Page 119 of This Wild Heart

Milicent stared at me from across her desk, and I shifted in my chair. Someone in the government should put her in charge of interrogation because a bead of sweat rolled down my back the longer she sat there, staring at me with those unblinking eyes.

I was ready to share any and all information just to make it stop. I’d hand her my fucking bank account info if it meant getting out of her office faster.

“Are you going to say something? Because you’re really freaking me out.”

After a long moment, she finally arched an eyebrow. “I think you’re full of shit.”

I sighed. “There are a few people who’d agree with you, but in this circumstance, I can assure you I’m not.”

Her mouth fell open. “I just … I don’t believe you. I wasthere. I watched you two.”

“Yeah, well, we were really good actors.”

Milicent crossed her arms. “No.”

“It’s … it’s not really a yes or no question,” I hedged.

She jabbed a finger in the air. “No one fakes chemistry like that. I have been around enough athletes in my life, and you’re usually shit at lying when you want someone.”

Somehow, I knew this would be worse than telling my family. Much, much worse.

“Milicent, it doesn’t matter whether you believe me or not. We got sick of lying to our families, and she went back home. It’s … it’s over.”

“And they know now?”

I nodded. “My mom does, at least. I haven’t made a point to call my sisters because they exhaust me to my core, and I have a feeling my mom’s punishing me by forcing me to do it. If that’s the case, she’s going to have to wait a little bit because I just don’t have it in me right now.”

Her eyes narrowed, and I almost cupped my hands between my legs, just in case something heavy on her desk went flying. “So tell your families the truth whenever you feel ready,” she said smoothly. “It’s not a good idea to make this part of official messaging. We’ll start with the kid once we get through the preseason because you’ll have some legal paperwork by that time.”

“Leo,” I interjected. “He has a name.”

“Right.” She tapped her fingers on the surface of her desk. “And who’s on babysitting duty with her gone?”

“Anya wasn’t the babysitter,” I ground out. “But my housekeeper was able to help. She’s narrowing down some nanny candidates this week.”

Milicent hummed. “It makes sense that Anya is helping her family right now with her mom’s injury, so just … keep your mouth shut to reporters and don’t go boinking someone else in public.”

“I wouldn’t.”

At my affronted tone, she rolled her eyes. “You married her in Vegas after one night of drinking, so forgive me for thinking you’d have a quick rebound rate.”

The thought of rebounding from anything made my stomach pitch uncomfortably. Even waking up without her in the house, having my coffee, eating breakfast, and going to bed knowing she wasn’t there all felt wrong.

“I won’t,” I ground out.

Her eyes held a scary, satisfied gleam. “Good. I liked her.”

I ran a hand through my hair. “Yeah, everyone did.”

“So did you,” she pointed out. “In case you forgot.”

“Thanks,” I said dryly. I hadn’t forgotten, but it was awfully kind of her to remind me.

Her face actually softened, just for a moment. “You’re juggling a lot, Parker. It might be good to talk about this with someone.”

It felt like a splinter had wedged itself in my lungs, causing discomfort with every breath. That splinter had a name, of course. But saying it … thinking it, hurt just a little too much.

I left her office without a word and tried to ignore that it was there at all.

---