Page 32 of Anti-Hero (Kensingtons: The Next Generation #2)

Perry: Drinks on Friday?

I stare at the message from Perry, then glance at the drooping leaves of the fern I brought in to decorate my desk. The tips of the leaves are curled and browning.

I’ve watered it once a week since I bought it. Is that too often? Too infrequent? I honestly have no clue. Just like I have no idea what to say to Perry. He’s been politely persistent ever since I bailed on drinks, and I’m not sure why I keep making excuses to avoid rescheduling.

Yeah, I’m pregnant, but I’m also single . My life isn’t over. I can date and flirt and have fun. And I should do those things now—or at least soon, before my life’s latest complication becomes obvious.

I sigh, stand, and stretch.

There’s a big meeting happening with a bunch of important executives right now, so the hallway is quieter than usual as I head into the break room.

Margot’s rummaging in the fridge, her blonde hair braided back in a fancy twist that I’m instantly envious of.

Lately, a smooth ponytail is the most elaborate style I can manage.

“Hey.” Margot gives me a friendly smile when she spots me. “How are you?”

“Warm,” I say with a laugh. My sweater sleeves are shoved up to my elbows, but I’m still stifling.

Margot nods vigorously. “Right? They’re really cranking the heat. That, or we all turned into penguins over the summer.” She glances around, then takes a tentative step closer. “And how are you really ?”

“I’m better,” I reply. “Thanks for asking.”

All the women I went out for drinks with on Halloween came to my desk to check on me at different points the next day.

Stella apologized profusely. Even Aimee stopped by, despite the fact we’d never spoken before that night.

Cynically, I think her thoughtfulness might have had something to do with hoping to catch a glimpse of Kit, based on how many times she glanced at the door past my desk, but it was a nice gesture regardless.

I didn’t tell any of them why I’d freaked out so much though. Margot is the only one who knows the truth, aside from Kit and my family.

“Good.” Margot slips a folded piece of paper out of her pocket. “I was about to drop this off at your desk. My sister recommended this birthing class. And I assume you have a doctor already, but I put the number for her OB on there too, just in case.”

“Thank you,” I say, taking the slip from her. “I really appreciate it.”

“How far along are you? If you—if you don’t mind me asking.”

I don’t mind. It feels nice to have such a normal conversation about my pregnancy. The kind I might have if this had been planned.

“Thirteen weeks,” I answer. “He—or she—is the size of a kiwi.”

Margot smiles. “You think it’s a boy?”

“Yeah. The”—I lower my voice to a whisper because saying this word feels weird at work—“sperm determines the gender, and I picture him with a son for some reason.”

“You told your ex, then?” Margot asks sympathetically.

It takes me a few seconds to realize what she concluded. I completely forgot I’d mentioned Isaac to her during my Halloween freak-out. “Oh. My ex isn’t the father.”

When Margot’s eyes light up with interest, I decide I might have taken this confiding thing a little too far. “What? You’re seeing someone new?”

“Not exactly. It was a, uh, one-night stand.”

“What?” Margot leans closer, her voice lowering conspiratorially. “Does the guy know?”

I nod. “He knows.”

“Was he an ass about it?”

“No. He’s been … he’s been really amazing actually.”

“You like him,” Margot sings.

I shake my head rapidly. “No. No, I don’t. It was just sex, and now we’re co-parenting. Or we will be.”

“Tell that to the dreamy look on your face. ”

I don’t have a dreamy look on my face. I can’t have a dreamy look on my face. Can’t have feelings for Kit. And if I do have feelings for Kit, they’re just pregnancy hormones. Another unfortunate side effect of incubating his offspring.

“I’m considering dating someone else.”

Margot’s eyebrows rise. “Really?”

“Yeah. I met him at a party over the summer, and he was really nice. We were supposed to get drinks a couple of months ago, but I canceled, and he’s still asking to reschedule.”

“A couple of months, and you canceled? Wow. He’s super interested, then.”

