Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
I hesitate as he heads back to the stairs. “Wait a second, hold on. We haven’t even talked about what we’re doing back here.”
“I told you, you’re staying the night. I’m not going to let the mother of my future child sleep on a couch ever again. I have a spare room with its own bathroom, so you don’t have to worry about anything.”
I let out a laugh. A spare room in this place? It’s probably nicer than anything I’ve ever slept in before.
This house, it screams luxury. Everything about it oozes money and power. I knew Finn was connected, but this is too much, I feel too dizzy, and the way he’s talking about me and the baby is only making things more difficult.
“Can you slow down?” I say, leaning up against the wall to steady myself. “I just wanted to talk to you, I didn’t think you’d drag me back to your place.”
But Finn’s by my side instantly. “Are you okay? Do you need some water? You should sit down, I don’t want you to—”
“I’m fine,” I say, shrugging him off. He glares at me, jaw working, and it takes a beat to notice my hands still on his chest. I hold them there, feeling his heart race beneath my palm, before I yank them back. “You’re just speeding along, not really listening to me at all, and I haven’t even agreed to anything yet.”
He visibly gathers himself. “Let me ask you something. If you had the choice, would you rather sleep in a bed tonight or on a couch?”
“Depends where the bed’s located. If it’s near you—” I raise my eyebrows, fighting back a smile.
“If it’s near me, you’d be crawling under the sheets and begging me to spoon you.”
“Please. We both know you’re the little spoon in this relationship.”
Some of his anger bleeds away. “Doubtful. I’m big spoon, always. Just come with me, okay? Let me show you the guest suite and you can decide what you want to do. If you don’t like it, you can go back to your friend’s little apartment.”
“Guest… suite? Sure, okay, of course it’s a suite.”
He laughs to himself as he heads upstairs. I curse quietly, but follow, unable to help myself. I’m too damn curious, and he’s too damn bossy.
The room is about as lavish as I expected. A small sitting area bleeds into a master-sized bedroom. There’s plenty of space, including a full, beautifully remodeled bathroom and a massive walk-in closet with nothing but spare sheets and such folded and tucked neatly away.
“Nobody ever uses this,” he says with a shrug as he gets out linens, towels, and pillows from the top shelves. “There are extra toothbrushes and stuff in the bathroom, use whatever you want.” He pauses, leaning against the frame of the closet door. “Still want to go sleep on that couch?”
I groan as I sit on the end of the obscenely comfortable queen-sized bed. “It’s not even a nice couch,” I complain. “It’s like trying to pass out on rocks. I don’t know what she’s got in those cushions, but I swear, they’re filled with pebbles.”
He laughs and walks over, slowly sitting beside me. I test the bed some more, bouncing up and down, trying not to look at him. My palms are sweaty and I’m weirdly nervous.
Am I really going to stay here tonight? I don’t want this to turn into another tryst—that one night was complicated enough, and now that I’m pregnant with his baby, I figure I need to start placing boundaries, or else this guy is going to steamroll me. I already feel him doing it.
Finn’s clearly a man used to getting his way.
I am not having sex with him tonight—or ever again. That one time was mistake enough; I need to be more careful moving forward.
This guy is the father of my child, whether I like it or not.
But even just sleeping here feels like crossing a line. It’s the way he talks about me, like he’s going to control everything I do from now on.
He calls it taking care of me, but it sounds more like making sure I obey his commands.
“I’ll send someone to your friend’s apartment to gather your things,” he says, voice softer now, like he’s finally too tired to be pissed at me.
“You have people?”
“I have a lot of people.” He glances over, trying not to smile. “I run a kind of crew.”
I snort-laugh. It’s not cute, but I’m too blown away by this whole thing to care. “Crew? Are you joking?”
“I wish I were, but no, I’m not. Tell me your friend’s address.”
“I should text her first, let her know someone’s stopping by.” I take out my phone and dash off a few messages to Kathryn letting her know where I am and what’s going on.