Page 31 of Anti-Hero (Kensingtons: The Next Generation #2)

I’ve felt jealous, seeing her with other guys, but I never had any real right to be. I still don’t, I guess. Yet, for the rest of our lives, we’ll share a kid. A bond that nothing—not time or distance or any other barrier—can break.

That’s daunting. But it’s also comforting. I like that we’ll have that in common.

I’d step up and take responsibility in this situation with anyone. But it would be straightforward. More … clinical. It’d be easy to focus exclusively on the baby. With Collins, my brain gets too muddled with her .

I’m going to pitch her moving in as practical, but a large part of it is selfish.

I want her here, with me, not across a bridge in Brooklyn.

And full honesty? It’s not entirely tied to the pregnancy.

If this were happening with another woman, I’d offer to rent her an apartment near me, not suggest she move into my home.

“Kit?” Collins is staring at me, hesitation written all over her face.

Which is when I realize my reaction was freezing in place. Who knows how long I’ve been standing here, silent, just looking at her? So much for acting casual and making her feel comfortable.

“Right.” I clear my throat. “I was checking to see if you wanted Parmesan on your pasta. Hard cheese is okay, right?”

“Uh, yeah. Parmesan is okay, and, yes, I’ll have some.”

“Great.” I glance past her, at the bed. “Also … I’m thinking of this room for the nursery.”

Collins spins to survey it. “This room? It’s huge .”

“This bedroom is smaller than the primary suite. And the rest of the guest rooms are upstairs. I should be close by, right?”

She gnaws on her bottom lip. “I guess you could add a crib in the corner?”

I laugh. “What? Monty, I’d get rid of all of this.

” I gesture toward the current furnishings.

“My kid isn’t sleeping in the corner. Plus, there needs to be room for toys and all the other baby shit.

A guy I went to school with, Pierce, has a sister who paints.

I was thinking of asking her to do a mural on that wall.

” I point toward the one the headboard is pushed up against.

“A mural. Wow.”

“Is that a bad idea?” I wonder.

“No, I think that’s a really nice idea. I just …” She glances around again, shaking her head. “This room is about the same size as my entire apartment.”

I seize the perfect opening. “So, move in with me.”

Her chin jerks in my direction. “ What ?”

Maybe I should have attempted a more gradual segue. Too late now.

“Move in with me,” I repeat.

Collins is already shaking her head. “No, I—Kit, that’s crazy!”

“What’s crazy about it? I can’t contribute much until you, you know, birth the kid, but I can do this much. And once Plum is born, we won’t have to shuttle him or her between here and Brooklyn. You haven’t even seen the upstairs. I’ve got plenty of space.”

“We talked about boundaries, Kit. Living together is not boundaries.”

I shrug a shoulder, attempting to act nonchalant. This is the exact response I expected. But I didn’t realize how much I wanted her to say yes until she said no.

“It doesn’t have to be a big deal, Collins. You moved in with Lili when you were eighteen, and she was a total stranger. ”

She clicks her tongue. “That was totally different, and you know it.”

“It doesn’t have to be. Pretend my apartment is a dorm and I’m your random roommate if it’ll make you more comfortable. You need more space, and I have space. It’s as simple as that.”

“Plum is going to wake up screaming in the middle of the night, you know. Your neighbors will hate us.”

“It’s a penthouse. I don’t have any neighbors. And I would hate missing the screaming.”

Collins snorts. “Yeah, right.”

She’s still waiting for me to cut and run. It erases all my self-doubt that I’m bringing this up too soon. I’m limited with how much attention I can show her at work. Here? She’s going to have a hard time missing my commitment, no matter how hard she tries to.

“Offer stands,” I state. “Come on. Dinner’s getting cold.”

“You said pasta?” she asks, perking up as we enter the kitchen.

“Yeah,” I reply. “Thought the carbs would help soak up the alcohol.”

She sticks her tongue out as she opens the container, spooning spaghetti with meatballs onto one of the plates I set out. “Hilarious.”

“Speaking of drinking, what do you want?” I fling open the fridge doors, doing a quick scan of the contents. “I’ve got?—”

“I’m good with water.”

“Sparkling or still?”

“Still’s fine, thanks.”

I nod and fill a glass. “Ice? Lemon wedge?”

Collins raises an eyebrow as she twirls some pasta. “Both, thanks. Was Edna wrong? Sounds like you do a lot of, uh, entertaining.”

“Not here. Flynn has crashed a few times, and Bash squatted most of the summer, but I prefer my privacy. This is the first place that’s all mine , not my parents’.

” I hesitate before adding, “I mean, I used money from my trust fund to buy it, so they contributed. I don’t make enough to cover a place like this myself. Not yet at least. But I picked it out.”

