Page 48 of Penthouse Prince
Speak of the devil, my phone buzzes on my nightstand, and when I totter over like a newborn baby deer to check it, Lex’s name flashes on my screen, causing my stomach to squeeze into a tight little ball.
Gosh, I’m so lame. One unexpected round of sexy time on the couch, and suddenly I’m acting as giddy as I did back in high school. But all that giddiness turns into panic when I read the two-word message he sent.
Bad news.
No, no, no. This can’t be happening. After all his failed attempts to ask me out, I finally said yes—and now he’s going to be the one to call it off?
Panic rises in my throat as I sit on the edge of my bed, typing out a string of question marks. Instead of a text back, my phone buzzes with an incoming call. It hardly vibrates once before I pick up.
“Hi, what’s wrong?”
My mind races in a thousand panic-driven directions. Is it Grier? Or his Mom? Or maybe he’s changed his mind and decided we’re too dangerous together after all.
There’s a muffled sigh from the other end of the line. “Grier’s sick,” he says, sounding defeated. “I’m so damn sorry. It’s nothing serious, just a runny nose and a cough, but with Mom’s weakened immune system, I can’t risk having her over there.”
A long sigh of relief leaks from my lips. Thank goodness. A case of the sniffles is a lot easier to deal with than the worst-case scenarios I was imagining.
“Maybe we can reschedule?” he says with the tiniest bit of hope in his voice. “She’ll probably be over this in a couple of days, maybe a week, tops. Rain check?”
My chest squeezes as I remember what he shared with me last night. How he hasn’t slept with anyone since before Grier was born. I may think my dating life is difficult, but he’s the one who’s responsible for another human being. Add taking care of his mom to that to-do list, and it’s no wonder his love life has been nonexistent. I’m not about to be just one more thing he has to juggle.
“Rain check declined,” I say firmly, kicking off my wedges and jumping to my feet. “Because we’re still having our date tonight.”
Lex pauses, and I can practically hear his brow furrowing through the phone. “Corrigan, I can’t just leave Grier on her own in—”
“So I’ll come over,” I say quickly, wedging my phone between my ear and my shoulder. “We’ll order takeout and watch a movie. Maybe we’ll actually even pay attention to this one.”
The line is quiet for a long moment, but when Lex eventually speaks up, his voice is hesitant. “You . . . you wouldn’t mind that?”
“Of course not. I think that sounds like a perfect first date. And to be honest, I really, really didn’t want to wear those heels tonight anyway.”
A groan rumbles low over the line. “Jesus, no fair. Now I’m picturing your legs in heels.”
“I hope for your sake Grier isn’t within earshot right now,” I say, scolding him with a smirk tugging at the edges of my lips.
“Don’t worry, she’s resting in her room,” he says with an easy laugh. “I’ll save the dirty talk for when you and I are alone.”
Once we hang up, I hang my dress back in my closet and change into denim cutoffs, a slouchy pink tee, and a pair of comfy sandals that my feet instantly thank me for. Then it’s a quick, familiar drive across town to Lex’s, where the door swings open before I even get a chance to ring the bell.
“Hey there, gorgeous.”
In dark-washed jeans and a fitted black tee that hugs his shoulders just right, Lex looks way too good for a man who’s been taking care of a sick two-year-old all day. In fact, I’d say he was date-night ready, if not for the toddler snot smeared on his shirt. And, of course, the grouchy-looking Grier propped on his hip.
“Can you say hi to Corrigan, love bug?” He bounces Grier a little to get her attention, and she manages half a smile and a tiny wiggle of her fingers. Then it’s right back to zombie mode, complete with a sad little whimper.
Poor thing.
“Looks like someone’s about ready for b-e-d.”
As if on cue, Grier sniffs twice, then yawns. Yep, it’s lights out for this one.
I follow Lex inside and straight up to Grier’s room, where the usual mess of toys is now joined by a full-blown kiddie pharmacy. There’s a big purple bottle of cough syrup on the dresser and, oddly, a box of fruit snacks next to it.
Lex must notice me eyeing them and quickly offers an explanation.
“She’ll only take the cough syrup if I give her those afterward.” He nods toward the fruit snacks, then shakes his head. “What can I say? The kid drives a hard bargain.”
