Sinclair nodded like she was aware of this. Had Trina told her?
“The only reason I kept the card was to give it to you and let you know that a story was being written about Stark. I gave it to Wyatt.”
“I know. He told me,” she said. “Did you know Erica Edmonds has a thing for you?”
I shrugged. “She gave off an interested vibe. Trina said something about how she was waiting until our fake marriage was over to make a move.” I held my hands up in surrender. “But I swear to God, I never returned her interest or gave the impression I was or would be available.”
“I believe you,” she said.
“Does Trina?”
She made a face. “I don’t know. I get the feeling that she’s thinking this thing between you is over. I mean, she knows you and her have to co-parent this child, but I feel like she’s not thinking you two are an item.”
My heart pinched at that. Not that I was surprised. The last time I saw her she was walking out. I’d hoped maybe she’d missed me. It didn’t sound like it, though.
“Don’t give up, man,” Wyatt said patting me on the back. “If anyone can win Trina, it’s you.”
From his lips to God’s ears, I thought.
My house was far from perfect. In all likelihood, it still fell short of what Trina thought would be acceptable. But it was cleaner, brighter, and safer. It was time to reach out to Trina to discuss our future.
The next day was Sunday, which I knew was her nap day, and I didn’t want to interrupt that. Instead, I decided to check in with her in the evening after she had her siesta. I made a casserole and when I was certain she’d be up, and hopefully hungry, I went to her apartment.
Feeling nervous like a teenage boy asking out his first date, I knocked on the door.
“Ryder? What are you doing here?”
In the few days since I’d seen her, I’d forgotten how red her hair was and how pretty her eyes were. My heart twisted into knots with longing for her.
I held up the bag with the casserole. “Homemade takeout. I wanted to check on you and the baby.”
She gave me a smile and opened the door. That was a good sign. As I stepped inside her place, I realized, I’d never been here before. It was just like I’d have expected. Crisp and white, uncluttered. Everything had a place.
“The kitchen is in here.”
I followed her in. “It could use some rewarming. Are you hungry?”
“Actually, I am. What temp?”
I told her the temperature and then put the casserole in the oven. When I shut the door, I looked over at her.
“Do you need something to drink? I don’t have anything but water and juice,” she asked.
“I’m fine,” I said leaning back against the counter. “You look tired, are you okay?”
She nodded. “Yes. Tired but fine. The doctor said everything looked okay.”
“You went to the doctor and didn’t let me know?” I tried not to sound annoyed, but I wasn’t going to let her push me out. At least not out from our child’s life.
“It was just to confirm the pregnancy. I peed in a cup and that was about it.”
“I’d like to know about future doctor appointments,” I said. I could let her grumpiness roll off on most occasions but when it came to this, I’d fight for my rights.
“Yes, of course.” She stood on the other side of the small but cozy kitchen looking at me like she was uncomfortable.
Just a week ago, we were living and sleeping together, and now she felt a million miles away. I desperately wanted to hold her. To inhale her sweet, spicy scent. To taste those sassy lips.
“Is this weird?” she asked.