Page 95 of Messy Strokes (Wrecked Roommates)

“I guess time’s up, huh?” I note, trying not to check out his naked ass, but it’s impossible.

As he slips his legs back into his jeans, he shakes his head and orders, “Stay here.”

“What?”

“You can nurse her in here.”

I blink slowly, convinced I’ve heard him wrong. “You want me to nurse her in here?”

He glances over his shoulder at me and quirks his brow. “That a problem?”

“Well, no. But is it what you want?” I ask, unable to hide my surprise or the smile stretched on my face.

He rolls his eyes. “She’s my daughter. I don’t want her hidden away in your room.”

The familiar dagger in my chest from all the secrets I’m keeping sinks deeper, causing my rebuttal to lodge in my throat.

“Get cleaned up,” he orders. “I’ll take care of Penny until you’re ready.”

If only he knew how many ways I could take his offer.

I bite my lip and blink away the sting in the back of my eyes, still paralyzed on his bed.

I’ll never be ready to tell him the truth, no matter how much he deserves to hear it.

I can’t.

The lie has gone too far. The web too tangled. And my feelings for him? His for Penny? It isn’t fair.

He’s too amazing.

Thoughtful when I least expect it. Growly, even though he’s a big teddy bear.

He’s perfect.

Too perfect. Especially for a girl like me.

I don’t deserve him.

And he doesn’t deserve to be trapped in a potential lie. It isn’t fair.

The realization makes my watery smile slip as he buttons up his jeans.

Watching me, Milo’s brows furrow. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I clear my throat and push the constant guilt a little further inside my chest, making it seem like I’m carrying an extra thousand pounds as I get to my feet. “I’m gonna go clean up.”

As I try to slip past him, he grabs my bicep and keeps me in place. “What’s wrong?”

A small voice whispers I should tell him the truth. Tell him he’s too good for me. I don’t deserve him. I’ve suckered him into being with me. I’ve lied about him being a father.

But I’m too much of a coward to utter a single word.

“You gotta talk to me, Mads. We gotta communicate.”

“I know.” I sniff and shrug out of his hold. “I’m gonna go clean up.”

“Only if you promise to talk to me when you’re done.”

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