Page 39 of Won't Let Go
“You did not.”
He smirks, fucking smirks, like a goddamn model, and kisses my forehead. “Yeah, babe, I did. I love you. Everything about you. Hunter. Everything.”
“No. You do not. I’m too old, Josh.” Way too old. It’s one thing to do what we did, but this… nope… Not on the same playing field, let alone the same planet.
“No, you’re not. Ten years isn’t that big a difference. I can still put a baby in you, if that’s something we end up wanting.”
What?
A baby.
No. No. No.
When Josh won’t let me escape, I poke his stomach. “You… Ugh…This cannot be happening.”
“Please don’t be mad.”
I sputter at his audacity. “Don’t be mad? Don’t be mad? Are you fucking serious right now? We’re friends.”
“We’re more than that.”
“No. We aren’t.” We’re… I don’t know what… But marriage and kids?
Josh’s expression crumples. “Alright. That’s fair. I said too much. This is on me. I’m gonna go shower now. Ya know, wash the cum off my stomach, after I came, eating you out.” On a sigh, Josh gently rolls me onto my side of the bed before he sits on the edge. His back expands as he takes a deep breath, and I don’t know what to do. Slapping his knees, he pushes to stand.
“Josh.”
Shoulders hunched over, Josh shakes his head. “Nope. I understand. This is totally on me. I am not mad. But I do need to shower and clean up the living room. We’re gonna pretend this conversation never happened. Everything after the orgasms didn’t happen.”
“But they did.”
He shuffles to the door. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”
“You said you want to marry me.”
“Nope. I didn’t. I said no such thing. I’ll see ya in the morning, babe.” The stubborn asshole salutes me and disappears like we’re gonna pretend he didn’t just confess wanting to not only marry me but maybe put a baby in me.
Confused and flattered, a whole lot of everything else swirls through me as I find my phone and dial Loretta.
“Jade!”
“Hey, crazy lady. I need to talk to you, but I need you to have an open mind.”
“Is this about Josh?”
“Wait. How did you know it’s about Josh?”
“Oh. Um. I didn’t.”
“Loretta,” I grit.
“What?”
“Spill.”
“There’s nothing to spill. I’m just glad you called.”
“Liar. Now out with it.”
