There was one gummy bear left in the bag. I popped it in my mouth, and the next thing I knew, Brandon was clutching my face in his hand, throwing my head back and forth—as if I was a dog, and he’d caught me chewing on something I wasn’t supposed to be. He wedged a finger into my mouth, and I gagged, then laughed as the gummy bear came tumbling out into his hand.
THEN HE PUT IT IN HIS MOUTH AND ATE IT.
He practically kissed me.
“Ew!” I squealed. “That was half digested.”
He reached over, ruffled my hair, and said, “I don’t mind swapping spit, Spitfire.”
Whatever that meant. It made me blush, though.
Before he left, he told me Cora is being induced next week. I still can’t believe Brandon is going to be a dad. I know he’ll be an amazing one, though. He doesn’t seem to think he will. He said he doesn’t feel a connection with the baby at all. But I reassured him that his feelings are normal and the connection will most likely come with time.
He said if Cora allowed it, he would love to have me there in the hospital.
I’m still so touched. He wants me to be a part of the baby’s birth story.
Honored is an understatement.
Chapter 10
Evie
Brandon.Atfirst,Iassume I’m dreaming, and I almost open my covers and invite him into bed with me. But then the excruciating pain filters back into my consciousness, and I realize at once that I am not, in fact, dreaming, and Brandon reallywaslooming over my sleeping form like a lecherous creep.
Livid now, I spring into a sitting position. The sudden motion startles the muscles in my aching back. I suck in a sharp breath, hissing through clenched teeth when the muscles in my back begin to spasm.
“Evie?” I smell him before I realize he’s practically on top of me, his hands hovering uselessly around my body like frantic butterflies. The titillating scent of his woodsy aftershave assaults my senses like a slap to the face.
When the spasm subsids, I shove him away. “Get away from me!”
Frowning, he pulls back. “You need to see a doctor.”
I huff and smooth a hand down my messy mane, embarrassed about my appearance. I still haven’t showered. “No, what Ineedis for you to leave me alone.”
As if he hasn’t heard a word I’ve said, Brandon sits down on the edge of my bed like it’s the most natural thing in the world—and it both excites and irritates me. He is too comfortable in his own skin.
“Go home, Brandon.”
He tilts his head, bending to retrieve something from the floor. “Maybe I will.” My mood brightens when he produces a container of cookie dough ice cream on his open palm. He waves it beneath my nose, teasing me. Lifting a spoon withhis other hand, he smiles at the treat like it said something pleasant. My stomach flutters with anticipation when he turns his cheeky smile onto me. “But if I go, I’ll have to take this delicious ice cream with me.” He shrugs. “It’s up to you.”
My only response is a petulant scowl.
His expression turns thoughtful as he undoes the lid and dips the spoon into the ice cream like he hasn’t a care in the world that my mouth is watering and I haven’t eaten since last night. He extends the bite of melting ice cream out in front of him, gazing at it like he’s pondering the meaning of life as he rolls it this way and that on the utensil. It almost slides off the spoon at one point, and my stomach lets out a garble in protest of this sick game he’s playing.
He knows exactly what he’s doing.
“I can’t remember,” he muses. “Isn’t this your favorite flavor, Genevieve?” His gaze lifts to mine, and he stares directly into my soul as he slides the spoon into his mouth. His eyes light up, and then his head rocks back as if he’s in ecstasy, his dark, enviable curly lashes fluttering in pure delight.
I almost groan. It has been so long since I’ve had ice cream.
He licks his lips. “Yum.”
“Give it to me, Brandon.” I swipe for the spoon.
He pulls back, grinning deviously as he dips it into the ice cream again. “Only if you ask nicely.” When I don’t reply, his grin widens. “Was I right? Is it your favorite flavor, Spitfire?” He peers into the container and shakes his head. “It’s the perfect temperature, too. Not so warm that it’s melting, but not so cold that it would give you a brain freeze. It’sjustright.” He winks before popping another bite into his mouth.
My cheeks warm at the sight. It’s almost provocative, watching him enjoy it so much. “I seriously hate you.”
