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“I thought I was so fucking cool, and adult, because I hung around adults all the time.” He shook his head, rolling his eyes at himself, “But I was still a kid. And I still just wanted my mom to love me and give me the time of day.”
“God, Leander, I’m so sorry—”
He waved my words away, so I stopped to let him talk.
“I’m just trying to explain,” he said. “I thought I was rebelling. I thought I was so grown up. I thought doing drugs and having sex with one of my older female producers even though I was just a teenager meant I was the shit. That I was proving anything other than what a dumb, selfish little fuck I was.”
He blew out a long breath, jaw still clenched. He was clearly furious at his younger self.
My stomach twisted. I’d seen so much predatory behavior and grooming of teen girls during my time in the industry, so many men called out for bad behavior. So I wasn’t shocked to see the reverse, as much as it sickened me.
“Hey.” I reached out and pushed some hair back from his forehead. He needed a haircut. “You were just a kid. You said so yourself.”
His gaze shot to mine. “I was still old enough to know better.”
I scoffed. “How? How old were you?”
His jaw went so hard it seemed in danger of shattering. I squeezed his hand again.
“Seventeen.”
“That’s child abuse!”
He shrugged.
“You were a kid! Give me the bitch’s name.” I was already reaching out for my phone, infuriated. “I’ll get her blacklisted.”
“She’s not in show business anymore. I saw to it once Gemini started blowing up.”
I breathed out, fury still bubbling underneath my skin. These boys. This fucking parasitic system had used and abused them since the time they were children. No one who was supposed to look out for them had. Everyone was just happy that the boys were able to keep producing on screen. Who’s Counting Now had huge ratings at the end of its run, in part because of the boys’ teenage character Dylan.
I was ashamed to have been such a fan when there was so much going on behind the scenes I hadn’t known about. Their horrible mother. Some abusive producer harming Leander behind the scenes because she was some sick fuck. I wanted to scream at the fucking world sometimes.
Instead, I cradled my slightly protruding stomach. More than ever, I wanted to protect this child from all that the world could do to them.
“We’ll do everything different,” I said passionately. “We’ll protect them.” I grasped Leander’s hand and pressed it to my belly.
“Are they moving?” he asked excitedly, apparently forgetting our upsetting conversation.
I shook my head. “But I have the appointment tomorrow. We’ll get to hear the baby’s heartbeat again.” I couldn’t help grinning at that.
Leander insisted on coming along the next day, though I knew it had to be painful to be upright for several hours on that leg. Not to mention the unpleasant trip there. He hadn’t had to use his crutches so extensively since the painful trip home from the hospital, and at least then he’d been on painkillers. But he was determined, in spite of the sheen of sweat that broke out across his forehead by the time we got there.
Since Janus had started filming this week, there was just no way he could take off—especially when he was supposed to be Leander. If anyone found out I was pregnant, at least it made sense for “Janus,” my fiancé, to be with me when I went to the doctor.
I was starting to show. Right now my tummy could be written off as a summer of eating Italian food… Which, granted, I had been indulging. Ever since the nausea had passed, I had been stuffing myself with fresh homemade pasta and pizza and the most delicious carbs on the planet, in the place where they had been perfected.
There was this one little hole in the wall restaurant where there was a trio of ancient Italian women who literally made the pasta and oh my God, the parmigiana sauce they made. I went there every single afternoon last week for lunch.
I’d been plump before, but now I was positively rounding out. And my boobs! Sheesh. My bras had quickly become a joke. I’d forced Milo to go bra shopping for me because I didn’t want to leave Leander’s side.
“You ready?”
Thankfully, they had water in a little cooler in the office. I brought two for Leander. He was sweating from the hot August day, and I could only imagine the extra heat a thigh-high cast added.
We had to wait half an hour in the waiting room but they finally called us back. I’d only had the one other appointment before this, so at least I was somewhat familiar with the drill. I laid back and the nurse technician lifted my shirt to coat my belly with cold gel.