She nods, giving the kitchen a quick glance. “It’s nice.”

I snort. “Thanks, Monty.”

I don’t think many women would describe a sixty-five-million-dollar penthouse as nice , but it’s more complimentary than I would have expected from Collins.

Ostentatious or way too big or characterless would also apply. I mostly use this gourmet kitchen for reheating. No bachelor needs seven bedrooms. And I hired an interior decorator who made this place look like the glossy pages of a design catalog. Pretty to look at, but not very welcoming.

I’m excited to set up the nursery. It’ll be the first part of this place that will actually feel like a home.

“There’s plain pasta too,” I tell Collins as I set her water down beside her plate. “I wasn’t sure if sauce would sound good.”

“Thanks, Kit,” she says sincerely.

“No problem.” I fix my own food, then take the stool next to her at the counter.

Collins points her fork at the fridge. “What’s the story there?”

I glance at the playing card taped to the stainless steel. “ That is the playing card that Flynn snuck out of a casino in Vegas.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have an answer to that question.”

She scoffs softly, then twirls some spaghetti. “How was Vegas?”

“Boring,” I reply. “All the strip clubs were closed.”

“I’m serious. ”

“So am I. I went to every single one, just to make sure.”

She shakes her head, then takes a big bite of pasta.

“It was fine,” I tell her. “I’d been before. My aunt and uncle actually got married in Vegas. The first time at least, and then they had a more traditional ceremony.”

“ Oliver got married in Vegas?”

I chuckle. “Surprising, right? And look at what a great CEO he’s turned out to be. There’s hope for me yet.”

“I never said I thought you’d be a bad CEO.”

“Plenty of other people have. And are hoping Bash will end up being the one who’s next in line.”

“I’m not.”

I glance at her. “I’m sure he’d let you keep your job, Monty. Probably pay you more too.”

Collins rolls her eyes. “That’s not what I meant. Although this is probably a good time to tell you that I applied to a paralegal position yesterday.”

I stiffen. “I thought we’d discussed?—”

“We did discuss this. And we need to discuss it again. The clock’s ticking. I have a better shot at getting hired before I start showing. I checked, and I’m not legally required to disclose a pregnancy to a potential employer.”

“You’re not legally required to leave either. We did nothing wrong. You can stay, and then I’ll be there if?—”

“I don’t want to stay, Kit. Do I like working with—for—you?

Yeah. Do I like that you’re my boss? Not really.

The … other stuff was questionable enough.

But at least that happened before I started at the company.

Before either of us even knew I’d be starting.

Us working together during my entire pregnancy, with all the whispering?

I mean, yo u should have heard what—” She abruptly stops talking.

I lift an eyebrow. “I should have heard …”

She stabs a meatball with her fork. “They were talking about you at drinks earlier. Asking me questions … and stuff.”

“Questions about what?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she says, which only increases my curiosity. “The point is, people pay attention to you, and you know that they’re going to talk about your unmarried assistant getting knocked up. I don’t want to deal with that gossip, even if you’re willing to.”

Realistically, I know she’s right. And the attention isn’t something I necessarily want to deal with. But I’ve gotten used to having her as my assistant, to seeing her every day, and I’m panicked at the thought of losing that.

“Why are you applying to paralegal jobs? You should be looking for positions playing?—”

Collins is already shaking her head. “I can’t afford to focus on music. I was barely breaking even in Chicago, and my rent here is more. Not to mention the baby and all those expenses.”

I rub the back of my neck, trying to temper my frustration. “How many times are you going to make me say this, Monty? I. Am. A. Billionaire. The fact that you’re stressed about money is …” I search for a word that won’t offend her. “You don’t need to be stressed about money.”

Collins exhales. “I know how much money you have, Kit. And I’ll give a little on stuff for the baby, I promise.

You can pay for an expensive day care and the fancy private school and designer whatever—anything that’s truly important to you.

But it’s important to me that I be financially independent.

That I be able to support myself. I need you to respect that. ”

I nod. “I will.”

“Thank you. And for offering.”

I nod again. “Pearson’s the best law firm in the city. Nick Pearson is my godfather. I could give him a call. Mention you’re looking and see if he knows of any openings.”

And you’ll have a job offer an hour later .

I don’t say that last part—for obvious reasons. I admire Collins’s determination, even if it exasperates me. But I need her to let me do something , to help her.

She takes a sip of water. “Maybe. Let me try myself first, before you start pulling strings.”

I smile reluctantly. Busted.

While she’s being amenable, I decide to push my luck. “And promise me you’ll think about moving in. Actually consider it. Okay?”

She doesn’t hesitate as long this time. “Okay.”