Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
I’d been worried it was too fast. Even if everything in our life had been going quickly. Getting together, moving into a house together, getting a pretty engagement ring on my left finger.
So when I’d broached the topic, I’d done so telling him that there was no pressure if he decided that wasn’t a step he was ready for.
But he’d been quick to grab me by the hips and pull me close.
“I’d be fucking honored to be her dad.”
And so it was.
He had the title.
For the position he’d held since she was three months old.
Of course, maybe he regretted it when Lainey would loudly holler for him day and night.
Dadadadadadadada.
She rarely ever called me like she did him.
It was too sweet to be jealous of.
“Get ready for a lot of fucks,” she said, whispering the curse, “in your future. At the most inopportune times. In the line at the bank. At church…”
“Luckily, I don’t give a fuck what strangers think,” Coast said, shrugging.
“Which is what I might like most about you. Okay. I have a video call with the audiobook company. I’m gonna gather my gremlins and hit the road.”
“How’d the filming go?” Coast asked, reaching for my hips, pulling me close.
“Good. I think we got enough content for the next two weeks.” Without, I might add, all of the screaming and degradation that happened the last time I was on social media.
It felt like a reclamation.
Of my love of dance.
Of my online image.
Of my relationship with filming.
I couldn’t ask for a better assistant than the encouraging Brooke—who thought even my worst dances were brilliant. And the response from former fans was really heartwarming.
“More free time for me,” Coast said, his hands sliding from my hips to my ass.
“Where’s Lainey?”
“Nap after that epic fit she threw over the stuffed dog going in the washing machine.”
She’d had some odd sleep regression lately, so she—and we—were running on fumes.
If she was out, we probably should have been sleeping too.
But as Coast’s hands started to massage my ass and his head tipped toward my neck, all I could think of was him.
“Know one of my favorite parts of having our own place?” Coast asked, his lips on my neck, making a shiver work its way down my spine.
“What’s that?” I asked, desire pooling in my core and surging through my veins.
“No rules about not fucking in the kitchen,” he said.
Then he was turning me and bending me over the island.
His hands went to the straps of my leotard, drawing the tight material down my body until I was completely naked right there in our kitchen.
Coast’s hands were all over me. Exploring, teasing, igniting the fire through my body.
And just when I felt about to combust, he surged deep inside me.
My moan echoed out through the lower level of the house as Coast pushed me down across the island. The cool stone met my overheated skin, making shivers move through me as Coast started to fuck me.
Slow and deep at first.
Then harder and faster as our need grew, as the ache for release reached a fever pitch.
“Fuck, yeah,” Coast groaned, grabbing a handful of my hair to arch me off the island, so he could hear me better. “Come for me.”
So I did.
Hard and long, taking him with me.
Neither of us had even stopped to think about protection.
So a few weeks later, we had a happy surprise when the stick turned blue.
Coast - 1 year
“Okay. I have something for you,” Zoe said, her voice having a strange edge to it.
“Oh, yeah?” I asked, looking up from coloring with Lil’ Bit. “That it?” I nodded toward the folder she was hugging to her chest.
“I don’t want you to be mad.”
“Doubt that’s gonna happen.”
“Just know that all of this was done in a secret way. It can’t be traced back to anyone. And no one will know what I did. Well, what I had Arty do,” she said.
“Be right back,” I told Lainey as I climbed off the floor, putting a hand to Zoe’s lower back and leading her into the kitchen. “Lemme see.”
I reached for the folder and spread it out on the island.
It had a thick stack of paper inside, each tabbed and paper-clipped.
My stomach clenched at the first name.
William Roe.
Little Will.
That brave boy who’d been holding his little sister’s hand on our front stoop while the foster care lady held the baby.
“He’s almost done with medical school,” Zoe told me. “He’s going to be a pediatrician. His little sister just graduated high school. The baby? He’s a really talented musician. He puts his music up online. He seems really, really happy.”
My gaze flicked to Lainey.
“They were adopted by the foster family they went to after you. By all accounts, they were loved, had a stable life, grew up happy.”
Just like that, a small crack in my heart seemed to finally heal.