“Sounds to me like your mind’s already made up.”
The bell over the door chimes, saving me from saying anymore. “Sounds to me like we need to settle our bill and skedaddle.”
AJ laughs loudly. “Only if you promise to never say skedaddle ever again.”
Back at the house—because I’ve finally started thinking of it as my house and not just West’s—AJ and I scurry up to my room to do our nails, dark purple for AJ and navy for me. For the next hour and a half, we catch up and laugh until we cry. Turns out spending time with my bestie and feeling carefree for a few hours was exactly what I needed.
Around two, AJ shows herself out, and I dive back into my current read—Center of Gravity by K.K. Allen—and lose myself in the pages of Lex and Theo’s breathtaking love story.
I must have fallen asleep at some point, because I wake groggy and disoriented to the sound of male voices outside of my door.
“You need to figure something out,” a harsh voice whispers. “The clock is ticking.”
“I have plenty of time, Colton,” the voice I recognize as West replies.
Ah. That explains the grumpiness. “You really don’t. Less than a year, and that’s assuming it takes…quickly.”
One of them scoffs, presumably West. “Please. I bet it’ll be one and done.”
Undistinguishable muttering follows before the sound of West’s office door opening and closing meets my ears. Huh. I wonder what that’s about?
The temptation to crawl out of my bed and listen in is strong, but I fight it. I know I’d be pissed if West listened in on one of my private conversations, so as intrigued as I am, I tamp down the urge. Instead, I send a text to Mom and head downstairs to grab a drink.
My intention was to scamper down the steps quiet as a mouse. But, the sound of Colton’s barking voice has me rooted in place, as if it’s me he’s fussing at. “You do realize if you don’t make this happen, you’ll lose everything you hold so fucking dear, right?”
“I…” The resigned tenor of West’s voice makes my belly knot. He is usually so upbeat and cocky; hearing him sad makes me want to make his mission mine, just so he’ll be happy again. Then again, I’ve always been a fixer. “I know. I do. I just…how?”
“For as much as I bullshit and joke about it, I can’t really go out, snap my fingers, and be done with it—wham, bam, thank you, ma’am. This is something that will take discretion. Certain criteria will have to be met. This is more than fulfilling the terms of my trust; this is…the rest of my life. And someone else’s.”
I want to stay and listen, but my gut is swimming with guilt for what I’ve overheard already. If West wanted me to know what was troubling him, he’d tell me. So, I head down to the kitchen, making myself scarce, like the good roomie I am.
Chapter Fifteen
West
“I’m gonna crack soon,” I growl. Colton eyes me warily from the other side of my desk—as he fucking should. The pressure is getting to me, as is the irony. I need to knock someone up, yet I’m currently as celibate as a monk. I haven’t had a dry spell like this since…ever.
“I keep telling you, we need to get the ball rolling.” The smarmy little asshole leans back in his chair, a stupid smirk tugging at his mouth.
“Fine.” I spear my fingers through my hair. “What do we need to do to start?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” He leans down and whips out his legal pad. “First we need to narrow down what you’re looking for.”
“Like…genetically?” I ask.
“That and in general. Keep in mind, whoever you impregnate will be in your life for the foreseeable future.”
I cringe, because—fuck!—that sounds awful. Honestly, I can’t think of a single woman who I’d want to be that closely connected to for the rest of forever. Except for one, my Benedict Arnold brain shouts.
“Okay.” With my thumb and forefinger, I pinch the bridge of my nose as I lean back into my chair. “Let me think.”
“Ready when you are.” I crack my eyes open, and, sure enough, there’s Colton, pen to paper, just waiting on me to talk. Such a fucking choir boy.
“Okay,” I say again. “Attractive—for obvious reasons. Well educated. Not a psychopath. A semi-normal family would be nice, too. She needs to be a good person—like morally. A sense of humor would be nice, because something tells me our situation might require it. Honest. She has to be honest, in her motives for agreeing to this and in…co-parenting.” I spit the last word out, damn near choking on it.
“Keep going,” Colton urges.
“I’d prefer someone patient—parenting is fucking hard enough traditionally. Respectful, empathetic, able to prioritize, and maybe willing to change all of the shit diapers?”