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He stiffened, his back muscles flexing. “It’s what I want now. I can see no other way.”
“Are—?” She tried to speak, but her voice broke off. After clearing her throat, she asked, “Are you still going to live here?”
She couldn’t believe her voice sounded so steady and unaffected. As if her heart wasn’t falling apart over the fact that she’d lost the one man who had always supported her. When had she gotten so good at hiding her feelings?
“I told you I wouldn’t leave you,” he said, his voice hard. “And I’m not a liar.”
And with that…he opened the door and left her room.
She flinched when the door clicked shut behind him. When she laid her cheek on her knees, she saw What to Expect When You’re Expecting sitting on her nightstand. When had he come in and put it there? And how had so many things gone so wrong, so fast?
She ached to go after him, but she didn’t move. Didn’t chase after him and tell him she wanted more out of life. Didn’t tell him she wanted him. Didn’t tell him she might even be falling in love with him. No matter how much she wanted to open up, she just couldn’t let go of the control she’d worked so hard to gain. So instead, she sat there and cried silent tears without chasing him down and begging for forgiveness or love or anything.
And she hated herself for it.
Chapter Eleven
It had been four days since Garrett had told Kiersten he didn’t want to try a relationship with her. Four days of him acting as if he was her brother, instead of the father of her child. He greeted her every day. Was kind and caring and loving. He did nothing wrong. But he didn’t touch her. Didn’t look like he even wanted to touch her.
And it was killing her.
When she finally decided to try and put her heart on the line, he wised up and realized she was a hopeless case. He’d made it perfectly clear he was done with her. Had followed through on that promise. Lately, he had even been coming home late at night smelling like beer. Was he out picking up women? Had he already moved on from her?
Could she honestly blame him if he had?
The door opened and shut quietly. “I’m home,” Garrett called out.
Kiersten looked at the clock. It was only seven o’clock. He hadn’t been coming home from the bar until after ten lately. She tensed and smoothed her hair. She was wearing baggy sweats and a frizzy ponytail without a stitch of makeup on her face. Go figure. “I’m in the kitchen.”
He came in carrying grocery bags. After a quick glance around the room, he asked, “Where’s Chris?”
“At Brianna’s house. Did you bring home the milk?”
“Yeah, and I got something else, too,” he said. “The other day, you were complaining about the baby wanting some ice cream. So I got your favorite.”
She pursed her lips, salivating at the mere thought of ice cream. “How do you know my favorite?”
“Do I look like an idiot?” He cleared his throat. “Never mind. Don’t answer that. But we’ve been friends long enough for me to know what you like.”
“I know yours, too,” she said, nudging him with her elbow. “Vanilla with hot fudge and bright, unmanly rainbow sprinkles.”
He flushed and pulled out a container, waving it under her nose. “You mean, like these?”
“Mmm hmm,” she managed, laughing. “Like those.”
Her stomach growled when he took the ice cream out of the bag and his mouth twitched. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen his smile. She missed it almost as much as she missed him. “Wanna skip dinner and go right to dessert?”
Her insides clenched, and her gaze involuntarily dropped to his mouth. Dessert brought something entirely different from ice cream to mind. Her body remembered his touch all too well, and she ached for him in more ways than one. When she met his eyes, she felt unable to disguise the pure need taking over her body.
His eyes darkened and he stepped back, his nostrils flaring. “Kiersten?”
“Huh?” She snapped herself back to reality, taken aback by how easily she almost forgot his new aversion to her. “Er, nah. Let’s eat and then have some ice cream. Better for the baby. What do you want for dinner? I could make ravioli if you want.”
Garrett gripped the ice cream, his knuckles white. He backed even farther away from her, his face pale. “Oh, you know what? I forgot that I have a basketball game with Mike and the boys, and then we’re hitting the bar. I’ll have to eat some later.”
After she was asleep, no doubt. That way he wouldn’t have to be next to her. Kiersten hesitated and reached out to grab his shoulder. “You don’t have to keep leaving. I can—”
“I’m not leaving because of you.” He gently moved out of her hold, his eyes lowered. “I have a game, and then we’re going out.”
