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I study him for a few more seconds, making sure he’s not pulling my leg like Mason’s pulling my hair, but he actually seems sincere, and I nod, carefully passing the baby to him.
As soon as Foster cradles him in the crook of his elbow and grins down at him, all of my unease vanishes.
Mason continues his conversation, reaching out to grab Foster’s finger, and I have to turn around before my ovaries spontaneously explode.
If there’s a lady in this building left un-pregnant during all that smiling Foster was doing earlier, she’d be pregnant now.
This, right here, is what book boyfriends are made of, and I am not immune.
No matter how much I’d like to be.
Naturally, I avoid looking his way as I grab a premade bottle of formula from the fridge and put it in the warmer. If I was still holding the baby, he’d be screaming his head off, waiting very impatiently for his dinner.
Obviously, he’s a traitor, too.
As the bottle heats up, I grab a few clean plates from the dishwasher I haven’t had a chance to empty, and while I’m bent over, Mason grunts. I glance over my shoulder just as Foster glances at my ass.
Not that you could miss it.
He doesn’t notice me noticing him at first, but then his gaze travels up my spine and meets mine. His cheeks turn a light shade of pink, but he doesn’t look away. He holds my stare as I straighten and put the plate on the counter.
It’s a little awkward, and I know I should say something, but my brain is empty. I’ve got nothing. But then he opens his mouth, and I know I’m off the hook.
“Are you breastfeeding?”
Okay, I wasn’t expecting that.“Umwhat?”
“Jesus. I’m sorry.” He shakes his head and runs a hand down his face and over the scruff on his chin. “That was super inappropriate.”
“I wasn’t able to, but thanks for asking. Do you have any other questions about my breasts?”
I put my hands on my hips and look at him expectantly. Waiting.
He opens and closes his mouth several times like he has a few questions but doesn’t dare ask a single one of them.
This goes on for several seconds before he finally shakes his head.
“Sorry, no more questions, or at least not about those, uh, that.”
My cheeks are heating up, and I quickly turn around to grab the warmed bottle.
We need to hustle up and eat this dinner so he can get the hell out of here, and I can move on with my life. And by that, I mean soak in the tub with my ‘massaging wand’, go to bed, sleep for six interrupted hours, and when I wake up, pretend that his presence here means nothing.
It would be a whole lot easier if he would leave right now.
He could even take the dinner with him.
“Let me.” He places a light hand on mine, and Jesus, I didn’t realize he’d gotten so close. Or that he smells so good. It’s like a mix of leather and some kind of fruit, and I find myself leaning back to get another sniff.
He definitely needs to leave now.The Crushis getting closer and closer to busting out of its box, and I don’t need that.
“Why don’t you eat, Avery?” His fingers caress my hand, moving slowly toward the bottle, and I’m fucking powerless to stop him as he pulls it away. “Let me help you tonight.”
On the outside, I’m frozen, but on the inside, everything is in turmoil.
My heart beats at an accelerated rate, my breathing is erratic, and my brain is on fire. It’s like my thoughts are moving at light speed but going around in a circle so they don’t actually get anywhere.
“Okay.” It’s a simple word, but it’s all I can manage as he turns away, sits on the couch, and bottle feeds my baby.
