Page 58 of Attached At Heart
She waved it off, but the flush working its way up her neck had me more than curious.
I watched her closely.
She ignored me, keeping her phone tucked between her legs.
I didn’t dare try to look at it.
I should mind my own business, after all.
And not be looking between her legs.
Or thinking about things between her legs.
Or thinking about her at all, really.
“He asked if we were finally dating,” she blurted out before shrugging and clearing her throat. “Well, that was the gist of it anyway.”
I felt a grin tug on the corner of my mouth, and I was trying desperately to resist it. Delaney didn’t need to know how I felt about her brother’s question. “Had a little more flair to it, did it?”
I always liked Bryan.
“You could, uh, say that.”
I laughed, wanting to pry more. But I could tell something about it had embarrassed her, so I didn’t. Instead, I asked, “You haven’t told him about the marriage?”
Delaney shook her head. “I haven’t told my mom yet, to be honest. I want things settled with my grandparents’ executor so she can’t meddle. And I won’t ask Bry to lie for me or keep that from her.”
“You think your mom will try to mess things up?”
“I know she will,” Delaney said with certainty.
“I’m not good enough for the upper crust?”
I might come from a family of doctors, developers, and professional athletes, but I knew I had nothing on the elitism of Delaney’s background.
“It’s not even that,” Delaney insisted, and I could tell she wasn’t just saying that to make me feel better. “She wants the money, so I’m sure she’ll try to find a way to get it.”
“Didn’t your parents also inherit something when your grandparents passed?”
“They did.” She pursed her lips with annoyance. “But it’s never enough, is it? Frankly, I wonder if they’re in a bad spot. I think my mom got a little too carried away with her spending, and my dad’s investments aren’t making as much money as they used to. But I think they’re trying to hide it because it would be the end of them socially if they did something wild like noticeably cut back on their lifestyle choices.”
I frowned, not liking the sound of that. People who were used to having money didn’t do well when that money was taken away from them. “Is Bryan still doing okay living with them?”
“I think so,” Delaney said, but the words fell from her mouth slowly, a clear demonstration that she wasn’t entirely sure. She started waving the makeshift fan in front of her face again, more vigorously this time.
“I need to visit soon so I can assess everything better. But he seems happy whenever I talk to him. I will say that my parents have connected him with a lot of excellent programs that will support him as he moves into more competitive job opportunities, and Makayla’s there, too. Otherwise, I’d be thinking more seriously about if he should move in with me instead. At least until he felt comfortable living independently or in a supported-living arrangement. Because as of last summer, heisofficially an adult, and I think he can absolutely do that if he wants to. I mean?—”
She gave me a sheepish look, like she forgot that we were married. I couldn’t blame her for that, not really. “Obviously,wewould have to rethink our living arrangements if that happened, but I don’t think it will anytime soon.”
“We would make it work,” I said without thinking twice. “If it came to that, if you thought it was best for Bryan to be with you, we’d make it work, Delaney. Nothing to rethink.”
I’d thought about it before. Of course I’d considered how a future with Delaney would involve Bryan to some extent, and I had absolutely no problem with that. If it meant we’d need to upgrade to a bigger apartment or find a house that would be better suited until our fake marriage was called off, I didn’t care. We’d make it work.
“I think he’s doing well where he is, but maybe I’ll ask him.” She looked down at her hands, fiddling with her thumbs. “He can make his own decisions, of course. I just, you know, want what’s best for him.”
“I know you do.”
She gave another little nod of acknowledgment and then crossed her ankles, jiggling both of her feet impatiently. The movement reminded me of something I’d meant to ask her before our flight. Preferably before we’d left the apartment, but today had been more hectic than I’d expected, and after she’d retreated to her room last night, I couldn’t risk talking to her again. For the sake of my dick, I’d needed a break from being in her presence. I thought if I took the night off from thinking of her or talking to her or breathing in her air, I might survive this flight.
