Page 72 of Fourth and Long

“Amber hasn’t told him yet. I guess she’ll tell him eventually. Teddy isn’t stupid. He’ll realize the baby is his even if she tries to avoid telling him.”

“Wait a second. The baby’s father is Teddy Lance?” I try not to shriek. Amber Hope and Teddy Lance having a baby together is…I can’t even think of an appropriate analogy.

He nods. “That bastard. I told him to leave her alone.”

“When?” It’s hard to believe he spoke to Teddy Lance. It’s easy to forget that he’s a celebrity.

“At the Grammys.” He tangles his hands through his hair. “He was sniffing around, begging me to help him rendezvous with Amber. I didn’t let him because she didn’t want to see him.”

“No wonder she didn’t want to see him.”

His eyes narrow. “Son of a bitch. Paris. That must be why he asked me to pass along his apology.” He yanks his phone out of his pocket. “I need to call Amber back.”

He goes back into the main room to make the call, so I get dressed and blow out my hair.

“So?” I ask as soon as he gets off the phone.

He flops back on the sofa. “She refuses to tell Teddy, at least for now.”

“What does she think is going to happen if she tells him?”

He shrugs as he draws me forward. “If I had to guess, I’d say she’s worried she’ll try again with Teddy for the sake of the baby.”

“That would be bad?”

“Definitely. Theirs was not an epic love story. If they hadn’t written those songs, they wouldn’t have lasted as long as they did. Before he cheated on her, I liked him well enough, but I never thought he was right for Amber. She loves the spotlight, but she’s never embraced the lifestyle like he has.”

“She can’t keep a baby a secret forever.”

He rubs a hand down his face. “I know. If she hasn’t told him by the time the news breaks, I’ll have to deny the rumors and hope people believe me.”

No one will believe him. Slater plus Amber are almost as juicy as Teddy plus Amber.

“I’m sorry,” I say as I snuggle into his chest and inhale deeply.

He nuzzles my hair. “Are you sniffing me?”

“Absolutely. You smell delicious.”

He pulls me tighter against me. “I haven’t showered.”

It doesn’t matter that he smells like a man who just spent two hours at the gym. The smell of sweat and Slater is heady. I pull back—just enough to find his lips.

The moan that rumbles through me as our lips meld together is more than simply satisfaction.

It’s happiness.

TWENTY-TWO

ELLIE

Slater and I don’t go places together.

Not for a date. Or a cup of coffee. Instead, over the next couple of weeks, we spend countless hours in either my apartment or his.

Talking. Eating. Getting naked. All the good things in life.

I spend a lot of time not thinking about how many days we have left. It’s easy to live in the moment when we’re together. It’s harder when we’re not. Luckily, that doesn’t happen too often.