“W-Wyatt,” she stutters out.

  I grip her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “That sounds awesome.”

  She turns to me, the colour gone from her face. “But you said you couldn’t survive without me.”

  I wave her off. “Ignore me. I’m dramatic. If this is something you want to do, go for it. Just make sure you have room for one more at your table, because I’m embarrassed to admit this, but I can’t cook for shit, and Eli is just as useless. Fucker burnt rice.”

  “I wondered what happened to my rice cooker.”

  “Eli didn’t listen to me when I told him how to use it.”

  “Hey,” he snaps. “That’s a lie.”

  I roll my eyes. “He’s too embarrassed to admit it,” I tell her, before rushing back to the subject at hand. “But I’m good, I promise.”

  “Actually, I was going to invite you to stay, but now that you’re pregnant, I guess you’ll be moving into Eli’s,” Wyatt points out.

  My jaw drops as I openly gape at Wyatt. I must be hearing things because there is no way he’s serious. “You are joking.”

  “No, I, um…” He glances at Eli in horror. “Um, maybe I should shut up.”

  “It would make sense. We could build the house so we’ve got our own privacy but meet in the middle.”

  “I have my own privacy now,” I remark.

  “Yeah, but that’s now. When the baby is born, we should be together. I mean, in the house. It makes sense. We are never going to find a house we can share without living on top of each other. This way, we could build to suit both of us.”

  “Eli, this is your home you’re talking about. Not mine,” I tell him softly. “I don’t want to start a fight with you, but how will that work if one of us starts up a relationship? Be realistic.”

  “But how can we co-parent apart?” he asks, and I hear the others slowly move away, giving us privacy. He takes a seat in Evie’s chair.

  “The same way thousands if not millions of other parents do it.”

  “But that’s shared custody. I don’t want that. I know this isn’t how either of us planned it, but it’s happening. And there’s no rule book to say it has to be in two different houses. Why can’t we do it together?”

  He doesn’t get it. I don’t love Eli. But I am coming to care for him. That’s as far as my feelings go—unless I’m horny, and then one look at him and I’m feeling everything. But I know myself enough to know I won’t handle seeing him day in, day out with other women. I’ll end up putting rat poison in their tea or some shit. And no lie, I’m not above petty shit like that. I’m vengeful.

  “Babe, you have to be realistic here. One day, you’re going to find a person who you want to settle down with, and I bet you that person isn’t expecting me at the dinner table. I mean, I’m a joy, but bitches can get jealous.”

  Something I can’t put my finger on flashes over his expression, but he masks it, glancing away. “Can you at least think this over? Think of this from my position. You’re asking too much from me.”

  “I’m not asking for anything,” I tell him.

  “Yes, you are. You’re asking me to be a part-time dad. You’re asking me to miss out on the first smiles, the late-night feeds, the nappy changes. You’re asking me to miss out on putting them down for a nap, or to walk into their room and read them a bedtime story. I want to be involved in it all. I don’t want to be the dad who sees the baby shower photos on the internet or gets told about the new items of clothing you got them or the new furniture you got for the nursery. I’m all in. And I mean it. I’d never ask you to give up any time with our baby. I’d never ask you to come on weekends, or force you to live without our child. And I won’t. But I also won’t stop fighting to have this. And to have it, I know it includes you. I’m good with that. Because if anyone can do this, we can, and I know it,” he tells me, banging his chest. “I know we can. We know what it’s like to lose a parent. We know the devastation it can cause. And yeah, other parents might work well apart, but we aren’t them. We don’t need to do what society tells us we should be doing.”

  “And if we meet anyone else?” I ask, still trying to absorb the rest. Because he’s not wrong. And hearing those painstaking words leave his mouth only stirs something inside of me. It’s unpleasant, and nauseating.

  “Then we cross that bridge if we ever come to it. But I need you to know, from the day I found out you were pregnant, you and our baby have been my only priority, and no matter what happens with us, you will always be my priority.”

