Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“Stop.” He smiles sadly. “I know you weren’t trying to put me down or compare me to those other parents. But the fact you can even make the comparison is why I know I need to work on my relationship with my son.” He sighs and shakes his head. “I just hope it’s not too late.”
“It’s not… It’s never too late.” For years, I wished my parents would get their act together and come for me. Even when I was old enough to know better.
He nods and takes a sip of his drink. When he sets it down, he releases a harsh breath. “Paola and I started dating our freshman year of college. I told her from the get-go that I didn’t want to have kids. I made it clear I had no intention of ever starting a family. I was up front because I knew, for most women, a man not wanting to have kids is a deal breaker. She told me she was okay with that, but apparently, she thought it was a phase I would grow out of. She swore she was on birth control, but she lied.”
Holy shit.
“When Paola told me she was pregnant, I was scared shitless and pissed as fuck that she would deceive me. She showed me the ultrasound picture, and all I could see was our relationship turning into my parents’. The fighting, the name-calling, it turning physical. Her being driven to commit suicide. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t put us in that position. I knew if I stayed, it wouldn’t be good. I was filled with hate and resentment toward her, so I walked away. And I’ve been running ever since.”
“But you’re back now.”
“Yeah, and I barely know my son. Fourteen years wasted.”
“That’s not true,” I tell him, remembering some of the stories Brody shared with me when we were talking the other night before his dad arrived. “He loves you and looks up to you. He wants to work with you, run your business together.”
“He doesn’t like me.”
“He’s scared you’re going to leave.”
Ben’s gaze connects with mine. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Then tell him that.” I take his hands in mine. “And show him.”
“Hey!” Brody steps into the tent. “This is so cool. I never knew these existed.” His eyes drop down to our hands, and he smirks. “Am I interrupting something?”
“No.” I pull my hands away. “Your dad and I were just talking.”
“While holding hands?” He laughs. “I would ask if you’re dating, but I know my dad doesn’t date.”
“Ha-ha, very funny, you little punk.” Ben grabs Brody by the neck and ruffles his hair, which provokes Brody into reciprocating.
As I watch the guys roughhouse, glad to see them laughing and joking, I’m thankful for the reminder that Ben is off-limits.
Not that I was planning to pursue him or anything because I’m off-limits as well. Taking a break. Focusing on me. But hearing it is a good reminder that even if I were interested in Ben like that—which I’m not—he’s not emotionally available.
Good thing I’m not interested in him that way.
“Let’s watch a movie,” Brody says when we step onto the elevator.
“Not tonight. Savannah starts her first day at work tomorrow. I’m sure she wants a little time to decompress. Plus, you have school tomorrow.”
“Fine.” Brody pouts.
“We should have dinner tomorrow night,” I suggest. “You can tell me how your first day back at school and seeing Sariah went.” Sariah is his crush, who he’s planning to ask out.
Brody perks up. “All right, cool.”
The elevator dings on my floor, but before I get off, I look at Brody and Ben. “Thank you for this weekend.”
Matching grins spread across their faces.
“You’re welcome,” Ben says. “Good luck tomorrow.”
Chapter Seven
Savannah
“Did you sleep here last night?” a masculine voice asks, filled with humor. I twist around and find Ben walking into the gym, dressed in a pair of gray sweatpants slung low on his hips and a white T-shirt stretched taut across his chest. The sleeves are short enough I’m able to get a peek at the ink on his biceps. It’s weird seeing him like this, dressed down and looking all normal. Even when we were hanging out this weekend, he was dressed nice.
“I wish,” I tell him as he walks around to the front of the treadmills until he’s facing me. “That would imply I actually slept.”
He chuckles. “Nervous about your first day?”
“I spent the entire night tossing and turning. When I’d finally fall back asleep, I would get trapped in this horrible nightmare where I was calculating numbers, but every time I got so far, I would lose track and have to start all over again. It was exhausting.”
“Sounds like it.”
“I finally gave up on sleep and settled on going for a walk.”
“I can see that.” His gaze descends, and a sexy smirk quirks up in the corner of his mouth. “You’re on my treadmill.”