Halftime Husband (Sassy in the City 5)

Benefits that had to end sooner than later, apparently, because I couldn’t say no to this opportunity.

I wanted to tell the girls, but I didn’t want to ruin Willow’s birthday. Maybe they wouldn’t care. They were used to a revolving door of nannies and maybe I cared more about them than they did me. Which would suck, but would be best for them, frankly. I didn’t want them hurt.

My stomach was churning. I reached for the champagne, then dropped my hand. That was the last thing in the world I needed right now.

I texted my agent.

Awesome. I’m in. Can’t wait.

That was a total lie. I should be excited, but instead I was a ball of anxiety.

I went to bed at eleven after getting an amazing hug from Willow thanking me for a “birthday that didn’t suck.” Brandon wasn’t home yet and I was actually relieved that I didn’t have to face him. I wasn’t sure I had the acting skills to pretend nothing was wrong.

But then I was startled awake a few hours later by the sound of my door opening. “Poppy?” I asked, concerned. It felt like the dead of the night. I’d been dreaming I was trying to perform and couldn’t remember the steps.

“No, it’s me,” Brandon said.

I realized he was coming in from the bathroom. I could see his outline and shape in the darkness moving toward me. “What are you doing? What time is it?”

“It’s four. I just got home and I’m drunk.”

I sighed. For once, I did not want to have sex. Not with a drunk Brandon. Not knowing I was leaving in a matter of days. “Then go to bed,” I said.

He sat heavily down on the mattress. “I want to sleep with you.”

He sounded drunk. His words were slightly slurred.

“I’m not having sex with you drunk at four in the morning.”

“You have before.”

“I was drunk then too and I wasn’t asleep first. Just go to sleep, Brandon.” I reached out to squeeze his arm. I wasn’t annoyed. I was just too emotional right now. I had a feeling I’d start crying the second he was inside me and that would be mortifying.

“Can I sleep with you?” he asked. I heard his shoes land on my floor with a soft thump. “I just want to cuddle, I promise.”

Torn, I didn’t answer. Did I want him to cuddle? Yes. Would it destroy me? Most likely.

The bed was a double, so when he climbed in beside me, after yanking off his T-shirt, we were crammed up on top of each other. He sighed and spooned me, throwing a heavy arm over my side, his large hand resting on my hip. After giving me a kiss that landed on my ear, he murmured, “You’re the best.”

Then within thirty seconds he was asleep, snoring softly.

No more sleep for me. I was wide awake. Debating endlessly in circles. Did I tell him I was in love with him? It wouldn't change anything if I did though. He didn’t love me in return. Even drunk he wasn’t confessing any deep love. He’d said I was the best, which was great, but that didn’t indicate love. Not even close.

If confessions were going to rise to the surface, you’d think it would be while drunk.

I lay there in the dark, sniffling, silent tears running cool streaks down my cheeks.

Once or twice, I’d thought I had a broken heart.

I’d been so wrong.

This was a broken heart. It felt like I couldn’t breathe. Like I had a hole inside of me that not even a thousand donuts could fill. Like being alone wasn’t going to be okay ever again.

I finally drifted off to sleep, only to get woken again by the sound of a knock on my bedroom door. This time it was Poppy.

“Dakota? Are you awake?”

I sat up, panicked, not sure if the door was locked or not. Brandon groaned in the bed besides me. “Yes, are you okay?”