“Frosted Flakes are my jam. It’s like you read my fucking mind, Mari.” He grabs the spoons and bowls and I do the pouring. I can’t help but wonder if he’ll want to be involved in the baby’s life and what kind of team we’d make, but I know better than to have any expectations at all regarding this ironic, messed-up little situation.
Taking a seat at the breakfast nook, we chow down as we stare off at the midnight waves breaking on the shore.
“It’s so pretty out here, isn’t it?” I ask. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“You need to get out more.”
I huff, head tilted. “Wasn’t exactly born with a silver spoon. Didn’t get a black American Express card on my eighteenth birthday.”
“Contrary to how it must seem, I foot my own travel bills, thankyouverymuch.” His spoon clinks against the bowl. “Or I should say my company does.”
“What do you even do for a living?”
“Marketing and social media consultant,” he says. “Basically all these old companies run by eighty year olds hire me to make their business relevant again. Which I do. And they pay me handsomely for it.”
“Nice.”
“What do you do?”
My grip tightens around my spoon. “I can’t say.”
“What do you mean you can’t say?” He chuckles.
“I work for someone, helping them with something, but I’m not allowed to discuss it.”
“Oh.” He nods, scooping some flakes onto his silver. “You signed a non-disclosure.”
“Exactly.”
“As long as it’s nothing illegal …” he shakes his head. “There are a lot of unscrupulous people out there, Mari, just waiting to take advantage of nice, young women who only want to help. Or there are assholes who just like to throw money at their problems.”
I examine Hudson in that context, and I realize that Alec has a point, only Hudson’s asshole ways have seemed to dissipate lately, so there’s that.
“Anyway.” Alec rises, taking his dishes to the sink before yawning. “Thanks for the cereal. Don’t know about you, but your little party wore me out.”
Wish I could say the same.
“Goodnight, Alec,” I say. He waves, turning to leave. “Wait.”
“Yeah?” He glances over his shoulder.
“Why’d you tell me your name was Hollis when we first met?”
“It’s my middle name,” he says, lips bunching together as he shrugs. “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. Tons of people use other names when they hook up.”
“Yeah, but what if something happened and someone needed to find you again?”
“Why would anyone need to find me after a hook up? And why would I want anyone to find me after a hook up?” He chuckles, eyes focusing on me in the dark. “That’s the beauty of a one-night stand.”
“Forget it.” I rise, gathering my dishes. “Goodnight, Alec.”
Twenty-Four
Hudson
* * *
“I know you knocked her up.” Audrina pokes her finger into my chest, her strong perfume assaulting my senses Monday morning as I close the fridge door and slam my carton of orange juice on the counter.
“It’s way too early for this shit.” I walk away from her, chuckling to myself. “And I didn’t knock her up.”
“She’s so pregnant.” Her voice fills the expansive kitchen, echoing off the walls. “It’s ridiculously obvious to anyone with half a brain cell.”
“Shhh…” I silence her. “Keep your voice down.”
“Why? You don’t want everyone to know?” Her tongue pokes her inner cheek as she wears a childlike grin.
“No, because I don’t want you starting unnecessary rumors.” I retrieve a juice glass from a cupboard and fill it to the top. “Mari’s not pregnant. Think I would know.”
“Why doesn’t she drink?”
I huff. “Every woman who doesn’t drink is automatically pregnant?”
Audrina’s brows narrow as she searches for a rebuttal. “Why are you in such a hurry to marry her?”
“Because I fucking love her.” I take a leisurely sip.
“But why the rush?”
“Because I fucking love her,” I repeat.
“But you’ve always been so anti-marriage,” she says. “Your social life is like a real life version of The Bachelor, only there’s no ring and no proposal at the end and you screw everyone.”
“I’m not allowed to change?” I lift a brow. She’s quiet. “Your points aren’t valid, Audrina. Please. Stop before you embarrass yourself any further.”
“I’m not embarrassed,” she says, crossing her arms across her fake tits. “I just don’t understand why everyone’s so head over heels in love with this girl who’s clearly hiding something.”
I chuckle, downing the rest of my juice before rinsing it in the sink. “And what makes you think she’s hiding something, Detective?”
Audrina throws her hands in the air, fists clenched as she moans. “God, it’s like I’m the only person in this entire fucking house with their feet rooted in some semblance of reality.”
“Not true.” I step closer to her, peering down my nose. “You’re just bitter, Audrina. You’re bitter that it’s not you I’m marrying, and you’re comparing yourself to her because you’re insecure. You’ve always been insecure. It’s one of the many, many reasons we’ve always been all wrong for each other.”
Her jaw hangs, lashes fluttering as she tries to form a response, only Mari shuffles in from around the corner.
“Morning, gorgeous.” I slip my arm around her, kissing her forehead.
“Ugh.” Audrina waves her hand at us before spinning on her heel and all but stomping off.
“What’s that about?” Mari asks.
“You’re not going to fucking believe this,” I say, dragging my hand along my smirking mouth. “She thinks you’re pregnant.”
Mari’s expression fades, turning to ash. I can only imagine how embarrassing it would be for her if my family believed the only reason I was marrying her was because she was pregnant and not because we’re “madly in love.” Not that it’s the 1950s and those types of things are frowned upon, but because no one likes to be accused of something that isn’t true.
It boils down to respect.
And ensuring Mari is comfortable during her stay here—not the brunt of Audrina’s jealous rage.
“I set her straight,” I say, slipping my hands around her waist and pulling her body against mine. “She’s trying to figure out why we’re in such a rush to get married, and apparently that’s the only thing that makes sense to her.”
“She’s still in love with you.” Mari’s eyes search mine, though I’m not sure what she’s looking for.
Shrugging, I roll my eyes. “And?”
“And she’s not going to give you up that easily. That’s the impression I get anyway,” Mari says. “She wants to make this difficult for us.”