Page 70 of Billionaire's Second Chance

"He'll be OK. He woke up earlier and even talked to us," I elaborated. "My sister and my mother are there with him."

She remained silent.

"You looked amazing in that dress, by the way," I changed the subject. "Forget anything I said about it being too tight."

Her eyes glazed over, but she managed to hold the tears from escaping. Her lips parted, then closed.

"You were right. It was a bit tight. I've been eating too much lately," she played it off.

"But you have also been throwing up." I squeezed her hands tighter and looked straight into her eyes. "Wanna tell me what's up with that?"

She shifted in her seat, pulled her hands away from my grip, and got up.

"Listen, it's getting really late, and Rocky has been all alone since this afternoon," she informed me. "I need to get going."

"Fine, I'll drive you," I offered.

I leaned on the table and watched her frantically gather her belongings, growing more nervous by the second.

Something was off.

21

Ava

Myheartjumpedinsidemy chest as I sat in the passenger seat of Damon's Bentley. He had made a few comments about my tight dress and my sickness. I knew I would soon have to tell him the truth.

What would he say? Would he be happy? Did he even want to be a father?

My mind was entirely made up. I wanted the baby more than anything in the world. And I didn't care if he did. Or if it ruined my career.

"You're awfully quiet," he touched my hand, one eye on the road, the other stealing glances at me.

"I'm just overwhelmed by everything," I squirmed in my seat.

He nodded in agreement. He was too. His father had just had a stroke, and as much as he tried to conceal it, I could see the worry in his eyes.

We rode in silence, letting music from the radio soothe our souls.

Damon parked the car in front of my building and turned to look at me. "Would you mind if I came in?"

I hesitated. I wasn't expecting that, nor was I sure where I had left the pregnancy test. He saw through my empty stare and frowned.

"I just can't bear to be alone," he confessed.

"Of course, Damon, you can come in," I replied with a sunken heart.

He was hurting, and he needed me. I couldn't force myself to let him go, his vulnerability setting my insides on fire.

He followed me up the stairs of my building and two flights up to my apartment. As we approached it, we heard tiny barks and paw scratches at the door. I smiled, and Damon's frown turned into a joyful grin.

"Rocky," I rejoiced, grabbing the puppy in my arms. "Meet Mr. Alexander."

"You better stop that!" He poked my ribs. "I'm Damon, Rocky. Forget her nonsense."

Seeing Damon sprawled on the simple couch in my living room, Rocky's soft fur between his fingers lit my face with pure joy. He'd take quick glances at me as I frantically tidied up my apartment.

Damon, the big-shot movie producer, Hollywood's most eligible Playboy, sat peacefully on my old, shabby couch, observing every one of my moves.

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