“Maybe.” I worry my lower lip with my teeth. “I’m just not sure if I am.”

“That’s the point of dating, Collins. Get a drink with him and then decide if you’re interested.”

“I can’t drink, Margot.”

“Oh. Right. Suggest coffee, then? That’s even more casual.”

“Do I tell him why I can’t drink?”

“Definitely not. I would tell baby daddy you’re going out on a date with another guy though.”

I shake my head and laugh. “Don’t call him that.”

“Fine. What’s his name?”

On second thought … I dodge the question and ask, “Why would I tell him?”

“Because you can deny it all you want, but I think you like him. And men are simple creatures. If you want to know how he feels about you, let him know there’s another guy in the picture. And, bam , you’ll get your answer.”

“You’re ridiculous. ”

“I’m right . And if it doesn’t work out with either guy”—she taps the piece of paper I’m holding—“I’m available to assist. Maureen loved me.”

“Who’s Maureen?”

“The birthing instructor.”

“You took the class with your sister?”

“Uh-huh. Her boyfriend ran for the hills. Sounds like you picked a lot better.” Margot glances past me and swears under her breath. “Crap. Meeting’s done. I gotta go. Keep me posted!” She rushes into the hallway.

I fill a clean mug with cold water and head back toward my desk.

Kit’s standing right outside his office, talking to his father.

My steps slow as I watch Crew clap a hand on his son’s shoulder. Kit says something that makes Crew smile, and then they part ways. Kit heads into his office, and Crew turns in my direction.

Since I started working here, I’ve only attended one meeting where Kit’s father and uncle were present.

I’d met them both before, in more casual and chaotic circumstances, but that didn’t make me feel any more comfortable.

They’re both intimidating. The entire Kensington family is intimidating, honestly.

Kit’s the most approachable one out of the untouchable group.

Lili’s warm, but only once you get to know her.

And Kit’s brother, Bash, is more serious and stoic than his siblings.

At least he was two years ago, when I last saw him.

“Good afternoon,” Crew greets as he passes me.

“Good afternoon,” I echo, unable to tell if he recognizes me or is merely being polite.

Crew continues without another word, so I’m assuming the latter. Aside from our brief interactions at Lili’s graduation party and his in-laws’ patriotic bash two years ago, we haven’t spoken since Montgomery Hall. I’m unsurprised that he doesn’t recognize me.

I take a seat at my desk, dump half the mug’s contents on the fern, then decide to add the rest of the water. Unlock my phone and resume staring at Perry’s most recent text.

I’m still studying the screen when Kit’s door opens.

I glance toward the sound automatically, not expecting him to already be looking at me. When our eyes connect, there’s a silly cartwheel in my chest.

Please don’t let there be a dreamy look on my face , I pray.

“Hey,” he says, approaching my desk.

I clear my throat, wishing I’d stopped by the restroom on my way back to my desk. My ponytail probably isn’t that smooth still. “Hey. How’d the meeting go?”

Kit drums his fingers against the wood counter. “Good. Can you push the four p.m. call with Marshall to tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sure.” I scribble down a reminder on a blank Post-it. “Any time preference?”

“No. Whenever I’m free is fine.”

I nod. “Got it.”

I’m expecting him to head back into his office, but Kit doesn’t move. “You okay?”

I glance at my phone screen, then to the waterlogged fern. “I think my plant died.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Kit’s lips twitch as he glances at the wet brown leaves.

“You should look more concerned,” I inform him.

Another twitch. “Should I?”

“ Yes . If I can’t keep a fern alive, how am I supposed to take care of a … kiwi? ”

“You can’t compare ferns and kiwis. I’m not concerned.”

I scan his smooth expression, finding no trace of falsehood. Laugh self-consciously. “You’re a good liar.”

“Or I’ve never lied to you.” Kit holds my gaze for a few fraught seconds, then straightens and heads back into his office.

It would have been a lot faster for him to email me the meeting request.

I pick up my phone and finally text Perry back.

Collins: What about coffee on Saturday?