Page 33 of Unsure in Love
I scoffed. “This may not be the Four Seasons…” It was three stars at best. I wasn’t exactly rolling in cash after spending a ton searching for my old man, which I kind of regretted. “But I’m just fine here.”
“I’d feel more comfortable if you stayed at my place.”
“I’m practically a stranger to you, Damian.”
His jaw tightened. “If you’d just give me the chance to remedy that, you wouldn’t have to throw it in my face all the time.”
Pulling in a breath, I tried to understand where he was coming from. Plus, deep down, I knew I was giving him a hard time because I was terrified. All of this was uncharted territory for me. By now, I’d be jumping ship and swimming toward the safe shores of singlehood, but I couldn’t jump ship with Damian’s baby, could I?
“Look, I know you’re trying to do right by the baby and all, but you don’t have to move me into your place, temporarily or not. I’m fine right here.”
“Okay. How about dinner at my place and maybe you spend the night? We’ll see how it goes.”
“It’s too late for dinner. I already ate.” That wasn’t quite true. I’d barely eaten the crappy food I’d gotten at a corner restaurant hours ago.
“Come to my place for goddamn dessert then. Whatever.” He huffed.
I knew he wouldn’t let up. Damian was just as stubborn as I was, if not more. I figured he’d stand in my hotel room and debate with me all night about going back to his place.
“Come on, Cass. Just work with me here. We need to talk.”
He looked about done with my antics, yet he kept his cool.
Scratching my forehead, I smiled. I liked that he didn’t give up easily.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“It’s just that I’m doing everything I can to give you an easy out, and you’re still here.” He was slowly chipping away at my defenses.
He stared at me with a bewildered expression. “Excuse me?”
Shrugging, I confessed, “I thought if I give you a hard enough time, you’d get fed up and leave. I don’t want you to feel obligated to me.”
Looking skyward, he released a long breath. “Christ, Cass, you’re a mad woman.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Of course, I’m obligated to you. You’re carrying my child.” He shook his head. “It’s more than just about the baby. It’s…”
I waited with bated breath for him to tell me what else it was about. To my disappointment, his expression shuttered, and I knew I wouldn’t hear the full truth. Damian only stepped closer and took my chin between his fingers. Tipping my head up to meet his gaze, he said, “Baby or no baby, if I wanted an out, I wouldn’t be here. Okay?”
Swallowing the instinct to retreat into my protective shell and push him away, I nodded. For the first time, I really felt like I wasn’t alone. Our story might not be some cushy romance—it was a damn mess, really—but the look in his eyes told me he’d be there despite our different worlds. I was comfortable with that.
“Okay,” I whispered.
* * *
So far, I’d fallen in love with every part of Damian’s apartment that I’d seen. His penthouse was luxurious. If I had an awesome place like this, I’d never want to leave home. Yet, he’d told me yesterday that he practically lived at his office.
“So, you’re a workaholic. Of course, you are.” I dug into my takeout box and popped a shrimp into my mouth.
“What, is it stamped on my forehead or something?” Damian asked, sounding amused. He swiveled his stool around to face me as if he couldn’t wait for my answer.
We were in his kitchen, indulging in Thai takeout. He was very distracting in sweatpants and a black t-shirt that molded his biceps and chest. I swear, the man was sculpted by Michelangelo himself. There was a damp lock of black hair falling over his left eyebrow that I itched to touch.
“You have this look about you,” I told him. “That says you’re super focused and way too serious.”
“I’m not that serious.”