Page 9 of Fame And Secrets

I grunted as he punched my arm. “Shut up, asshole. We’re just friends.”

I wanted to argue, but we’d reached her room. “Wait outside.”

“Don’t be a dick, Jag,” he warned, leaning against the wall.

Pushing the door open, anger over being left in the dark won over immediate concern.

“Did you forget my number?”

Immediately, her eyes widened, and her fingers contracted around her phone. “Julian. I was just about to call you.”

“I have one question.” She looked down at her shaking hand, but I was too worked up to coddle her. “Phoebe, look at me.”

She attempted to catch a teardrop before it rolled down her cheek. “Julian…”

“I said, look at me.” I leaned against the doorframe, my body vibrating with a confusing mix of fury and lust. It was the dichotomy of our entire relationship. Phoebe and I pissed each other off more than anyone else ever could, yet no one else elicited such violent, physical need in either of us. “This is the second time, Phoebe.”

“Excuse me?” She came alive with the spitfire hostility that drew me to her the moment we met.

“This is the second time you’ve ended up in the hospital pregnant and not told me. Anything else you’d like to share? You’ve got my full and undivided attention, princess.”