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“I hope you know what you’re doing is a federal offense. You can get years—YEARS!—in prison for this.”
“It’s not a federal offense unless I cross state lines,” I counter. In the rearview mirror, I glance at Mila’s still face. “Is Mila suffering from any kind of illness we should know about?”
“No. Did you give her some kind of drugs I should know about?”
“Lauren?” a small voice murmurs.
“Oh, thank God. I thought he killed you,” the woman Mila called Lauren shouts.
I pull over immediately, and Dax hops out. We basically switch places with him in the driver’s seat and me in the rear of the SUV so I can attend to Mila.
“J? Lauren?” Mila struggles to sit up. “What’s going on? Where am I?”
“In the back of a van. These two men are trying to kidnap you. They’re probably going to sell you.” Lauren narrows her eyes at me and tries to block my access to Mila.
“If you don’t allow me to tend to Mila, I’m putting you out of the vehicle,” I warn.
“I don’t need tending.” She pushes me away or at least attempts to. “I’m fine. I ran out and got light-headed.”
“My missus would always faint when she was pregnant,” chirps Dax from the driver’s seat.
“Pregnant? But Mila would have to—"
Mila’s hand claps over Lauren’s mouth. She smiles sweetly in my direction. “I’m not pregnant. Thank you for your concern. Why are you here?” she asks Lauren.
“He was kidnapping you.” Lauren points a shaky finger at me.
“But this is my date. The one you set up.”
“That’s not John.” She holds a phone screen to Mila’s face. “This is John. And he’s been texting me telling me he’s going to report me to the dating service for being a fraud.”
Mila leans around Lauren to look at me. “You’re not John? What is J short for if not John?”
Lauren folds her arms across her chest. “Yeah, who are you?”
“It’s not short for anything, Mila. My name is Jay. Jay Eaton. And you won’t need a dating service because you have me. Your dating days are over.” I reach across Lauren and pull Mila into my lap.
“We don’t know anything about you. Mila, do not look at him like that,” Lauren orders.
Mila makes a face and covers her eyes. “Oops. It’s hard, Lauren. I mean, he’s not a normal man.”
“How am I not normal?”
Mila peeks through her fingers. “Do you not own a mirror?”
“I have two eyes, one nose, two lips. Seems pretty normal.”
“You do have two lips. That’s true.” She stares at my mouth long enough for my cock to stir under her ass. She probably can’t feel it because this dress has enough fabric for two. “Do you have one butt or two?”
“Oh my God, not this debate.” Lauren slides down her seat.
I’m intrigued, though, and give it some thought. “Two cheeks, one butt. Like two lips, one mouth.”
“That’s a pretty good comparison. I was going to argue with you about how you can’t really move the cheeks independently, but the two lips, one mouth argument is convincing.”
“It’s one butt. One butt,” Lauren shouts.
“Buttocks is plural, though,” Mila points out. “The S says it’s two.”
“I’m wearing pants with an S, but it’s just one pair.”
“I can see you two have a lively household,” I say.
“Have you changed your mind?” challenges Mila. Her chin is out. This seems like serious business, so I don’t admit that the pants argument is a compelling one.
“It’s two butts. Definitely two.”
five
MILANA
“Can we please have the room?” Dr. Perkins asks. I told everyone I was fine and I didn’t need to see a doctor, but when Jay offered one, Lauren was suddenly on his side for the first time.
“No.” Jay is the first to answer. There is something about his no-nonsense approach to things I like. He gets straight to the point and says what he means. It’s comforting.
“I’m her legal proxy.” Lauren lies straight through her perfect teeth. I’m not even totally sure what that is. I think I have an idea, but I could be wrong.
“You are? Wouldn’t that be my—” She shoots me a look that tells me to zip it and reminds me we’re on the same team. Right. Besides, I don’t want to call my parents right now. They’d freak out, jump on a plane, and be in the city in seconds. “Right.” I nod. “She’s my proxaden.”
“Proxy,” Lauren corrects, standing up a bit straighter as if she knows what she’s talking about. I’m not even sure being someone’s proxy is a real thing, but I just let her go with it.
“Check her over, Doc,” Jay says, making it clear that no one is leaving the room until the doc looks at me. When he brought us to the fancy medical office, the waiting room was empty, and I’d seen a sign on the door stating the place was closed. But Jay ignored it and carried me straight back to the room and sat me down.
