them,” I counter. We used condoms last night, thank God.
“Jesus Fuck! That’s not the same and you know it.”
“Do I?”
He rakes his hand through his hair, holding it back for a moment. “I hardly remember her, Sadie.”
Just what I want to hear.
“Great. That makes me feel a lot better. You liked her enough to fuck her but not enough to remember her. Plus, if you can’t remember the woman, how can you be sure you put on a condom?”
His gaze narrows. “Because I always put on a goddamned condom! I put one on with you, didn’t I?”
Damn. I feel like someone just lodged a bullet right in the middle of my heart. Didn’t he just say I was different? That he was feeling something more? But now I’m in the same category as Rhonda, whoever the hell she is. Just some woman he put a condom on for because that’s what he always does. He needs that thin latex barrier not only as protection from an STD and a baby, but from getting too close to a woman.
I hold back a sniffle. No way is Miles Bridger going to bring me to tears. I won’t give him that power.
“If I’m just another woman, then I’m out of here.” I turn again but I don’t move.
Not yet.
Because he’s going to stop me, like he did last time. Isn’t he?
“Sadie,” he groans, but doesn’t come over.
I count to five and then I walk forward, to the door, and out of the garage. I can’t stand the pungent smell of motor oil anyway. And Miles Bridger? He’s just another dick on the long list of dicks I’ve fallen for.
Who needs this? Who needs whiplash being with a guy like him? I count myself lucky I didn’t get in any deeper with him. One minute he’s pissed at me for supposedly being ashamed of what’s between us. The next, he’s got a baby on the way. With someone else.
Sure, I never took Miles for a virgin. Hell, no. He has a past. So do I. I just never expected it to be thrown in my face like this.
I reach my car and my stomach lets out a growl. A couple lettuce leaves didn’t do much for my hunger and I didn’t have a chance to eat any of the meal Chance offered. The clock on my dash flashes seven. I can’t go home. My bed sheets smell like Miles. Of what we did together.
I drive away from Bridger Ranch, away from Bayfield, ending up in Silverton. I pull up in front of the all-too-familiar roadside bar. Maybe I’m a masochist because this place also reminds me of Miles. But Tracy is working tonight and I could use my BFF.
When I pull into the lot, it’s clear Saturday night is bustling at Jody’s, as usual. I grab an empty seat at the bar.
“Hey, Sadie.” Desiree, one of the bartenders, slides a cocktail napkin in front of me. “What sounds good tonight?”
Miles Bridger on a platter. If he weren’t such a dickhead.
So then maybe just his head.
