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“They’re in your bathroom.” She realized what she was saying and took a hasty step back. Of course Aaron hadn’t bought them. They were clearly a woman’s choice, and Aaron was very much not a woman. Oh God. Becka pasted a smile on her face, hoping it looked realer than it felt. “I didn’t realize you were seeing someone.” He hadn’t been three months ago... She was pretty sure.
No, I might not know a lot, but Aaron was single when we were together. He’s not that kind of guy.
But three months was a long time in the grand scheme of things. She hadn’t called him, hadn’t given him any indication that she ever would call him. Of course he hadn’t waited for her. She hadn’t expected him to. It certainly wasn’t disappointment souring her stomach at the thought of some mystery woman in Aaron’s bed, using Aaron’s ridiculous bathtub, lounging next to Aaron on his leather couch at the end of the day.
He set his laptop aside and pushed to his feet in a smooth move. It left him towering over her, and he took a step closer, bringing them nearly chest to chest. “I’m not seeing anyone, minx.”
Minx.
She tried not to let the casual endearment warm her, tried to stand firm and hold on to her anger. “Then, what is this?”
He studied her, his blue-gray eyes seeing too much. “You’re jealous.”
“Not even a little bit.” I am totally jealous. She took a quick step back. “There’s nothing to be jealous of. I just wanted to know if I’m stepping on some woman’s toes. It is such a man-stupid thing to do to invite your baby mama to live with you without talking to your girlfriend about it first.”
Aaron didn’t move, but he seemed closer. “Give me a little credit. Pulling something like that is a piece of shit move, and I’d never do it. Which is all a moot point because I’m not seeing anyone. I haven’t since the wedding.”
Since they’d had sex.
It probably had no significance. She’d be a fool to think it could possibly mean anything. The only thing that’s a moot point is this playing out in anything less than disaster. I’m having his baby. I don’t know him. He doesn’t know me. Moving me in with him doesn’t change that. She looked away. “That’s not my business.”
“Considering you’re now living with me, it’s at least partially your business.” He paused as if debating something with himself and then shifted to bring her attention back to him. Aaron was oh so serious when he said, “I won’t bring anyone back here without talking about it with you first. I don’t think it’s too much to ask that you give me the same courtesy.”
Men. He means men.
Maybe she wasn’t the only one who was jealous. Aaron hadn’t questioned the baby being his, and she hadn’t offered up any information. He put himself out there, a little bit. Would it kill me to do the same? Becka wrapped her arms around herself and stared at his left collarbone where it pressed against his plain black T-shirt. She had no business noting that he looked good in lounge pants and a shirt. Comfortable. As if in addition to doing whatever his job was—something high-powered and expensive, from the penthouse and the suits—he could also kick back with a beer and some football on the weekends.
She backed away, one careful step at a time. “I left the tub on.”
“Becka.”
She moved faster but paused in the entrance to the hallway. “I haven’t been with anyone since then, either.” She wasn’t about to examine that fact too closely. In the months leading up to the wedding, she’d been too busy to bother finding someone to scratch that particular itch, and after...
“The bath shit is from my sister.” He still watched her too closely. “My youngest sister, Trish, seems to think it’s a crime against God for me to own that tub without some equally fancy bath products to go into it.”
“She’s not wrong.” It was all she could handle. The strange mix of emotions curdling her stomach sent her fleeing back into the bathroom and locking the door behind her. Not because she thought Aaron would barge in, but because she didn’t trust herself. If the sound of the water running hadn’t been in the background for their entire conversation, a constant reminder that their time was limited, Becka might have done something unforgivable.
Like kiss Aaron.
She turned off the water—not a moment too soon—and gave the bath bomb another cautious sniff. When it didn’t set off any crazy pregnancy reaction, she unwrapped it and dropped it into the tub. While it fizzed and turned the water blue, Becka stripped. She took baths all the time, though the tub in her apartment was so small, she either had to have her legs halfway up the wall or sit with her entire torso freezing. She’d never once been so aware of the slide of her clothing against her skin before it fell to the floor. Impossible to ignore the fact that Aaron was right there on the other side of the door. In the same penthouse. Looking good enough to lick.
She gave herself a shake. Stupid pregnancy hormones. Everyone promised morning sickness and strange food cravings and exhaustion that never seemed to end. Becka was more tired than normal, sure, and she’d developed a fondness for peanut butter that bordered on obsession, but the main difference she’d seen was that she was turned on. All. The. Time. She’d been getting herself off twice a day for months, and half the time it barely took the edge off. She wanted, needed, and hadn’t been able to take that leap.
The truth was that she hadn’t wanted to.
Because the man she pictured every time she slipped her hand between her thighs to stroke her clit was Aaron.
The same man only a few rooms away.
“I will not be ruled by my stupid hormones. Hormones are what got me into this situation in the first place.” She carefully stepped into the water and sank down until her body below her neck was submerged. A moan slipped free despite her best efforts. “Oh God.”
Who needed sex when she had this bathtub?
Becka reached over and flipped the switch to get the jets going. She leaned back and closed her eyes. It would have to be enough. Things were complicated enough without falling back into bed with Aaron. It was one mistake she couldn’t afford to make twice.
If she could just convince herself of that, everything would be fine.
Aaron waited for the water to start running before he walked to the kitchen and pulled the book from his briefcase. He and Becka had fallen into something of a pattern over the last week. An agonizing pattern, but one all the same. She left sometime around five each morning to teach one of her classes, pausing barely long enough to grab a cup of coffee and mutter a greeting to him. They both arrived back at his place around six and then shared some kind of dinner. Then she took a shower followed by a bath. In that order.
