Page 5 of Latte Darling

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My teeth bite down on my lower lip for what feels like the hundredth time tonight.

This isn’t aboutme. Brian doesn’t even know me.

But no matter how much I tell myself that, it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

I finally put myself out there, after all this time, and the first guy I try to meet can’t even show up to tell me he doesn’t want to get to know me. Isn’t that just great?

Warm hands close around mine, encircling my glass.

His tanned and inked skin looks like such a contrast to my paleness, but there’s also a perfect symmetry in the comparison. A total stranger is touching me, and instead of flinching at the contact, I take the comfort offered – even as I keep my eyes lowered.

“Maddie.” His hands squeeze gently around mine. “Baby Doll, look at me.”

Slowly, I bring my gaze up to meet his.

His head gives the smallest shake, “Don’t you dare be sad over this.” One hand lets go of mine and I watch as he brings it up to my face. The pad of his thumb lightly rubbing against my lower lip. “Stop biting your lip like that. If you hurt yourself over this, I’ll have to go lay a world of hurt on Brian. And I don’t want to do that.”

Doing as told, I release my bite, “You don’t?”

“No.”

“Why not?” I whisper the question.

His thumb rubs once more over my now free lip, “Because Brian is my son.”

Chapter4

Axel

Her mouth popsopen at my confession and it takes every shred of self-control I have to not slide my thumb between her parted lips.

I’m too old for this girl.

Too jaded. Too weathered.

But my body doesn’t give two fucks about any of that, and my brain is desperately trying to figure out how I can steal her from my own kid without feeling like a total piece of shit.

Chapter5

Maddie

Son?

I can’t think with his nearness, with his hands still on me.

“Did you say son?” I repeat the word out loud just to make sure.

The man – whose name I still don’t know – lowers his hand from my face.

I feel myself leaning forward, missing his touch. But his hand doesn’t go far, only moving it until he’s loosely gripping my wrist. His other hand still cupped around mine on the glass.

“I did,” he answers.

“I don’t understand.”

I don’t. I really don’t.

He heaves out a breath, “He’s a good kid but…”


Tags: S.J. Tilly Romance