  In the midst of this shattering news, he has somehow taken my hands in his. Neither of us pull away, both of us lost in a sea of words and emotions.

  Because no matter how I put this, he is right. Society dictates the baby lives with the mum and the dad has to follow along. And most are more than happy to let that be the case. I’ve yet to meet another guy who prioritises his kids over football or going out. My dad and Eli are clearly the exceptions.

  I should be happy I won’t be alone in this, but I can’t help the harrowing feeling inside my chest. It all sounds good with words, but once those words get put into action, it can go horribly wrong, and it’s whether he can handle the fall out. Heck, it’s whether I’ll be able to.

  “Can I think on this?”

  “Yes, that’s all I can ask. I know it seems like I’m pushing you into a corner, and I’m truly sorry, but I had to say it.”

  “Don’t be. You have a voice in this too, Eli. I’m sorry I never saw that sooner. But please understand; I’ve been independent most of my life. I don’t know how to do this, which is why I need time. I need to time to go over the possibilities and decide from there. Because as much as I agree that you have every right to have a voice, and that it took two of us to get here, I’m still human. I still need me. And I’m afraid I’ll lose that if I end up being the girl you knocked-up and moved in with you.”

  “I can live with that,” he tells me.

  Evie clears her throat. “Um, can I think on it too? I know we are practically living together already, but I also have to think over some things too.”

  “Evie,” I call out softly, and wait for her to turn to me before I continue. “Don’t say no because of me. I’m not going anywhere, no matter where you live. I promise.”

  She fiddles with her fingers. “Yeah, I know, but I just… I need time.”

  Wyatt wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him. “We have plenty of time. I’m good with whatever you decide.”

  She beams up at him. “Thank you.”

  “Yo, Eli, Jude is on the phone. He wants to know if you’ve got a team for the weekend.”

  “Um, tell him I’ll call him back,” Eli orders, pulling away from me. I glance in his direction to find him shifting in his seat.

  “He’s on the phone now. Just tell me,” Jaxon demands.

  “No, not yet, but I’m working on it,” Eli tells him, and Jaxon steps away, going back to his conversation.

  “What is that about?” I ask, nosey as fuck.

  “Nothing,” he tells me. “When do you have to leave?”

  “Soon,” I answer. “But stop evading my question.”

  “I’m not.”

  I laugh lightly. “You are.”

  Wyatt snorts. “He doesn’t want you to know he runs a non-profit charity for the needy, not the greedy.”

  “Please tell me that isn’t the name.”

  Eli grimaces. “No.”

  Wyatt’s laughter rumbles through the air. “It was, but then he got a cease and desist letter to remove it. He went with Raven Care in the end.”

  “Raven?”

  “Our family dog who died the year before our dad,” Eli admits.

  “What do you do?”

  “We give to the needy and not the greedy. Charity shops are no longer affordable. Someone’s hand-offs are now the same cost as new. We can’t rely on the government to help. Nine times out of ten, if someone needs help, they turn to their community. The government only care about themselves and what they can get. They forget who they are actually working for. So, while they cater to those who cheat the system, there are those out there who truly need some help. So that’s what I do.”

  I’m stumped. Never in a million years did I think Eli would run something so, so… phenomenal.

  “Eli, that’s incredible.”

  He shrugs like it means nothing. “Can we drop this now?”

  “No. I want to know what you need a team for.”

  He rubs the back of his neck. “I have a new shipment coming in. We have a guy, Harry, who goes around and collects the bags or appliances, from second-hand to brand new. We have a team go through all the second-hand items to see if they are useful to anyone.”

  “How do you know who needs what? And how do you know they aren’t the greedy?”

  “We visit. We have them fill in a form, telling us what they need and when they need it by.”

  “And what about the stuff you can’t use? You said you sort through the second-hand stuff to decide what to keep.”

