Page 27 of Crazy In Love (Love & War #2)

“No. We’re not.” I poke through my luggage and select fresh underwear. “Because healthy, consenting adults having casual sex are not together , thus, there is no breakup to be had. There’s just us, sneaking around every now and again, orgasming, and then moving on with our lives.”

“Interesting.”

“We’re just two busy, intelligent, sex-starved adults with free will, who live a really, really far distance from one another but will enjoy five-and-a-half weeks of that .

” I point an accusing finger toward the bathroom.

“More of that, please. At the end, you could probably drive me back to the airport and wish me good luck with the plane germs, and then it’s done.

Good terms, no mess, no fuss, and when I come back for Hazel’s first birthday, maybe we’ll pick up where we left off and destroy another shower. ”

“Sounds like you have it all planned out.”

“I do.” I snatch up a shirt and a pair of yoga pants that look kinda dressy when paired with a blouse.

Ish .

“The plan is to have no plan at all, except sex and orgasms and not stressing Alana out. That’s what I’m agreeing to.” I glance over my shoulder. “Deal?”

His lips curl into a smile, and his eyes glitter with something dark and dangerous. “Deal.”

“Great. This salad is shit, by the way.” I push it and the fancy diamond-decorated fork away, then I straighten out with my new clothes. “Let’s go so we can get back to Franky before it’s too late to feed him dinner.”

“You’re bossy, inside and out of the shower.

” He peels himself off the bed with a groan suited for an old man, then he wanders across the room, his well-hung dick lax between his legs.

Unhurried, he stops behind me and drags my hair off my shoulder, before pressing a chaste kiss to the base of my neck.

“Even if you didn’t want to go to my place, we have to. My clothes and boots are wet.”

“Sounds like you lack impulse control and a little button in the back of your brain that tells you to take your clothes off before you climb into the shower.”

He grabs my ass and squeezes it in his broad, strong hand. “Bend over and show me that target, just like you did earlier, and I’ll always choose impulse over sensibility. By that point, my dick is doing all the thinking, and even then, it’s not thinking about laundry.”

“You’re needlessly horny.” I step into my fresh underwear, pulling lace along my legs and up to sit on my hips.

Then I work on my pants. “You’re hot. You’re successful.

You’re even kinda rich, which means you can buy an hour of a woman’s time.

Is there a reason you act like you haven’t been laid in a year? ”

“Dunno. Something about quality over quantity.” He reaches around me and cups my boobs, chuckling when I drop my head back and meet his eyes. “Just holding them up for you. I like to be helpful when I can.”

“Uh-huh.” I smack his hands away and slide my arms into the straps of my bra. “Where can we get fast food in this shithole town? I haven’t seen a single drive-thru in all the time I’ve been here.”

“My house.” He leans around and kisses my cheek. “I’ll whip something up while you’re in the shower. If you put your shoes on real quick, you can be sitting down to a meal fifteen minutes from now.”

My stomach tingles, and my legs shake. My entire soul quivers at the knowledge of what Christian Watkins can do to my body.

But I have a full belly and an encore performance playing on repeat in the front of my mind, but more than that, I have a responsibility to Franky and sheer determination not to let Alana know the craziness I’ve stepped into.

So I walk ahead of Chris into the hospital and pause by the locked doors so he can punch in the code to gain us entry into the inner sanctum.

“You smell nice.” He walks a little too close for comfort, his chest brushing my back and his deodorant hitting my lungs for added impact. “You smell like my body wash now.”

“I hope it’s not too obvious.” I paste on a fake smile and continue forward, only to stop again at the semi-familiar face that brightens when his eyes lift to ours.

“Ollie.” Chris steps around me and pulls his friend in for a back-slapping hug. “I’m glad I caught you before you clocked out for the day.”

“Clocked out?” He sets his hands on his hips. “Dude, I didn’t even clock in yet. Or out. Or in.” He shakes his head. “I’ve lost touch with reality. What day is it?”

“Sunday. You delivered my baby niece today.”

“That was today?” Surprised, he scrubs his hands over his eyes. “Feels like a lifetime ago.”

“You did good.” Chris settles back on his heels, his shoulder brushing mine. “Thanks for taking care of them.”

“No problem. And I won’t even send them a bill, since I kinda screwed up their lives once already.” Delirious, he brings his gaze across to mine. “Fox, right?”

“Right.” I accept his hand and hold on to his jerky, almost painful shake. “Fox Tatum. We met at Alana’s mom’s funeral.”

