Page 51

“You don’t need to leave the kitchen to eat.”
I stopped myself from turning around. “Personal preference.”
“Your personal preference is to haul your bowl around the downstairs of Sebastian’s house?” Beck asked, and I could hear the smile in his voice. The taunt.
I headed to the atrium where Faith spent her days painting. The greenhouse-like glass roof provided gorgeous natural light and made for a happy place. You couldn’t be annoyed in a happy place like this.
Although if anyone could make that statement untrue it was Beck.
I sunk down on the plush couch and Beck took the seat beside me, the couch buckling under his weight.
“Tell me about Alice's mom.”
The words slipped out of me. By my calculations, Alice must have been born nine or ten months afterournight.
Had he met someone so quickly? Were they in love? Was it a one-night stand?
Pain flashed in those hazel eyes of his, before being smothered like the extinguishing of a candle. The spark vanquished before it could fully ignite.
“Jasmine. Her name is Jasmine.”
In moments like this I wish I still drank. It might take off some of the edge. But then I took some deep breaths as I nodded my head, urging him to continue.
Beck’s Adam’s apple bobbed, the charming, shit-eating smile he usually wore scrubbed from his face. “We slept together one night, and she got pregnant. She said she wasn't sure she was ready to be a parent and when she saw that I was, she decided to have Alice. She signed away parental rights immediately after birth. Alice is a hundred percent mine.”
A million follow-up questions sat on the tip of my tongue. One rose above the rest. “How long?”
Beck tilted his head.
“How long after us did you sleep with Jasmine? Or was it before us?”
Beck leaned forward, forearms on his thick thighs. “It was four days after us.”
I chuckled, but it held no mirth. “So you wrote my phone number in Sharpie on your arm just for fun and then ignored it? Was my number still on your skin when you decided to sleep with someone else?”
Fury flashed in those hazel eyes. “You gave me a dud number.”
I scoffed. “Oh, please.”
“You gave me a fake fucking number, Luna. Trust me, I called multiple times. You wanted nothing to do with me, so I moved on.” His tone was lethal.
“Rather quickly,” I damn near shouted. “And what's this bullshit about a fake number? The number I told you was real. I watched you write it down on your arm.”
He pointed to his chest. “I wrote it down verbatim.”
“Then you wrote it down wrong,” I nearly shouted.
Beck slid closer. “I wanted to see you again. I wanted more.”
I swallowed. “Then you should have called.”
He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Jesus Christ we aren't getting anywhere with this.”
“I waited for you to call. You didn't call.”
His jaw clenched. “I tried calling. Hell, I can still remember the number.”
Beck proceeded to rattle off the numbers, and they werealmostcorrect.