Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 131821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
“Cameron, please,” I beg in a whisper. “You can’t tell anyone. It’s…complicated.”
Air whooshes from her lips, almost as if in relief, and she rushes forward, dropping on the bed beside me. “He loves you, and you broke his heart.”
My muscles lock, and I wait for her to yell at me, so I’m shocked when her arms wrap tight around me and she tugs me into her chest.
“I never meant to hurt him,” I admit, pulling back and running a hand over Deaton’s curly hair. “There’s just”—I swallow—“so much at stake.”
When I look up at Cameron, there’s a sympathetic smile on her lips, but it’s the words she leaves me with that are sure to haunt me.
“I would argue that there’s so much to lose.” She pushes to her feet, squeezing my hand before letting it fall. “If you go too far down this road, you will.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Payton
Before, February
Warm lips press to my collarbone, and a smile tugs at my lips. I stretch my neck, allowing him more access, and his mouth curves against my skin, his hair tickling along my ear and making me giggle.
I shift in the bed, spinning, and he takes me in his arms, holding me tightly.
“It’s time to wake up, Payton.”
“Just five more minutes.”
“That would only make you want five more,” he whispers. “Come on, time to get up.” He tugs at my hands, but I just twine my fingers with his, reveling in the warmth.
Finally, my eyes open, locking on to a perfect pair of brown ones. “Good morning, Deaton.”
His eyes slope at the sides, his voice low. “Good morning, Payton.”
“I miss you,” I whisper. “I don’t want you to go.”
“I know.” He nods, his voice fading. “But it’s time to get up now.”
“Wait.” I swallow, reaching out when he begins to blur. “Wait!”
I fly up in bed, blinking around the room when a soft cry reaches me.
I look to the side, smiling down at my son in his bassinet, his big blue eyes wide open, tiny fingers in his mouth.
Warmth spreads through me, and I swallow past the melancholy my dreams always seem to leave behind, yet still, every night, I look forward to them.
To seeing his face and hearing his voice.
“Someone’s awake early,” I murmur, leaning down and lifting him into my arms.
He stretches, his little butt pooching out and tiny arms lifting above his head in the most adorable way.
There’s a soft knock on the door, and my brother’s face appears.
“Hey.” He slips inside to rub his hands over Deaton’s curly hair. “I thought I heard someone.”
I grin, allowing him to take my son in his arms, and I stand, grabbing what I need to get him bathed and laying out an outfit for him to wear today.
“I’m working from home the next couple of days. You can always leave him here with me, you know.”
I nod, frowning at my own wardrobe options—or lack thereof. Literally the only thing that fits that’s not part of my maternity donation pile are sweats and two pairs of leggings that are pretty much stretched thin at this point.
I sigh, digging a pair of fake jeans from the maternity pile and picking from the load of old T-shirts Mason gave me when nothing else would fit over my stomach. My stomach that’s now three months postpartum and still looks as swollen as it did the day Deaton was born. Well, give or take a few inches.
“I know, but the day care center is a perk of the internship.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to use it.”
“Yeah, but it makes me feel like I’m…I don’t know, doing things on my own, you know?”
Parker nods, making ridiculous faces at his nephew, who tries his best to reach out and grab him but hasn’t quite figured out his hand and eye coordination yet.
My phone buzzes on my nightstand, and I don’t have to look to know who it is.
It’s always the same person, every single morning at nearly the same exact time.
I ignore it for a moment, but Parker clears his throat.
“I take it you know Mason is calling?”
I nod, tossing a pair of socks beside my jeans and top, then reach over to grab my phone. “I do.”
“You gonna answer it?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
Parker lifts a brow. “’Cause you haven’t yet, and your cheeks turned pink when I mentioned whose name was on the screen.”
A chuckle escapes me, and I raise two brows right back, pressing the Answer and Speaker button all in one.
“Someone was about to get in some serious trouble here, Pretty Little.”
“Don’t you have class or something?” My brother scowls at the black screen.
Mason chuckles, and I quirk my lips to one side. “Don’t you have work or something, old man?”
Parker scoffs, crossing his arms.
“Course I have class,” Mason says. “I’m on my way. This is my pep talk time.”