Boss Daddy: A Secret Baby Romance by Black, L. (big screen ebook reader txt) 📗

“Yes, he is,” I said. “I just miss him. And even though he’s only ninety minutes away, he’s so busy right now, he can’t really drop things and come back when I want him to.”

They nodded empathetically and sipped their tea as I poured out everything that happened between us and Ethan’s threats. There wasn’t any hesitation, nothing holding me back from telling them everything. I realized then just how close I had gotten to these two women. Other than Samantha, they were the closest, truest friends I had ever had.

But when they looped back to talking about Portland, I moved the conversation on as quickly as I could. I didn’t want to talk about him wanting me to move to Portland or my hesitation. I needed to figure out what I thought about it first.

35 Jordan

Another long night. Another cold sweat. Another nightmare that woke me up when it got too real and I felt like screaming and thrashing at things that turned out to not be there. I sat up, my chest heaving as I tried to take in enough oxygen to fill my lungs. My eyes darted around the room, looking for the shadow men that had just been chasing me in the dream. Listening for the cries of the baby locked in the room alone. Searching for Hannah’s body.

None of them were there. I knew that. But I had to try, or else I would go mad.

I got out of the bed and looked around, opening the sliding door and stepping out onto the balcony. I was only wearing boxers, but I didn’t care. Being on the middle floor of a hotel at seven in the morning meant that I was likely invisible to the people going about the beginnings of their day. I sat down on the cold concrete and put my head in my hands. I had to get a grip. I had to figure this out.

It had been two weeks since I had been around Hannah. In those two weeks I might have slept through the night once.

When Hannah was by my side at night, I would sleep all the way through. I didn’t have nightmares with her. I barely dreamed at all. Usually, I would fall so deeply into sleep that the next thing I was conscious of was waking up, smelling her skin and kissing her shoulder or the top of her head. Without her, I was a mess.

Our last real conversation was me telling her I was getting an apartment and asking her to move in with me. I knew it was a lot. I knew it was soon. But she was carrying my child. The rules were out the window, and we were making it up as we went along. But she acted so weird when I asked.

She was independent, and I knew that. I loved that. But for the past two weeks, our conversations were brittle and depthless. They felt more like checking in, making sure the other was alive. None of them lasted more than five minutes before one of us would find a reason to get off. Usually, it was either that we were going to work or going to bed. As much as I wanted to talk to her, I couldn’t think of anything to say. Everything I wanted to say would start a fight.

She was going to share her space with a baby soon. Why couldn’t she share a space with me? I turned it over and over in my mind but never brought it up. It had to be enough that I got to talk to her at all.

Matt was able to move into his apartment almost immediately, but I had to wait the two weeks for mine. It meant I was at the hotel alone, and that made it worse. Being at an apartment alone was one thing, but a hotel was something wholly different and far lonelier. It meant coming into a building full of people, all on vacations or work trips or dates. All of them with someone to hold or with a purpose for work. For me it was just surviving until the next day.

I helped Matt move in and then went to the store to get a couple of air mattresses. Matt’s place was already furnished, but mine wasn’t, and I didn’t plan on putting a bunch of stuff in it. Matt chose a two-bedroom spot and had a bed for me in case I needed to stay for some reason, and I returned the favor by buying an extra mattress for him. He laughed at the idea, but I could see he appreciated it anyway. It was a token, but it was something to show him I thought about him, too. We were there for each other.

Now that he seemed to be getting along and had people to talk to, things were moving along pretty well for him.

I wished I was happy. But I couldn’t be, not with Hannah back in Astoria. Not with me moving into an apartment I didn’t want in a city I didn’t want to be in.

It was pretty early in the day, and I had already made my call to Tom. There wasn’t much to move, so I figured I would be done and set up before Tom called me back. My furniture was simply the air mattresses, a futon that I found at a thrift store three buildings down that was twenty bucks, a nightstand, and a television. I didn’t watch a lot of TV, especially since I was usually at work when anything good was on, but having it there meant I could plug in my streaming stick and watch stuff to go to bed to. Or, more often, I could put it on in the background when I was awake so I didn’t feel so alone.

When everything was inside, Matt headed back to his own place to get ready for work, and