  “We have someone take photos and post them into the group. We either have a collection day, or we deliver it.”

  “This is truly amazing. What else do you do that you aren’t telling me?”

  “Feeds and clothes the homeless, and has been trying to organise women products for the women’s aid shelters around the UK, and for those who need them,” Wyatt replies before Eli can answer.

  I’m seeing Eli in a new light. I knew he cared, but this… this is something else entirely. This isn’t work to gain the gratitude or the acclaim. This is someone who truly wants to help.

  “Let me help,” I demand.

  “What? No. I’ve got it covered,” he argues, his eyes bulging. “Plus, there’s a lot of heavy stuff and you can’t be lifting.

  “I’m free Saturday and Sunday to help go through the bags, but I mean with the women products.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I know a company that will love to help. I worked with them last year on a cheaper products for women campaign. They also wanted me to work with them to start my own care line. If I contact them about this, I know they’ll want to help.”

  “I’ve got money, Becca, but I can’t use it for this. It’s a non-profit organisation,” he tells me, frowning.

  I jab him between the eyes, straightening out the crease lines. “Leave it with me. You won’t have to spend a penny. They’ll happily donate. This is what they live for.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Duh. This is what I’m good at. I can have care baskets made up for every woman, for all ages, and you can distribute them free of charge. And if they don’t donate, I know sponsors who will happily agree to cover the costs. And before you argue, they come to me asking me for advice on where to put their money. What you’re doing is brilliant, and I bet it means a lot to all those people you’ve helped. I want to help too.”

  “It does,” he tells me, slowly. “Thank you.”

  I get to my feet, heading over to his desk to grab my bag and laptop. “Then it’s settled. I’ll call them later tonight.”

  “Um, what just happened?” he asks, getting to his feet as I finish gathering my stuff.

  Evie chuckles under her breath. “You just got Rebecca James in business form,” she tells him.

  I pat his chest. “It’s okay. I do this to most men in meetings.”

  “This wasn’t a meeting,” he points out.

  I lean up, kissing the corner of his mouth. “See you later, babe.”

  He comes unglued, grabbing his keys off his desk. “Wait, do you need me to take you?”

  “No, I’m taking Evie’s car,” I tell him, heading for the door. I pause, turning to him with a grin on my face. “Oh, and Christian Bale made the better Batman.”

  I hear a ruckus as I close the door behind me, grinning wider when I hear him begin to rant in denial.

  I take the first step down, freezing when it hits me.

  I kissed him.

  I fucking kissed him.

  “Oh, fucking hell!”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Rebecca

  Kissing Eli was a mistake. A huge mistake of epic proportions. From lying in bed in his warm embrace, to him making gooey eyes at me, and then us almost kissing, to me then actually kissing him; I fucked up. I crossed lines that shouldn’t have been crossed. I couldn’t help myself.

  It’s like waking up and the first thing you do is reach for your phone. It’s like doing your makeup and reaching for the lotion first. It came naturally, like something I had been doing for years. And it’s only been a few weeks. In those weeks, he has done something I swore I’d never let a man do. He got inside. He somehow managed to knock down the wall I built around my heart. He did it slowly as each day passed, and each moment went by so I wouldn’t notice.

  So technically, me kissing him is his fault.

  That’s the story and I’m sticking to it.

  And then there’s this moving in malarkey. I understand his reasoning, agree with it wholeheartedly. The question is: can I do it? Can I move in with a guy who makes me wet with a look, and combust with a touch? Can I do that to myself? Can I live with a guy I have all these sexual feelings for and keep things platonic?

  I have no clue. Because the longer I’m around him, the more I want to straddle his thighs and ride him.

  “Earth to Rebecca,” Camilla sings, clicking her fingers in my face.

  I snap out of it and turn to the beautiful stage manager for Fashion Magazine. We have just finished up with today’s shoot, and apparently, I got lost in my own head while clearing up my things.

  “I’m sorry. I’m in a world of my own. What did you say?”

