Dirty Bad Boys Box Set: Forbidden Romance Collection

I grab my purse and pull my suitcase along. “Just a nightmare.”

“Me too. Must be the heat in the room.”

“Maybe. Thank God it wasn’t real.”

It’s the last thing I mumble before we exit the room and head back to reality.

Chapter Seventeen

I was quiet the entire flight home, trying my damn hardest to ignore a dream that felt entirely real. Luckily, we weren’t sitting together; the overweight man next to me and his body odor were more pleasing than the Jerk himself.

At the airport, it was an obligatory goodbye before we parted our ways.

I made it my priority upon our return to attend the paternity test. It was the only communication we had, and even then, it was short and to the point. Soon he would have the answer he so desperately craved, and maybe luck would be on both our sides and it would be Jason’s. Yes, I was that fucked up that I prayed for the easier way out of this whole mess.

Days passed without us talking at work or even via text, and after a week, I let it all go. Whatever bond, friendship, or connection we had over that weekend had passed. It was strictly business, and even then he wouldn’t make eye contact with me. I wasn’t sure what I did wrong; after all, he was the one who invaded my dreams and gave me the best sex of my life.

Distracting myself came easy when I focused my energy on moving into Kate’s. Boxes were all packed and ready to go, neatly organized into categories, color-coded, and alphabetically in order. I placed the remaining boxes into storage along with some furniture until I could figure out my next move. The apartments were overpriced in the city, and while we got top dollar for ours, I had a child to think about. A whole new life I had to worry about for at least eighteen years.

It begged the question of whether or not I would settle down in the city. I did have a job to think about, but was certain I could pick one up on the west coast. I also took the liberty of researching my rights as the primary parent, and whether or not I could make a decision like that.

Still in my second trimester, what I thought would be a walk in the park was turning out to be more like a trip down Agony Lane. My ankles (or should I say cankles) disappeared, along with my waistline. The only thing that kept me sane was Kate. She was a hell of a lot of fun, told ridiculous stories about herself and her wild friends, plus she was a great listener.

“So did the Jerk speak to you today?” she asks, biting into a stick of celery.

“Yes. But it was only to ask me where we kept the scissors in the stationary room. Trust me, it was as formal as any stationary room exchange could be.”

“Then you didn’t tell him about the scan next week? Presley, I can come if you need me,” she offers.

I have learned a very important thing about Kate; she is a great friend. Not only does she listen to me complain about the Jerk for countless hours, she is willing to rearrange her schedule to attend my appointment with me. In all fairness, I spent countless hours listening to the drama unfold with her secret lover. The thing I didn’t get about the whole situation was why Kate allowed herself to be manipulated by this pathetic excuse of a man. She is gorgeous and tall with an athletic build. Her shimmering blonde hair is cut just below her chin, perfectly straightened like she just stepped out of a salon. She has these cute freckles that spread across her cheeks and nose, covering her pale British skin. Plus she has this cheeky smile, with a dimple on the left side of her face.

Yet something about this man, the power he held, or the fact that he was some secret underground boss, drew her in to the point that she was under his bewitching spell and couldn’t break free.

“I promise I’ll tell him, and thanks for the offer.”

“We have sucky love lives,” she complains, sinking into the couch with the remote.

“Yep, we sure do. What’s the latest on your secret mystery man?”

She lets out a huge sigh. “Nothing. I texted him and asked him if he wanted to have dinner tonight and he never responded.”

“So then why didn’t you call him?”

“Because he made it clear that he doesn’t date. He doesn’t do relationships. I was just hoping he might change for me.”

“Are you sure he isn’t gay, Kate?”

“Maybe. Who knows? He only wants to screw me from behind so what the hell does that mean? He is gay or he doesn’t like my face.”

I give her a sympathetic smile. “Why are you still hung up on him? You can have any guy, Kate. He sounds so—”

“Uninterested?”

I simply nod.

“Because, Presley, the way he makes me feel. Even though he acts that way, when we’re alone I feel so empowered. He teaches my body to do things I’ve never experienced, and sexually, he takes me to a level that is beyond words.”

I can hear it in her voice; it’s not love as such, but an uncanny connection to someone who’s unattainable.