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ONE

MILLIE

I don’t know it yet, but today is the day I get pregnant.

It stands to reason, seeing as the last twenty-four hours had absolutely sucked, that I was standing outside Grand Central Station in the pouring rain holding a suitcase, a duffel bag, and a rapidly disintegrating box filled with some of my most precious memories, while I figured out what to do.

In true New York style, the second the heavens opened, the cabs disappeared.

To top it all off, the most annoying human being I know had just pulled up to the curb, popped his trunk, and jumped out, totally oblivious that he was blocking the road with his giant Escalade. But that’s Tanner Simpson for you.

The cacophony of honking increased tenfold.

“There’s the most beautiful girl in the world.” Tanner grabbed my suitcase, flashed me one of his signature smiles, and opened the passenger door. “Mills, get in the car, it’s raining. ”

“Where’s Radley?” I asked, not moving from the spot where I’d transformed into a wet, bedraggled mess.

I’d been expecting my best friend to pick me up. I’d called her twenty minutes ago, and she said she would hurry. I needed her to come and get me. I needed to download the last twenty-four hours of my life to her because only she would understand.

Tanner wrestled the duffel bag off my shoulder and tossed it in the back of the car with the suitcase.

“She was in the middle of baking with Lux, so I volunteered. And she comes with Secret Service, so I saved everyone a ride. Plus, I wanted to come.” He grinned.

“Seriously, why aren’t you getting in the car? ”

I yanked my box out of his reach before he tried to take that from me too. There’s no way I was giving the box up, he’d have to pry it out of my cold, dead hands.

Tanner’s brows shot up. He placed one hand on the door frame, and stared at me with those blue, blue eyes of his.

You could get lost in them if you weren’t careful, therefore I was always careful.

A droplet of rain fell off his baseball cap and hit one of those sculpted cheekbones, before disappearing into the short stubble hiding a dangerous pair of dimples.

He might be the most annoying person I’d ever met, but he was easily the most handsome too. Top three most handsome, without a doubt, which only made it worse.

“Are you okay?”

I nodded, because if I opened my mouth to say yes, I knew I’d start crying. Maybe he wouldn’t notice, though; it was raining enough.

“Jeez, why’s everyone being so loud this morning?” He turned around, uncharacteristically snapping, but it worked to raise a little smile on me. And release some of the tension jammed in my throat.

“Because you’re blocking the road.”

Tanner frowned, like he’d only just realized he was stopped at an angle and cars were having to go around him. He was the cause of the noise.

“Oh. It was only two minutes, people need to calm down,” he replied, his head quirking. “Now, you wanna make it three, or are you getting in?”

I had a choice. I either stayed here, getting soaked through while he drove off with most of my stuff, or I sucked it up.

What’s the worst that could happen? He’d talk my ear off for twenty minutes.

I could cope with that if it meant I could get out of the rain.

Just. Ducking under his arm, I stepped up into the warm, dry car and Tanner slammed the door behind me.

As he jumped into the driver’s seat, a towel was tossed at me. “Here, I think you need this.”

“Thank you.”

He pulled out into the traffic as I went about drying myself, wringing out my hair and soaking up all the rain dripping down my neck.

It was as I ran it over my face that I caught the scent of the fabric softener; clean and fresh, mingled with that earthy indeterminable boyish odor.

It lingered in the air, it was the scent I always associated with Tanner, whether I wanted to or not.

“You can dry off properly in the apartment. We saved pancakes for you. Weren’t you supposed to come over way earlier? In fact, where have you been? And why do you have so much stuff with you?”

I should have said thank you. Thank you for coming to get me. Instead, I slowly placed the towel on the box resting atop my knees and burst into tears.

I knew Tanner had turned to me, even though I was staring down at the individual threads on the towel, trying and failing to suppress the sobs heaving from my chest. I could feel his eyes on me, just like I could always feel them.

“Mills? Are you crying?”

The car swerved right, causing more wrath from New York’s drivers, and screeched to a stop. Tanner hit the hazard lights and turned to face me.

“Millie, what’s wrong?”

“Noth…nothing.” I sobbed, my face buried in the towel, hoping Tanner would stop looking at me, but my luck had long run out already.

