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“Coming willingly is the issue here.”
“I see no issue. We had incredible sex, my magic, beastly cock pulled some strings, and now you’re stuck with me. It could be worse.”
“Worse than being stuck with an egotistical, cocky, British asshole?”
“Yep.” He kisses my nose. “You could be stuck with you.”
“Fuck you!” I laugh.
“You will later.” He winks and gets up.
I pull my shirt over my head and watch as he gets changed. Into clothes from my drawer. I lick my lips, the tang of my orange juice coming off them. His muscles flex as he pulls a shirt on, and I swallow.
I guess I should get used to sharing drawer space.
“What time will you be done with your agent?”
I drag my gaze away from his lovely butt and look at him. “I won’t be long in there. Why?”
“Because we need to talk to my sister.”
“Why? What’s the rush?”
He grabs my hands and pulls me up. I’m not going to like this. He has that don’t-you-fucking-dare-argue glint in his eyes.
“Tyler. Spit it out.”
“Put your hackles down, bitch,” he murmurs. “She needs to know she’s moving into your place and you’re moving into mine.”
Apparently, drawer space isn’t all I should be getting used to.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re pregnant. My baby. You’re living with me.”
“Correct, correct, and we’re coming back to this.”
“No, we’re not. I told you I’d be there every day and I mean it. That means I’ll be holding your hair when you’re sick and carrying you to bed when you pass out on the sofa because you’re tired. It means I’ll rub your feet when they’re sore and look after you all the time.”
“I’m pregnant, not sick.” I put my finger over his mouth. “And you need to lay off the sugar, because if you carry on being so fucking sweet, I might actually get sick.”
“You’re moving in with me, Liv. Just like I wouldn’t give up on you, I’m not giving up on this.”
“I don’t doubt it.” I brush mascara over my lashes and pull my hair into a ponytail. “And just like I wouldn’t stop fighting you on that, I won’t stop fighting you on this.” I meet his eyes through the mirror. “Twenty-four hours ago, my world was completely fucking rocked. Right now, I’m still hanging between a good rocking and a bad rocking. Let me come to terms with that before you throw another big change at me, okay? Please.”
He lays his hands on my hips and kisses the back of my neck. “One week. You have one week to accept it because you’re moving after Day’s hen party.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“But that’s my offer, and it’s the best you’re going to get.” He grabs his keys from the dresser and kisses me once more. “Call me when you’re done with Sheila.”
“Offer? That isn’t a damn offer! That’s a fucking demand!” The door opens. “Tyler!”
The door shuts.
I scream and throw my hairbrush out the door. Sweet or demanding, they both piss me off.
I grab my own keys and head out to meet my agent for the last time.
