He sags in relief. “Oh, thank God, Seb said you would. D’you mind coming up to my flat for a second?”
“Um. Sure. Do you need—” I wave a hand at his bare chest. “Um. Something? I have some oversize t-shirts that might fit you…”
Why am I offering to cover him up? What’s wrong with me?
Jack looks down at himself, and his cheekbones colour. “Christ. Sorry. Forgot about that. I’ll grab a shirt upstairs.” He gives me a lopsided smile. “I know this looks like some kind of set-up, but I swear I’m not hitting on you. I really do need your help.”
Shame.“Sure,” I say immediately, nodding too hard. “Of course. Anything.”
“Thank you.” As if he’s scared I’ll change my mind if he waits too long, he grabs my hand and tugs me out of my flat, leading me down the hallway. I stare at his strong fingers closed around my wrist.
“One day,” he mutters under his breath. “We’ve had her for one day, and I think we’re already losing it.” He pushes open the door to the stairway, jogging up the stairs.
I trail behind him. “You’ve had who one day?” I ask, puffing slightly. “A baby?”
He glances at me out of the corner of his eye, then pulls me out of the stairway and into the corridor of floor five. “I think it would be easier to just show you,” he says grimly, leading me down the hallway. We pull up outside a door identical to mine, with5Aengraved into the wood. Jack yanks it open. Immediately, I hear a high-pitched baby cry.
“I brought her!” Jack calls. The crying gets even louder.
“Thank God,” someone mutters. “I was about to scratch my ears out.”
Jack ushers me forward, and I step inside, looking around.
The first thing I notice is how much nicer his suite is. I have the cheapest room option: a tiny one-bedroom flat with flaky wallpaper and barely any windows. I’ve never been inside the building’s luxury apartments before, and this place isbeautiful, all exposed brick and metal accents. One wall is entirely made of glass, looking out over the city. The room is full of bookshelves and armchairs, and there’s even a widescreen TV hanging off one wall, positioned opposite a long black leather sofa.
Two men are sitting on it: a golden-skinned guy with inky black hair, and a brunette in a suit. I recognise them instantly as Jack’s uber-hot roommates. Neither of them look up at me as I step forward, both staring stubbornly at something on the coffee table. I follow their gazes and finally see the source of all the noise.
There’s a baby sitting on the coffee table, tucked inside a grey plastic car seat. She’s small, probably five or six months, and dressed in a little pink onesie. And she’s shrieking at the top of her lungs.
Without even thinking, my feet cross the room towards her. Oh, she isgorgeous.Tan skin, thick black hair, and huge brown eyes with long lashes. Her cheeks are puffy with baby fat, and they’re all pink from screaming.
“Oh, hello, precious,” I whisper. “Can I touch her?”
“Please,” one of the men says.“Just make herstop.”
I reach into the car seat and pick her up. It’s been over a year since I held a baby. She’s so soft and small in my arms I could cry. “Aw, honey. You don’t feel so happy, huh?” I rub my cheek against hers. “What’s up, sweetheart?”
She looks up at me, anguished, and covers her face with her tiny hands.
“I’m not sure she’ll tell you,” the dark-haired man drawls. “She’s not been very chatty so far.”
I turn to look at him, trying not to blush as I take him in. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man ooze so much sex appeal. He’s lounging on the leather sofa, wearing jeans and a silk shirt that he hasn’t bothered to button up. His eyes and tousled hair are both shockingly black, and his fingers glint with stacked silver rings.
“Hello, neighbor,” he says softly, smiling. His voice is low and rich, like melting chocolate. “Glad to finally meet you. I’m Cyrus.” He flicks his head towards the suited man sitting next to him. “This is Sebastian.”
“Beth,” I squeak.
Cyrus’s smile gets wider. “Oh, I know who you are,” he murmurs, his eyes subtly dropping from my face to my hips.
Holy shit. Is he checking me out?
The baby wails again, and I clear my throat, looking back down at her. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” I whisper, stroking her arm. “What’s your name, huh?”
“Camilla,” Jack says, coming up behind me. Sadly, he’s now put on a t-shirt. The thin white cotton melts all over his hard chest, clinging to his biceps. “We’ve been calling her Cami.”
“Cami. That’s a very pretty name.” I kiss Cami’s cheek. “Very, very pretty. Just like you.”
She shakes her head, roaring furiously. I pat her butt, feeling her nappy. It’s a little too loose, but thankfully empty. “Your nappy seems fine. Are you hungry, honey?”