He let me cry for a minute, then carefully eased the towel from my grip, and before I knew what was happening, he’d shifted over the center console and pulled me into his chest, his very solid chest. If I’d been a betting woman, I’d have dropped large amounts of money on Tanner Simpson running in the opposite direction of a girl crying, yet here he was wrapped around me, palms soothing my wet hair while telling me things would be okay.

It only made me cry harder. The upheaval of the last twenty-four hours, the resurfacing of memories I’d forgotten, was too much to swallow.

I don’t know how long we were stopped at the side of the road, but it was enough for the windows to have steamed up and a policeman to come by and knock on the glass. As Tanner eased away from me and lowered the passenger side, the cop took one look at my face and walked away.

Swiping an arm under my nose, I took a big sniff and sat back. I dare not look in the mirror, though I’d been in too much of a hurry this morning to apply any makeup. I might be puffy, but at least I wasn’t also contending with panda eyes.

Taking the corner of the towel, Tanner wiped the tears from my cheeks. “Do you feel better?”

“A bit.” I shrugged, my eyes shifting over to him and the wet patch I’d left on his sweater. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he replied, reaching into the backseat and emerging with another sweater, which he handed to me. “Put this on. You’re soaked through, and I’m taking you for some food and coffee.”

I was about to tell him that I didn’t want food, when my stomach rumbled loudly. Tanner’s brows lifted, daring me to argue otherwise.

If it was a ploy to see me shirtless, it didn’t work.

He was too focused on getting back into the bumper-to-bumper traffic, wiper blades on full power, to notice me stripping off.

I slipped the sweater over my head and once more the heady scent of Tanner Simpson enveloped me to the point where the racing in my chest calmed a fraction.

“What are you hungry for? You want breakfast?”

I nodded. “Yeah, breakfast sounds good. Thank you.”

He turned to me with a wink. “You got it, I know just the place.”

Five minutes later, we’d pulled up outside a diner with its striped yellow awnings rolled up to protect them from the pouring rain. Once again, Tanner showed his total disregard for parking regulations by stopping in the entrance of an alleyway to the side.

“You wanna bring that with you?” He glanced down at the box on my lap. From the way his eyes widened, I had the feeling if I’d said yes, Tanner would carry it for me and guard it with his life. I was almost tempted to find out.

“No.” I shook my head, my mouth twitching with a smile.

“That’s better. Now, let’s go and get the best eggs and waffles New York has to offer. But don’t tell Lux.”

It was clear from the way Tanner was greeted, like a long-lost son, that he was a regular in this place. Within two minutes we were ushered to a table, a cup of steaming hot coffee was in front of us, and a guy called Giuseppe was bringing over the specials.

Tanner barely sipped his coffee before he leaned back, arms crossed, and pinned me with a curious look.

“First things first, why were you crying? Did someone make you cry?” he asked.

I needed my coffee far too urgently to answer immediately, waiting for the warmth of the caffeine to hit my veins. I also wasn’t sure I wanted to tell him.

“You’re not put off by me crying?”

“No, why would I be?”

“I dunno.” My shoulders lifted while I sipped again. I had two brothers, and I knew for a fact they’d run in the opposite direction if I’d burst into tears in front of them. After they’d told me to suck it up, that is. “You’re a guy. Guys don’t like girls crying.”

Tanner chuckled, ripped open two packets of sugar, and dumped the contents into his coffee. “Hey, you’ve met my sister.”

For the first time in twenty-four hours I genuinely grinned.

He had a point. Tanner’s sister Holiday was an actress—a real, A-list, red carpet–walking actress—the darling of Hollywood.

If the rain wasn’t pouring quite so much, causing minimal visibility, I could look out of the window and see a billboard of her somewhere modeling in the latest Gucci campaign, or her most recent movie.

I’d spent enough time with her to know that she was the sweetest human, while also a touch dramatic.

“Come on,” he pushed. “Tell me what’s wrong. I promise I’m a good listener. Is it to do with the box you were guarding with your life?”

Tanner Simpson, a good listener. They weren’t words I’d have put together. Tanner Simpson and playboy. Tanner Simpson and infuriating. Tanner Simpson and attention seeking. They all worked well together.