After You (Because of You 2)

I can’t fight a little strain of happiness that comes to life inside me though, and I don’t see why I should. I get plenty of contentment in my life, but little enough genuine happiness. I don’t see the benefit of turning it away.

I know this ride has to end, I know I have to be careful, but dammit… I’m going to enjoy him for a little while first.

Chapter Seventeen

“What should we do for dinner?”

My gaze doesn’t flicker away from my laptop as I sit on Derek’s couch, laptop balanced on my knees, attempting to submit a book I need ready for publication tomorrow. “I don’t know. Why is your wi-fi so horrible? My connection keeps timing out.”

Derek glances over at me, then at Cassidy, snuggled up against him with her Kindle in her lap. “Probably too many devices hooked up to it.” He shifts, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll try turning the wi-fi off on my phone.”

I’m feeling antsy about being here already. It’s Sunday, and last night when Derek proposed I pack up my stuff and come spend the rest of the weekend at his place instead of alone at mine, it seemed like a good idea.

It seemed like it, but Derek’s life is much more chaotic than mine. When I wasn’t trying to work, everything was charming and adorable, but now that I’m under deadlines with a to-do list as long as my arm full of things I need to get done before I can go to bed tonight, I am less charmed.

I’m the grumpiest grump that has ever grumped. A total monster. Clearly not mother material. I get it. It’s just that I wasted an hour helping Cassidy hunt for Phoebe the lady bug earlier, and now I’m so far behind, I think my head might explode. I always put enough work to occupy four hard-working people on my to-do list, and I always get it all done.

Normally I don’t have Derek hauling me to the bedroom when Cassidy is playing, ladybug hunts, or internet connectivity issues either. Like I told Derek last night in bed, work is my life. All of it. I don’t have time for an actual life on top of it.

“I have an idea,” Cassidy announces. “Let’s go to Uncle Ryan’s for dinner. I want chicken tenders.”

Just the thought of leaving the 8 hours of work I still have to do to go waste 2 hours at a restaurant fries my brain. As it is, I need to leave and head back home in around 4 to 5 hours, and then it’s a 3 hour drive back to my house. I cannot accomplish anything during the drive. It’s time completely and utterly wasted.

This was a bad idea. I should not have come here and tried to work. Derek was so confident when he assured me I could have the best of both worlds; I could warm the empty side of his bed, play with him and Cassidy, and still get all my work done.

Derek was wrong.

I knew Derek was wrong, but I wanted him to be right, so I took the chance. Now as I have to fight the urge to snap at a five year old for wanting chicken tenders, I admit defeat. I am not going to get all this work done tonight. No amount of stressing myself out, no amount of being mean to everyone around me is going to change that.

If I had stayed home, the work would be done, but I chose to play. I tried to have a life. Lesson learned. I do not have time for a life. The damage is done now, so all I can do is salvage.

Okay, new plan. Tomorrow is Monday. I’ll be back at home; my routine will be back to normal, so I can catch up then. Right now I need to narrow down my to-do list to the things I absolutely must get done today. I can probably get that stuff done in a couple of hours. Yes, I’ll have roughly 6 hours of work to add to my docket this week (and I already had myself scheduled from the time I woke up until the time I went to bed) but if I spread it out over a couple of days and cut back on sleep, I should be back on track by Wednesday night.

“Sounds good to me,” Derek says, entirely unaware of my nervous breakdown in-progress. Glancing over at me with an easy smile, he asks, “Wanna show Ryan you don’t always wear prom dresses?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Just let me get this book submitted first.”

Cassidy pushes her Kindle aside, climbing across the couch and looking at my screen. “What are you doing?”

“I am putting a book up on this website so people can buy it and read it.”

“What kind of book?” she asks.

“Uh…” A very naughty one. Can’t say that. “It’s about a rock star getting back together with the girl he used to be in love with.”

“Why’d they break up?” she inquires.

“Because he was a real bonehead.”

Cassidy giggles. Her dark hair sways as she leans forward on her knees, reaching her hand forward to point at the cover. “I like that picture.”

“Oh, honey, don’t touch—”

My face loses several shades of color as she goes to to

uch the cover, but her tiny finger hits the X on the project. My laptop is a touch screen, so the project closes. I have spent the last 40 minutes ticking the right boxes, typing all the right copy, proofreading, pricing, uploading… and now it is all gone.

“Cassie, don’t touch that, it’s not yours,” Derek says, reaching over to loop his arm around her waist, tugging her back against him. She giggles as he tickles her, and my face heats up with barely restrained frustration.