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That included living arrangements.
He clenched his jaw as he walked through Becka’s door. The place wasn’t any better than the first time he’d been there. If anything, the flaws were only more glaring. He’d missed the water stain on the wall before, where someone overhead had obviously had a leak that had come through to Becka’s apartment. Or the crack in her window that wouldn’t keep out the cold—or the heat.
She didn’t look at him as she reached for the pile of bags at her feet and shouldered her backpack. “This is temporary, Aaron. I’m not prepared to sign my life away to be your kept woman, baby or no. If you pull another high-handed move like you did earlier, I’m out and I’m not coming back.”
He clenched his jaw harder. Do not yell at her contrary ass. Be calm. Be fucking rational. “You mentioned compromise.”
“I’m surprised you know the word.”
Aaron scooped up the remaining three bags and shot her a look that dared her to argue with him taking them. “Let’s go. I have a car waiting downstairs.” He chose to ignore her muttering uncomplimentary things and followed her down the dim hallway to the rickety elevator. Through it all, he kept his damn mouth shut. They were both on a hair trigger, and he didn’t need to be the one to set things aflame. Especially not now that they needed to sit down and have a serious discussion.
But he still couldn’t stop himself from asking. “When did you know?”
“Four weeks ago.” She hitched her bag higher on her shoulder and marched out of the elevator as soon as the doors opened, Aaron on her heels.
“You’ve known for a month and only called me yesterday.”
“That is how math works.”
He instinctively held the front door open for her and pointed at the black car idling at the curb. Aaron grabbed her backpack and loaded all the bags into the trunk. He joined Becka in the back seat, his irritation only growing when she pulled out her phone and started playing some puzzle game. “Why didn’t you call me as soon as you knew?”
“I didn’t know what I wanted to do, so there was no reason to bring you into the conversation until I made my decision.”
If she wanted to keep it or not.
He stared straight ahead as his driver merged into traffic. Aaron knew he ultimately had no say in her choice, and he wouldn’t have taken that from her even if the thought of her terminating the pregnancy opened a hole in his chest that he didn’t know how to process. He’d known he was going to be a father for less than twelve hours. There was absolutely no logical reason for him already to be attached to the idea of this baby, let alone the baby itself. It wasn’t even really a baby yet.
None of that seemed to matter.
He looked back at Becka, noting the changes he’d been too distracted to take in earlier. Even without the makeup she’d worn the night he met her, her skin damn near glowed, and her still-blue hair, though now more turquoise than actual blue, seemed glossier. His gaze skated over her black leggings and still-flat stomach to her breasts pressing against her tank top. Those have definitely changed.
“Stop ogling me.” She spoke without looking up from her phone.
Since there was no question that ogling was exactly what he’d been doing, he went on the offensive. “Have you been eating? You don’t look like you’ve gained any weight.”
Becka snorted. “Yes, Mother, I’ve been eating. It’s normal not to gain much in the first trimester, especially since I’m so active and this is my, ah, first pregnancy.”
He racked his brain for what little pregnancy knowledge he had and...came up short. Aaron’s sisters were both younger than him and hadn’t had children yet. His mother wasn’t much of a sharer, and even if she was, she wouldn’t have gone into detail with her only son when it came to her pregnancies. Besides, he’d never had a reason to ask before.
He had to brush up on his knowledge, maybe read a few books. He’d attend the doctor’s appointments with Becka, of course, but Aaron didn’t like to walk into any encounter without having a decent idea of how it would play out. He’d rather be armed with all the information and possibilities before the conversation even began.
He shot another look at her to make sure she wasn’t paying any attention to him, and then spent several minutes ordering the top-rated pregnancy books available. Aaron hesitated, then put express shipping on the order and plugged in the address to the office. If Cameron bothered to open the box, he might give Aaron shit, but it was better than the alternative: Becka finding them and getting her back up.
Even with traffic, they made it to his penthouse in good time. He led the way through the lobby and to the elevator. “I’ll get you added to the list of people with access to the floor tomorrow. Tonight, we’ll get your space set up and talk over dinner.”
“I’m not really hungry.”
He punched the button for his floor. “You just got done telling me that you eat.”
“I do eat.” She sounded like she was clenching her jaw as hard as he was. “I also only eat when I’m hungry, and right now I’m not hungry.”
She was too skinny, surely. Aaron opened his mouth and then reconsidered. Becka might have chosen to be here with him, but it was a tenuous alliance. Even with his threat of involving her sister and friend and their respective men, there was nothing really holding Becka to him. He’d be on the birth certificate—he’d sue for paternity if he had to—but they had at least eighteen years of dealing with each other in front of them.
And he’d essentially gotten them started by blackmailing her.
Way to go, Livingston. You played this all wrong.
The doors opened into a foyer that separated his penthouse from anyone who had access. He keyed in his code and held the door for her. “This way.” He slipped past her and led the way through the open living room and kitchen to the short hallway. There were three doors. Aaron pointed at the one on the right. “Bathroom.” Center. “My room.” Left. “Your room.”
