12 Inches (A Secret Baby Dark Romance)(52)

"Abby?" I ask, still fixated on her last sentence.

"Yeah, you remember her, don't you?" she asks sarcastically. "The woman you decided to write a book with, and then promptly screw over?"

All I can do is stare at her as she speaks.

"Oh, come on Aidan! I'm tired of the games. Don't play dumb. Cheryl told me everything."

When I still don't respond, CJ grows increasingly frustrated.

"I knew you were going to screw this up," she continues. "You always do—mixing work and pleasure. But I guess there was this little part … a little bit of hope in me that thought this time was going to be different, especially with the pregnancy. That maybe you actually gave a shit about Abby … that maybe you … dare I say it … even loved her. But I guess old habits die hard, right? I shouldn't have expected this time to be any different."

"Wait? Did you just fucking say pregnancy?" I ask. My head is swirling and everything in my peripheral vision is growing blurry. It's like my head is being placed in a fishbowl. My heart is kicking in my chest. I'm trying to just breath. To try and gather my thoughts. To try and slow my brain down a bit.

Anything to stay calm.

"She was planning on telling you, but you stood her up, asshole. She was pretty beat up over it too … and then seeing your Facebook post about your new book with Bad Boy Publishing, "Huge Cock" … well, that just put her really over the edge. And I don't blame her, with you practically rubbing it in her face and all. What do you expect?"

She removes the napkin from her lap and places it in a crumpled heap on top of the table. Then she pushes her chair back, and the scratch of the chair's legs against the tile—that high-pitched sound that no one likes—makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. She begins to leave.#p#分页标题#e#

“You know, you might have a 12 inch dick, Aidan, but as a person, you’re not even an inch tall, fucker,” she tells me.

“You gonna let me say something?” I say to CJ. “I can fucking explain, babe.”

"Look, this has been fun and all, but like I said, I'm done. It's time for me to move on. It's best for you to move on too. I'm sure you can find another PA who could care less about who you fuck and what you do with your personal life. But that's not me."

I watch as she begins to leave, and just as she turns her back I say, "Wait. I fucking love her too, CJ!"

She stops and slowly turns around, and for the first time holds my gaze.

"I have a plan," I continue.

CJ places her hands on her hips and rolls her eyes, as if this is some sort of prank. "Sure you do. You always seem to have a plan, but not this time. You can't fix this."

I press her further. "I need you to trust me, CJ. And I know that may be hard for you because I haven't always made the best choices in the past—"

"That's an understatement," she says, cutting me off.

"But I need you to trust me and be patient. Just wait. You'll see what I mean."

"And how long do you expect me to wait?" CJ asks. Disbelief is still etched across her face, but I sense that she's softening her a bit.

Not long," I say. "Two weeks. That's all I ask."

CJ is tapping her foot against the tiled floor, looking at me with an incredulous frown. I can tell she's really struggling with this decision.

"I promise that everything will be explained at the RAGA convention."

Her eyes soften and her foot stops tapping.

"Fine. Two weeks, Aidan," she says, finally deciding to trust me. "That's it, and your plan better work."

“I love this girl, CJ,” I tell her and she looks at me for a long moment. I don’t hide anything. I’m done fucking hiding. Let her see me for the real me. I’m fine being fucking vulnerable if it means saving Abby. “I’m not gonna fuck this one up.”

After a long moment, CJ blinks.

“You’re telling the truth,” she says to me.

I nod.

“Well, that girl is hurting, Aidan,” she tells me. “So for both your sakes, I hope you know what the hell you’re doing.”

“So do I, darlin’,” I say with a sigh looking towards the distance of the city. “So do I.”





23





Abby





“C’mon, cheer up. Seriously,” Cheryl says, draping one arm over my shoulders and pulling me close to her.

“I’m totally cheery, can’t you see?” I say with a frown, sighing loudly as we head toward our booth. This is the biggest romance convention in the United States and, since Big Dick was such a hit, we have to be here. And by we, I mean Cheryl and I; since Aidan signed with Bad Boy Publishing, that means he removed himself from the equation.