Page 48

I’m barely holding back the fury that’s boiling my veins. My head might explode, my brain is so damn hot.

Cara sniffs and her entire body is trembling in my hold. Fuck them for making her cry.

“Just go,” she says, sniffing again and wiping her cheeks. Her parents barely spare her a glance. “Just go. Perhaps once you’ve let this news settle, we can discuss it further.”

“Yes,” her mother says, glancing at the dainty and elegant Rolex on her wrist. “Let’s do that. We really must go.”

“Do the right thing,” her dad says, and they turn, her mother’s dress swirling in a cloud of shimmering black at her feet as they leave, closing the door behind him.

“Funny,” Cara chokes out. “I thought I was.”

She turns into my chest, cries, and I wrap her tightly in my arms, resisting the urge to slam both of their stuck-up faces into a wall until they see sense.

Chapter 17

Cara

“I ordered pizza. Should be here in thirty minutes.”

“Thanks.” I’m in absolutely no mood to eat.

Braxton sits down on the couch next to me and hands me a bottled water. Reluctantly, I remove my hand from where I’ve been resting it on Lucy’s head, which she has perched on my lap, and take the water. I have no idea how long I’ve sat here, curled in a ball on the corner of his couch, staring out the windows at the darkened view of Portland, but it’s been long enough the sun is now long gone and the skyline is dotted with lights from buildings and cars and a few boats on the river.

I’ve barely paid attention to Braxton moving around his condo, but I’ve registered the sounds of him making multiple trips in and out and the sound of my luggage clunking through the space as he takes it somewhere.

At some point, he took Lucy on a walk and when he brought her back in, she ran to me, licked my face, and settled in her spot on the floor in front of me, peering up at me with sad lonely puppy dog eyes that must be a mirror image of what is in my own.

My parents really, truly suck, and it sucks more that they’re the only parents I have.

Who treats someone horribly and nastily? I still can’t fathom everything they spewed tonight and how horrifically embarrassing it is that not only did Braxton witness it, but he was the object of so much of their trash.

I’ve been painfully reminded how little my parents truly care about me.

“It’s not like I expected a ticker-tape parade or anything,” I say aloud, more to myself than Braxton, who’s sitting next to me. His arm is draped over the back of the couch, his hand fiddling with my hair on my shoulder.

His presence is relaxing despite his lack of response. He’s angry, that was evident from the moment they left and he swept me into his car, mumbling and cursing, maneuvering through the streets of Portland like he was leading a high-speed chase.

“I mean,” I continue, not even knowing why I’m bothering, “I didn’t expect excitement and for my mom to begin planning a baby shower or anything of the sort. And I’ve obviously been avoiding telling them, but at no point in time did I think it would go like that.”

“Perhaps you took them by surprise. They did show up at your apartment worried about you.”

I huff a laugh and twist so I can look into his eyes. Eyes so dark even he can’t hide the taste of his lie. “Cute.” I smile for the first time in hours. “It’s cute you’d give them that much credit.”

“Who’s Dr. Sherman?”

“My dad’s best friend. In a perfect world, intheirperfect world, I’d marry his son, Graham. Miles Sherman and my dad went to prep school together. He’s also the CFO of the board at Portland General. Doesn’t make sense how he even saw my name as a patient, but I have no doubt he knows exactly why I was there. It’s only slightly impressive he didn’t tell my parents everything and spill the beans.”

Braxton is silent, although his jaw is working, telling me has plenty to say, but I don’t care. I don’t want to hear it and I don’t want to talk about it.

Today has been exhausting. I rest my head back on his arm, settling in to him as his arm wraps around my shoulders and he holds me against him. Closing my eyes, I inhale the rich scent of him, and blow out a long, calming breath. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I just want to forget about everything that’s happened so far today.”

Even as I say it, I think of Stella and the words she hurled at me. I haven’t told Braxton and I have no desire to. She’s important to him and she might be right. I might be absolutely no good for Braxton, but it has nothing to do with where—or who—I came from. It has much more to do with the fact I’ve essentially saddled him with a family and a child long before either of us wanted it.

“I don’t want to forget everything about today,” Braxton says, and even through my closed lids I can tell he’s smiling. He has that teasing tone in his voice he uses when something sexual is about to follow. “I really, really liked that kiss.”

“I knew you were going to say that.” I open my eyes, smiling, expecting to see him grinning down at me, but instead there’s a heat in his expression. He might be teasing, but he’s dead serious.

His hand slides to the back of my head and he dips his, tilting at the last moment before his lips press against mine. There’s nothing powerful about the kiss. It’s the exact opposite of when I slammed my mouth to his earlier and essentially staked my claim on him, but it’s so…so much better.