Ugh, baby mama. I hate that term.
I sigh and pick up Mila’s dolly. I smooth her hair down and gaze out of the window. What would I do if they turned up here? How would I be able to protect Mila then?
I’m not naive. Sooner or later one of the gossips will figure out that Sofie Callahan’s secret baby is Conner Burke’s. Even if they don’t know for sure, which they won’t, they’ll guess. A lucky guess is all it’d take.
Then every aspect of Mila’s life will be shredded and examined, ready to be exposed to every person in America. She’ll grow up in the public eye, constantly scrutinized for how she looks and acts. She’ll always be his daughter, never just Mila.
I throw the doll in the toy box and drop back onto the sofa. I never wanted this. I never wanted any of this for her. I never wanted us to hide once the truth was out.
I never thought it would be such a big deal. I never thought it would matter to anyone beyond the Burke family. I never thought we’d be sitting here waiting for our identities to be discovered and our lives to be plastered across every media outlet in America.
I certainly didn’t think I’d be holed up in my house with him.
I certainly didn’t think my hormones would light up like Fourth of July fireworks at being so close to him all of the time.
Apparently, I didn’t really think at all.
“Done.”
I look toward the door and see Conner wiping his face with his shirt. My eyes flick down, to the tattoo wrapping his bicep and the definition of his stomach. To that “V” muscle.
Oh, sweet freakin’ hell. That “V” muscle.
The one that disappears under his jeans teasingly. The one that can switch panties from dry to drenched in approximately zero-point-five seconds.
I swallow and find his eyes. “Awesome.”
“Mhmm,” he hums, throwing his shirt on the back of the second sofa. “I’m sure you were thinkin’ about the sandbox just then.”
I open my mouth, then close it, because I wasn’t. I was thinking about how lickable that “V” is. Shit, that word is contagious.
“Ooookay.” I blow the word out with a long breath and stand. I hold my hands in front of me. “We need to draw some lines.”
“Lines?” He raises his eyebrows.
“Yes. Lines.” I push my bangs from my eyes and take a deep breath. “With us. If we don’t, it’s gonna get real messy, real quick.”
“Right.” He folds his arms across his chest and leans against the back of the sofa. “Well, then?”
“No talking about before I left,” I blurt.
“I wasn’t plannin’ on it.”
“Good. No teasing or playing like we used to.”
“Right.”
“No walking around without your shirt on.”
He smirks at that one. “I’ll try.”
“And absolutely no kissing me.” I point at him. “Because it’s counterproductive.”
“Absolutely, I agree. It’s much harder to hate you when you’re melting in my arms and whimpering.”
“I do not whimper!” I stomp my foot.
His smirk turns sexy. “Believe me, Sof, you whimper when I kiss you. And it’s a huge fuckin’ turn-on.”
My jaw drops open. “Then you shouldn’t growl at me!”
“I don’t fuckin’ growl!”
“You do!” I stop. “Oh my God, this is dumb. Look, whimpering and growling or not, no kissin’. At all. Not even the cheek.”
“Why don’t you throw a ‘no hugging’ in there?”
I narrow my eyes. “I’ll go one more and say no touching.”
“Yeah, wouldn’t want your ass touched by anyone other than Kye.”
“What the hell? Kye has never touched my butt!”
“Sure didn’t sound like that yesterday,” he grunts. “He liked lookin’ at it enough.”
This time it’s me who folds my arms across my chest. “What does it matter to you? He can say what he likes, right? Surely that extends to looking, too. I mean, I’m not your girlfriend anymore, as you so tactfully reminded everyone yesterday!”
Conner’s jaw tightens, and his eyes flare with annoyance. “You’re right, princess. So why don’t you go on a date with him?”
“You know what, Conner?” I say as Mila yells for me. “I think I’ll do just that.”
I slam the front door behind me and get in Kye’s truck.
“My, you’re a little ray of sunshine tonight, Sof.”
“Fuck you,” I snap. “I had to put these damn heels on to pretend this was a date and not just us going for a burger so I can prove a dumbass point.”
I reach down, tug the heels off, and pull my flats out of my purse.
Kye laughs. “Let me get this right. He actually let you out of the door on a supposed date with his brother?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care.” I click my tongue. “He’s an antagonistic prick. We’d be fine if he didn’t keep freakin’ kissing me!”
“Oh, being kissed by Conner Burke. Isn’t your life horrible? Don’t you know how many girls would love to be you?”
“They can be me. I don’t give a shit. Hell, they probably have been me.”
“You have such a stereotypical view of rock stars.”
“Have you met your eldest brother?” I look across the truck pointedly at him. He doesn’t answer, and I follow up with an “Mhmm, thought so.”
“We’re not all like Tate. Or my twin,” he adds as an afterthought, pulling up outside the cozy country-style bar. “Conner is actually the good boy of the band. Fewer girls than you think have kissed him, much less gotten inside his Levi’s.”
I mutter a garbled response and pull open the door. The bar/restaurant is almost full, but we find a table for two in the corner.
“Drink?”
I shake my head. “Just lemonade. Mila,” I add as an unnecessary explanation.
“Hey.” Kye snatches the menu so I have to look at him. “How much time have you had to yourself since she was born?”
“None,” I answer reluctantly.
“Right, and she’s safe with that jerk, so have a glass of something alcoholic and chill out for a bit. I promise not to ask you for a goodnight kiss.”
I laugh. “Okay, okay. Jack and Coke?”
“And food?”