Chapter Twenty-Two
Lauren’s whiskey-colored eyes were unreadable. “If you don’t want to be here, then leave.”
“It’s fine,” I said, though a muscle in my jaw ticked, directly contradicting my words.
It wasn’t fine. Nothing about my life at the moment was fine. I was still reeling from Mia’s surprise announcement. Still coming to terms with the fact that I might be a father. What if it was my baby? What would I do then?
I couldn’t even keep track of my phone, for Christ’s sake. Taking care of another human was…incomprehensible.
My mind swirled with questions. But one weighed on me more than the rest—what would Lauren think? How would she react?
“This way, please,” Vivian said, directing us to the windows overlooking the skyline.
I followed numbly, my feet carrying me along. A makeup person freshened Lauren up—though she was already so beautiful it made my chest ache. And then we were directed to stand in front of the large glass windows.
People buzzed around us, preparing the lighting, using a lint roller on my shoulders, dabbing at Lauren’s forehead. I could feel Lauren’s eyes on me, but I wouldn’t look at her. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. Because I didn’t know how to tell her about Mia or whether I even should. I didn’t know anything other than I needed Lauren, and I’d do anything to keep her.
The shutter of the camera clicked, but there was an unspoken tension that hung over the room.
“It reads very stiff. Maybe we should try something more…playful,” Vivian said.
“What’d you have in mind?” Lauren asked.
“Maybe you in the chair, legs draped over the side,” Vivian said, guiding her into position. “And Mr. Pruitt, let’s get you standing behind, hand on the back of the chair.”
“Hunter, please,” I said, shuddering at the reminder of my father.
I could only imagine what he’d think if he heard about Mia’s pregnancy. I wasn’t sure whether he’d force me to marry her or attempt to buy her silence. Either way, I cringed at the idea of him finding out. Though I cared less about his reaction than Lauren’s.
The camera shutter clicked, but Vivian’s arms were crossed over her chest, a frown marring her face. I just wanted to get this over with.
“Something’s still not right,” she said. “Why don’t you two try looking at each other?”
“I’m not sure—” Lauren said.
“You want to win, right?” I asked, careful to keep my voice low.
“Yes, but—”
“Then I suggest you do as she says.” I peered down at her, trying to decipher her expression. She was so angry, her eyes blazed with it.
I didn’t even realize the photographer was still clicking away until he said, “Yes. That’s good. Very good. Smoldering.”
After a couple shots, we were done, though the tension lingered. While the crew packed up and Lauren answered a few additional questions, I climbed the stairs to my office. I needed…space. I needed to think. Though it felt as if that’s all I’d been doing the past few days—thinking.
I paced the floor of my office, trying to sort it all out. I was lost in my thoughts until Riley ran past. I followed her, wondering where Lauren was.
I found Lauren in the bedroom, tossing a suitcase on the bed.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” She tossed some clothes into the bag. “I’m leaving.”
“Look,” I said. “I’m sorry about earlier. And I’m sorry I missed your calls.”
“It’s fine.” Despite her breezy tone, I didn’t buy it.
I strode over to her. “Will you stop for a second? Look at me.” I gripped her biceps. “Talk to me.”