“Yeah, I remember. Good to see you again.” He releases me and yawns. “I’m just finishing up my charts, then I was planning to head in and see them. Nurses say the baby is doing well.”

“We’ve been out the last couple of hours,” Chris murmurs. “But I got a bunch of time with her this morning. Healthy as a horse, chunky enough to boast extra chins, and Alana looked good, too. She looked better than Tommy.”

Ollie snorts. “That’s ‘cos Tommy was freaking the hell out and would’ve ended up with a concussion if I wasn’t so busy catching his baby.” He looks at me. “Was Chris as ridiculous on your watch? Because I met a new Tommy last night, and I’m pretty sure I wanna put him in a ditch because of it.”

“I wasn’t acting like?—”

“Total whine-fest,” I cut in. “He was pacing and panicking. Chewing his nails and eating his dinner with his hands. I had higher hopes for Tommy, seeing as how he was right here with Alana, and, well…” I scrunch my nose. “He’s not Chris.”

“Pacing is allowed! Pacing is a completely reasonable reaction to worry.”

“Figured.” Ollie runs a hand over his stubbled chin. “Kinda cute how Chris thinks he’s on Franky duty, when really, you’re on Chris and Franky duty.”

“Dude!”

“We know what’s really up,” I snicker. “But I’m told saying so out loud hurts feelings .”

“Fuck this.” Chris grabs my wrist and stomps past his friend. “If I’m going to be insulted, I’d rather take it while holding my niece.” But then he stops and spins, waiting for Ollie’s dazed eyes to come to his. “You didn’t screw anyone’s lives up, by the way. Stop with the shit.”

“Pretty sure I did,” he yawns. “I’m the reason Tommy left her that night. I’m the reason that prick got access and did the things he did. And then I dared to lecture her about leaving?” Disgusted, he shakes his head. “Jesus. Could I be more of a cock?”

“You didn’t hurt her.” I drag myself free of Chris’ tight grip, and meander back to stand in front of Ollie.

He’s taller than me by several inches, muscular like Tommy and Chris, but he comes with the added bonus of no sleep since…

the night before last. “I knew her after Plainview. I met the girl who ran away from this mess. The one who needed to find the good in humanity again.”

“Don’t. Please,” he groans. “I don’t wanna?—”

“I had her for ten years, which means I’d met you all long before we ever came together in the same space. She told me about Tommy. And Chris. Raquel. Grady,” I sneer. “The feral pig bastard.”

“Deserves worse than he got,” he growls. “Deserves so much worse.”

“She told me about you, too, Ollie. The friend with two baby sisters he’d protect to the death.

She told me about the guy who was always overly empathetic and kind, and she cried, terrified you’d find out how everything came to be.

She knew you’d shoulder that blame, even though none of it was your fault. ”

“I was the key to what happened to her.” He runs his fingers through his hair, tugging the locks until they stand on end and glow under the hospital hallway fluorescents.

“She was assaulted, Fox, and a little baby boy was the result. If I’d behaved that night, or if I’d called literally anyone else, none of this would’ve happened. ”

“If you’d changed anything about that night, we wouldn’t have Franky.

” I gently pat his shoulder. “It sucks, I know. But we’re here now, and we wouldn’t trade that baby boy for anything.

If you’re struggling to overcome your guilt about all this, I suggest you talk to someone.

For your own mental health. Alana has never held a grudge, and I have no reason to lie to you about that.

Ask your sister,” I wink. “She knows I say what I mean, and I punish those who mess with my family.” I squeeze his muscular arm and wait for his tired eyes to come back to mine.

Doubt. Devastation. Hope, maybe. A tiny sliver of it.

Then I turn on my heels and wander straight past a watchful Chris. “I need to see my babies.” I cup my mouth and speak barely above regular volume. “Franklin Page? Aunty Fox is looking for you.”

Like I knew he would, he pokes his head out of Alana’s room and stares me down, his glasses perched on the end of his nose and his lips flattened into unimpressed lines.

Because I’m embarrassing him.

“In here.” He rolls his eyes and brushes my hand away. “Hazel’s sleeping. But Mom said we can make any noise we want ‘cos she’s not gonna wake up from it.”

“You were like that when you were a baby, too.” I set my hand on the back of his neck and walk him in, only to find the exact scene I’ve imagined for most of a year already.

I’m a romantic at heart, and living through Alana’s heartache for a decade left me wishing for better for her. So when I find Tommy laid out on Alana’s bed, his shirt gone, his baby girl resting on his chest, and Alana’s cheek on his shoulder, I feel like it was all worth it.