Taming Hollywood's Baddest Boy - Max Monroe Page 0,112
what feels like fucking forever, but eight years was a long fucking time for me to be MIA. No doubt, I definitely deserved the silent treatment. Probably deserved more than just that, to be honest.” A laugh leaves his lungs. “I think it’s time we put all our bullshit aside for my niece or nephew, don’t you?” He pauses and then nods as he talks again. “Yeah. I heard you were pregnant back in May. Figured you’d had the baby by now.” He smiles hugely then. “A girl…? What’s her name…? Holy shit, she’s already four months old? Goddamn. Congrats, sis, I’m so happy for you.”
Is it just me or is the baby thunder feeling really fucking loud right now?
“Wait…” He pauses, and his brow furrows. “Yeah, I heard it was some guy from New York.” Suddenly, he stops pacing and looks down at the counter, his eyes turning heated in a way I haven’t seen them since the day I stepped up on his Alaskan porch uninvited. “I must be hearing you wrong because I could’ve sworn you said Harrison Hughes, and there’s no fucking way that’s right. I know, out of all the fucks in the world, there’s no fucking way you’d have gone and had a baby with that asshole.”
Luca’s jaw goes tight. “What the fuck, Rocky?” He pulls the phone away from his face and scowls before tossing it onto the counter with a thud.
Jesus Christ. What is happening right now?
I know he doesn’t have any sort of respect for phones, but this isn’t the way I expected the call with his sister to end.
He stands there at the kitchen island with both of his palms resting on the counter and his eyes staring straight at the ground.
“So…” I say quietly, and he looks up to meet my eyes. “What’s going on?”
“My sister called,” he says. “She’s still a bit pissed at me, which is understandable,” he updates. “But now I’m fucking pissed at her. The guy you couldn’t remember? He’s my Charles. My fucking childhood nemesis, the worst fucking kid I’ve ever met in my life. And he’s my baby niece’s father.”
“Seriously?” I ask and realize the stick is still in my hands. Oh shit. Quickly, I hide it behind my back. “Sounds like a lot of information to process.”
Probably not a good time to let you know that’s not the only baby you need to worry about.
“Yeah.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “But I can’t deny that she sounded really fucking happy.”
“I’m glad you finally got in touch with her.”
“Me too. She said she’d call me again when I’d had time to calm down.” He smiles. “I guess she still knows me pretty well.”
I nod.
When his eyes spot the magazine on the counter, he laughs. “I see you got everything you needed at the grocery store.”
I giggle. “Yep.”
“Hollywood’s Baddest Boy,” he states and rolls his eyes. “This headline is ridiculous.”
“Personally, I like it,” I retort. “I mean, I’m the one who’s taming Hollywood’s Baddest Boy. It makes me feel like a total badass.”
Luca laughs and walks around the kitchen island to pull me into his arms.
But when I wrap only one of my arms around him, he glances behind my back. “What’s in your hand?”
Oh shit. I slip the stick into the back pocket of my jeans.
“Nothing.”
“I just saw you put something your pocket.” Luca grins down at me. “What are you hiding, you little liar?”
Oh, boy—or girl—here we go…
Luca
“Uh…see… It’s kind of a funny story…” She pauses and pulls out one of the stools near the kitchen island. “But maybe, just maybe, you should sit down first before I tell you.”
I narrow my eyes. “C’mon, princess. What is it?”
“Probably not optimal timing,” she mutters, and I start to step toward her.
“No, no, no,” she says, shaking her head and pointing one index finger toward the chair. “Sit down first, and I’ll tell you.”
“You’re either being super dramatic right now, or I should be concerned. I’m not sure which.”
“Luca,” she whines.
“Fine,” I say and sit my ass down on the stool. “I’m sitting.”
“Okay,” she says, and I watch as she takes a big, deep breath into her lungs and exhales it slowly. “So, I was feeling a little off…well, a lot off, and I…” She pauses again.
“Princess. C’mon. What’s going on?”
She doesn’t respond with words. Instead, she pulls something out of her back pocket and hands it to me. “Here.”