Page 33 of Spring Break With a Baby Daddy
I nod. “It was the safest way to get here.”
“I know.” Her eyes pop wide, and with a jerk she lets go of my shoulders, jumps back a couple of feet, and twists her hands together. “Sorry!”
I don’t know what she’s apologizing for or why she suddenly noticed how close we were, but I’m not about to let her apologize when she hasn’t done anything wrong.
“Nothing you need to be sorry for. I startled you awake. I should be the one to apologize.”
“I shouldn’t have fallen asleep. I don’t normally do that.” The scrunch of her brow shows her confusion.
“You were tired. It’s been a long…fuck.” I shove a hand through my hair. “It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours!”
“A bit more.”
“Still, I picked you up last night for our date and now you’ve moved in with me, we’re in Atlanta with a newborn who isn’t ours, and we’re getting married.”
“You’re right, it seems a lot to pack into one day.”
“Feels like we’ve been together a lifetime.”
At my words her head tips to the side and she studies me like I’ve seen her do when she’s digging into a subject she’s intrigued by.
I let her look for a few minutes before standing. “We should check on Cade. Get ready for bed.”
“Oh. You don’t want to watch…” she glances over her shoulder. “What were we watching?”
“Don’t know. You picked it.” And I was pleasantly surprised when I worked out she’d picked a romantic comedy. “You said you hadn’t seen it.”
“Hmm…” With a shake of her head, she turns back and smiles. “I haven’t and now I know why. It was obviously boring.”
Her reasoning might make her feel better than the thought of being so comfortable with me she fell asleep so I let it slide. “It’s not bad. Well, what I watched was all right. Not winning anyawards or anything but then I don’t remember the last time I sat and watched a movie, so who am I to judge how good this one is?”
As if she has some sixth sense, she tips her head toward the bedroom a second before Cade lets out a cry. With a smile, she says, “That’s our cue. I’ll get him, you get his bottle.”
My hope of spending more time alone with Vivi dissolves and I resign myself to sharing her with the boy we’ve taken on.
Should I be jealous of a newborn?
Fuck no.
Am I jealous of a newborn?
Fuck yes.
That might make me an asshole but I don’t care.
I’ve spent months trying to get her attention and now that I have it, I’m forced to share it.
“I’ll get his bottle and meet you in the bedroom,” I say to her back. She’s already out of the room before my final words leave my mouth.
I can’t tell if she’s rushing so Cade doesn’t get as upset as he did earlier today or if our closeness spooked her.
Reading her is hard and easy. She’s a contradiction I want to understand. Her social skills seem normal until you spend a lot of time with her. Then you notice the little things like the constant thinking, the way she watches others, studies them like she’s peeling back their layers to see what’s beneath.
I’ve caught her looking at me like that on a number of occasions, and I’m here for it. She can study me all she wants. As long as she lets me do the same.
Because working out Vivi, what she thinks, what makes her tick, has quickly become my life’s mission.
And I’m not above letting a baby help me do it.