  She cradles her ever-growing belly. Her pregnancy must be coming close to an end as my last shoot with her was five months ago, and although smaller, she still had a clear, rounded bump.

  “I heard through the grapevine you lost your contract with Naomi’s firm. You doing okay?”

  “I promise, no matter what you’ve heard, that isn’t me. I’m always on time, and I’m never a no-show.”

  She places her hand on my arm. “Calm your horses. I’m not here to berate you. I’m here to ask if you’re okay. I’ve heard other rumours that you’re pregnant, and wondered if that was why?”

  I close my eyes for a moment, taking in a calming breath. “I am, but I’m not telling anyone just yet. I’m around the twelve-week mark. But I promise, what happened with Naomi’s shoot had nothing to do with the pregnancy. Someone hacked my phone and changed all my appointments around. They even had half my emails, amongst other things, forwarded to another device.”

  “I promise I won’t say anything. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you,” I breathe out, relaxing.

  “And, honey, I’m so sorry that’s happened to you. It sounds awful. Do you have it all sorted now?”

  “Hopefully, but the damage has already been done. I understand Naomi firing me. She can’t afford to have models not showing up. I just wish someone would have listened to my reasons.”

  “Yeah, I get that. What are you going to do now?”

  I grimace. “Well, with the pregnancy, I’m going to finish up these contracts whilst I can, but then, I don’t know. It’s not like I can get maternity leave. But I do have some collab work in the mix, so that should give me something to do.”

  “Well, actually, I have a proposition for you. Momma Care’s agency want us to shoot their new maternity line. There’s nightwear, loungewear, and going out wear. It’s in around four months, which will work out perfectly since you will be showing by then.”

  I did not expect that.

  “I’d love to. Can you email the contract and I’ll look over it?”

  “Of course. And if I hear of anything else coming up, would you like me to pass it on?”

  “Please. I never even thought of pregnancy shoots.”

  She waves me off. “They normally just have artificial stomachs, but the agency has requested real bumps, with real mums, so they can show their line in the best way possible. There’s a two-day run-through of the catwalk for real viewing. Will you be up for that?”

  “Yes,” I reply.

  The catwalks can take hours, if not days, to run through. It’s so when customers click on the item, they can view the clothing in real time as such. It gives customers a better detail of what the outfit looks like and the stretch of the material. I’ve done a few, and although long, they can be enjoyable.

  “Good. I’ll have those contracts sent right over to you. In the meantime, if you need anything, please, don’t hesitate to ask.”

  “I won’t,” I tell her, grabbing my bag. “And good luck with the pregnancy.”

  “Thank you. Just a few more weeks, then I’ll finally get to meet the little guy.”

  “I’m happy for you.”

  Her smile is radiant as she pushes her red hair over her shoulder. “It won’t be long until you’ll be saying the same thing. It flies by. It’s only the last few weeks that seem to drag.”

  My shoulders shake from laughter. “I’ve heard that from one or two people.”

  “I bet,” she teases. “Get going. I’ll see you at the next shoot. Take care.”

  “You too,” I tell her, grabbing my keys. I head out of the building, and the minute I get outside, heat blasts me in the face. I take my cardigan off, shoving it in my bag as I head to my car.

  Having someone believe me about my phone has taken a weight off my shoulders. I’ve been so worried I’ll lose more work.

  As I slide into the driver’s seat, Black crosses my mind. It reminds me that today is the day he has an appointment not far from here. I glance at my dashboard, seeing it’s nearly time for it.

  A part of me wants to leave it, to heed Eli’s warning, but I only promised to stay away from Black. I’m not going there to confront him.

  Maybe I can go and just find out where it is he’s going. Looking isn’t going to hurt. Deciding to go, I put in the address on the sat nav and put the car into drive, heading towards my destination.

  Ten minutes later, I pull up onto the road, seeing nothing but old buildings and run-down businesses.